#lando norris fluff

[landoughnut]

You're Dating Him?! - LN4

masterlist - request

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!fem!reader

summary: lando's been soft launching, but when someone spots the youngest leclerc out with him in Italy, her brothers don't react as they'd hoped

w/c & a/n: smau | I need smau fic ideas, chat gpt is not helping 😭

lando

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen1, and 1,832,075 others

lando nice and needed vacation ☀️

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user1 IS THAT A G-GIRL ⁉️⁉️

carlossainz55 aye you bastard answer my messages 😑 ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc looks like little lando norris is all grown up 🥺

maxfewtrell oh he's all grown up all right 😏

lando maxfewtrell you keep your mouth SHUT

charles_leclerc maxfewtrell ????

user2 damn we got lando soft launching before gta 6

user3 she looks oddly familiar but I can't think of how

maxfewtrell 😶

user3 maxfewtrell TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

maxfewtrell user3 🤐

user3 maxfewtrell you BITCH

oscarpiastri looking tan mate 👍 ♥︎ by author

user4 do we think oscar knows who she is

maxverstappen1 why was I not informed about this

lando because you have connections 😄

maxverstappen1 lando so you're assuming I'd tell others ??

lando maxverstappen1 don't play the victim we all know you love to gossip 🙄

user4 lando says max v has connections to her 🤔 does that mean she's part of the f1 world ♥︎ by author

user5 YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING

user6 LANDO LIKING ?????

user7 maybe she's a sister of one of the drivers??

user8 no way that would ever happen lmao

lando

liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 2,310,871 others

lando they do say Italy is the country of love 🫶

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user9 soldiers we've lost him 🫡

carlossainz55 🫡😢 ♥︎ by author

user10 carlossainz55 LMAOAOAO its okay carlando lives on forever

oscarpiastri don't do anything I wouldn't do kids 👍

lando I'm literally older than you 🤓 and she's your age...

user11 NEW INFORMATION UNLOCKED ‼️ mystery girl is brunette, 23, knows f1

user12 that unfortunately doesn't really help much

user11 user12 yet...

danielricciardo since when did you take good pictures 🤨 ♥︎ by author

lando she taught me 🤭

user13 THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND 💔

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous girl ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 I recognize that back...

lando SHUT UPPPP

lando maxverstappen1 wait wdym you recognize her back 😾

charles_leclerc hey my sister went to Italy recently too lmao imagine if you ran into her

lando heh that would be pretty funny 😅

maxfewtrell lando can you be anymore obvious mate

yourusername I cant charles is so oblivious 😭

lando

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 2,310,871 others

lando 🌊🛥️ maxfewtrell

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maxverstappen1 interesting...

oscarpiastri stay hydrated folks 👍

lando yes dad 👍

charles_leclerc looking clean 🔥 ♥︎ by author

arthur_leclerc cute couple 🤝 ♥︎ by author

lando I hope you'll still think that when you realizewho she is

maxfewtrell 🤪

arthur_leclerc maxfewtrell 🤔

carlossainz55 you two better be keeping it PG 👀😏

lando more like MA

charles_leclerc lando be safe use protection ☝️

maxfewtrell charles_leclerc ☠️

charles_leclerc maxfewtrell ?????

alexandrasaintmleux tell her I said hi 🎀 ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc you know who she is??

alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc hehe....

user14 I HAVE A SUSPICION ON WHO IT IS BUT Y'ALL WILL CALL ME CRAZY

user15 SPILL

user14 user15 I THINK SHE'S yourusername

user14 hear me out: she's oscars age (who are both 23), she's brunette (like charles lorenzo and arthur), charles told us that his sister recently went to Italy on lando's post of pics from there, she liked this post, AND alexandra (charles' gf) commented on this and the last post

user16 user14 WAITTTTTT I THINK YOU'RE RIGHT

yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, alexandrasaintmleux, and 2,310,871 others

yourusername cat's out of the bag I guess 🤗 this is my cutesy boyfriend lando 💗

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user17 WHATATATATAAT YOU'RE WHO LANDO HAS BEEN SOFT LAUNCHING ⁉️

maxverstappen1 I KNEW IT ♥︎ by author

user7 I CALLED IT BRO I SAID A DRIVERS SISTER AND YALL DOUBTED

user8 IM SORRY 😣

oscarpiastri finally!! congrats 👍 ♥︎ by author

maxfewtrell NOOOO I WAS HAVING FUN TROLLING

yourusername yeah we know 😄

user18 how did lando pull a leclerc

lando excuse me???

user19 lando she's literally an angel and then you're.... lando

yourusername user19 that's exactly why I love him :)

lando yourusername I love you too baby 🥺 ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc what the FUCK.

charles_leclerc I'LL KILL HIM

charles_leclerc WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU HUGGING THAT THING

lando "THAT THING" ⁉️⁉️

charles_leclerc lando fuck off je ne te parlais pas

lando charles_leclerc I don't understand french 😢

yourusername lando maybe it's for the better my love 🥰

charles_leclerc yourusername "MY LOVE"???? UNBLOCK ME AND ANSWER MY CALLS

alexandrasaintmleux yourusername don't unblock him he's got steam coming out of his ears... and arthur also showed up

maxfewtrell 😎🍿 ♥︎ by author

lando glad you're enjoying this while I'm fearing for my life

charles_leclerc WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS TOUCHING MY BABY SISTER????

arthur_leclerc WHY IS HIS MOUTH ON YOURS IN THAT TWEET

charles_leclerc POURQUOI TU SORS AVEC LUI?? JE VAIS LE POUSSER DANS LES BARRIÈRES SUR LA VOIE, ATTENDS JUSTE

charles_leclerc lando YOU SAID YOU WERE KEEPING IT MA ON THIS VACATION

arthur_leclerc don't worry bro I'm sharpening my axe 🥰

lando arthur_leclerc AXE?!?!!? WHY DO YOU HAVE AN AXE??

maxverstappen1 lando it was nice competing with you

lando ☹️

user20 damn lando I wasn't familiar with your game 😮‍💨

lando everyone being so surprised that she's dating me is quite insulting 😪

leclerc_pascale beautiful ❤️ ♥︎ by author

yourusername I LOVE YOU MAMAN

lando I'm too pretty to die 💔

arthur_leclerc who lied to you??

lando arthur_leclerc your sister I guess ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl lando you're only digging your grave deeper

lorenzotl I'm so happy for you ma petite soeur ❤️ ♥︎ by author

yourusername thank you enzo I love you ❤️

arthur_leclerc lorenzotl YOU'RE OKAY WITH THIS ?????

charles_leclerc does he make you happy.

yourusername yes very happy 🥹

charles_leclerc yourusername is he respectful.

yourusername charles_leclerc he couldn't be more of a gentleman

charles_leclerc yourusername I still don't like this 😡 but... I'll give him a chance

lando charles_leclerc THANK YOU PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I SWEAR I'LL BE THE BEST BROTHER IN LAW

arthur_leclerc lando BROTHER IN LAW?????

[no-144444]

ruined for you- l.norris

summary: lando gets a wake-up call about his feelings for you

pairing: fakeboyfriend! lando norris x fem! fakegirlfriend! actress! reader

warning: SMUTTT, ngl yall, this is filthy. so, enjoy! 18+ please :)

a/n: kinda part 2 to cherry kisses. i'm thinking of making this an au series instead of my regular chapter-focused series?? lmk what yall think!!!

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He couldn’t believe it was happening. The feeling of your skin on his, your hands on him, your lips on his. It was maddening. 

“You alright?” you asked, breathless. “Do you want to go further or-?” you trailed off. 

“Please,” he whispered against your lips. He was desperate and he didn’t even care. “I want you.”

He saw the way your lip twitched and he felt accomplished. He was doing something to make you like this, he was doing something good. 

“Eager, are we?” you teased as you pushed his head back, pulling on his hair. “So good for me, Lan.”

Ok, he could’ve sworn he whimpered that time. You didn’t seem to care, too busy pulling off your top to care. He was glad just to sit back and watch the show. Those pierced nipples he fantasised about so often, on full display, just for him. Fuck he was hard, straining against his jeans as he struggled to his keep his hands to himself, and off himself. He’d thought about this a million times, his favourite fantasy coming true. You. 

“Like what you see?” you smirked, moving off his lap to pull off your trousers. He was genuinely rendered speechless. “Cat got your tongue?” you teased, playing with his hair again, sitting on his lap, bare pussy to hsi clothed crotch. “I like it better when you don’t speak anyway,” you smirked and pressed your lips to his again, a searing, all-consuming kiss. 

His brain short-circuited. His hands were hanging aimlessly beside him, until you placed them on your body, then he shot into motion, his brain actually working. He was groping all over your body, whimpering in your mouth, and grinding up to your pussy. “Need to be inside you, please,” he begged, his hands digging into your waist, trying desperately to stop himself. He could feel your tits against his chest, your hands in his hair, your bare pussy over his jeans. “I-I’m going to cum,” he admitted, grinding himself up to your soaking pussy. He couldn’t help himself, and even if he could, he didn’t want to. It felt too good.

“You’re going to cum?” you questioned, whispering in his ear. “In your pants?” 

He nodded against your neck, his moans and whimpers getting more and more desperate as he got closer and closer to his peak. You licked that spot just under his ear and he knew he was a goner. His moan was high-pitched and whiny, but you pulled him into another all-consuming kiss and smiled against his lips. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager. And it felt good.

You laughed against his lips and pulled back, making him groan at the loss of contact. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager. It was hot. “You’re so fucking eager,” you smirked. “And yet I’m the only one who’s naked.” 

He leaned back, pulling off his shirt. You barely had enough time to run a hand down his toned abs before he was hoisting you further up his body as he lay back and pulled off his trousers as he stared up at you from between your thighs. Shit, he was between your thighs. His cock pulsed against his boxers as he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of one of your thighs, and we could’ve sworn he heard you gasp. He just wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to be good for you. 

“What do you like?” he asked, basically breathless.

“In what way?” you smirked. “Are you eating me out or fucking me?” 

God. He gulped. “Eating you out.” 

“Good,” you nodded. “Y’going to let me ride your face?” 

He nodded before he knew what he was doing. You moved up, and suddenly he was met with your pussy. He pushed his tongue between your pussy lips experimentally, and found your clit pretty quick. He racked his brain for any idea of what to do. He’d never done this before, and he wanted to impress you. From what he’d seen, he just fingered you and sucked on your clit, right? He hoped you would give him some idea of what you like as he started sucking on your clit. 

“Just…” you breathed out above him. “Fuck me with your tongue, yeah?” You were breathless, he was doing something right. 

He smirked against your pussy, his hands finding your waist to start you grinding against his face, making you moan out above him. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit and you groaned his name, your hand finding his hair as you grinded harder. 

“Faster Lan, please,” you begged. “Faster.” 

He didn’t need to be told a third time when he had you practically sobbing on his tongue. He wasn’t fucking this up, and he could feel you pulsing against his lips. You were close. He was going to make you cum. 

“Cum for me baby,” he slurring against your cunt. “Need it baby.”

And you did. You came with a violent shake and a loud moan as he held your limp body against his face, tongue-fucking you through your orgasm. He smirked against your cunt-

“Wake the fuck up Norris, breakfast ends in 30 minutes!” 

The loud banging on his door and your angry voice was not what he thought would come next, but alas, the greatness of his dream was interrupted by the main character in it. You. 

He got out of bed, trying to shake off the dream, but he could feel the uncomfortable truth of his cummed-in boxers, and the way his cock was already hard again. “Go without me, just save me a croissant please?” he called back. 

“Suit yourself!” you shouted back, and he could hear your footsteps retreating back down the hall. He stepped into the shower, hoping to wash the dream off of him. The image of you naked in front of him was what got him through his second orgasm of the morning, and he got dressed and walked downstairs. Maybe he shouldn’t watch your sex scenes before bed? He noted it down for the future, and ran downstairs to meet you before another day of pretending to be your dutiful boyfriend. 

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as you handed him his croissant.

“Great, beds comfy,” you turned to him, smiling. “You?”

He smirked as he looked at your white tank, your nipple piercings poking through. “Wonderful. Really good dreams, actually.”

You stared at him, and he could almost see a hint of curiosity, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, and you moved on. “Alright then, we have like 5 minutes until the car is here, enjoy your croissant, I’m getting a coffee.” 

Fuck, he was ruined for you. 

And he didn’t even care.

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[moonlightwritingf1]

Mine to Touch | LN4

🌸 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando’s obsessed with missionary—because he can rub her clit, watch her fall apart, and fuck her deep. And sometimes? He makes it soft, slow and absolutely passionate.

🌸 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🌸 word count ━━━━━━━ 4.2k

🌸 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, multiple orgasms, teasing?,

Based on this request.

The low hum of the city outside her apartment window was almost comforting, but Y/N couldn’t shake the tightness in her chest. Lando had texted her an hour ago, saying he was on his way over.

“Be there soon, princess.”

Her heart fluttered at the nickname, just like it always did. It wasn’t the first time he’d called her that—he’d said it a handful of times before, usually soft and playful, always without hesitation—but somehow, each time still made her stomach flip. She never got tired of it. Princess. It felt too good, too tender, especially coming from him.

Her eyes drifted to the bouquet of roses sitting quietly on her kitchen counter, the petals still fresh and vibrant despite the week that had passed since he’d sent them. She had cried when they arrived—hot, uncontrollable tears streaming down her face the moment she read the note tucked inside.

It had been a terrible week. One of those weeks where everything felt heavy and dull and wrong. And then, out of nowhere, the flowers had shown up. From him.

No one had ever given her flowers before. Not once. Not even during birthdays, not even from past boyfriends. But Lando had. Just because he knew she’d had a shit week and wanted to make her feel better.

She didn’t even know how he found out she’d been struggling.

But somehow, he knew. And he sent roses. And he called her princess.

And now he was on his way.

She adjusted the hem of her oversized sweater, the one she’d stolen from him months ago. It still smelled like him—his cologne, his warmth. It was a dangerous reminder of how much she’d grown to crave him, even if she hated admitting it to herself. The way her fingers curled tighter around the fabric made her feel stupid, like she was trying to hold on to something she couldn’t name. Something fragile. Something that scared her just as much as it comforted her.

Because she wanted him. In ways that ran far deeper than she’d ever planned.

The knock at the door startled her, and she took a deep breath before opening it. There he was, leaning against the doorframe, his hair slightly messy, that teasing grin on his face. “Hey, baby,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Why did he have to look like that? She stepped aside to let him in, her cheeks already heating up. “Hey,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.

He didn’t waste time. As soon as the door clicked shut, he pulled her into his arms, his hands sliding around her waist. She could feel the firmness of his body against hers, the way his presence seemed to fill the room. “Missed you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

She shivered, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt. “I missed you too,” she admitted, though the words felt heavy on her tongue. Missed him. She always missed him when he wasn’t around, even when she told herself she shouldn’t.

Lando’s fingers traced a path up her spine, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft but probing. “Everything okay?”

Quiet. She had been quiet. She’d been avoiding him more than usual—dodging his calls, making vague excuses to skip out on group hangouts. It wasn’t just him. It was everything. The weight of it all. The exhaustion. The overwhelming pressure she couldn’t explain without falling apart.

“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.

He didn’t look convinced. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. “You’re not fine, princess,” he said, his tone soft but unshakable. “Talk to me.”

She hesitated, her eyes searching his. There was so much she wanted to say—how work had been suffocating, how she’d been running on empty, how she didn’t even recognize herself some days. But the words caught in her throat, too heavy to voice, too fragile to release.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered instead, her voice cracking just enough to betray her.

He didn’t press. He just looked at her like she was something precious. And when she leaned into his touch, her lips parting as he leaned down to kiss her, it felt like breathing for the first time in days.

It was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was testing her. But then she kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his neck, pulling him closer. The tension between them shifted, the air crackling with something unspoken.

Lando’s grip on her tightened, his hands sliding down to her hips. He broke the kiss, his breath warm against her skin. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice rough with need.

She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t trust herself to speak, didn’t trust herself to stop him even if she wanted to. And right now, she didn’t want to.

He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom. His lips found hers again, harder this time, more demanding. She felt the heat building between them, the way his body pressed against hers as he laid her down on the bed.

His hands were everywhere, touching her, exploring her, making her feel things she couldn’t ignore. She arched into his touch, her breath hitching as he pulled off her sweater, leaving her in just her bra and leggings.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his eyes filled with desire as he looked down at her.

She blushed, her hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and throaty as he helped her pull his shirt off. His chest was bare, his skin warm under her fingertips. She traced the lines of his muscles, her heart racing as he leaned down to kiss her again.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down slowly with a teasing drag. She lifted her hips to help him, her legs trembling as the fabric slipped down her thighs and off her ankles. The cool air kissed her skin, sending a shiver through her body. Lando’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze trailing up her legs, her hips, her stomach, like he was memorizing every inch of her.

Next, his hands moved to the clasp of her bra, his fingers deft and steady despite the hunger in his eyes. She held her breath as he unhooked it, the fabric falling away to reveal her breasts. His low groan of appreciation made her blush, but she didn’t look away. She could see the intensity in his gaze, the way he seemed to worship her with his eyes alone.

Finally, his fingers hooked into the edge of her underwear, pulling them down with the same deliberate slowness. She lifted her hips again, her heart pounding as he revealed her completely. There was no hiding now, no barriers between them.

Even after all this time—after all the nights tangled in his sheets, after countless times they’d undressed each other with trembling hands and hungry mouths—she still felt shy when she was naked in front of him. Something about the way he looked at her, like he saw everything, always made her chest tighten and her cheeks burn.

But she also felt safe. In a way she couldn’t quite explain. Like he didn’t just want her—he cherished her.

Lando’s hands skimmed her thighs, her hips, as if he was savoring the moment. His gaze never left hers.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

She bit her lip, her cheeks burning as he leaned down to kiss her again. His hands kept moving, his touch sending shivers through her body. When he finally stripped off his own clothes, she couldn’t help but stare. He was beautiful, every inch of him, and she felt a surge of desire that she couldn’t ignore.

He settled between her legs, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress in the most intoxicating way. She could feel him—hard and ready—against her inner thigh, and a gasp escaped her lips as his hips shifted, brushing against her sensitive core. His hands gripped her hips firmly, anchoring her in place as he leaned down to kiss her neck, his lips warm and insistent.

His teeth grazed her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her that made her arch into him. She could feel his breath, hot and uneven, against her ear as he whispered, “You feel so good, princess.” His voice was rough, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

One of his hands slid up her side, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist before cupping her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak, and she couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped her. “Lando,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

He responded with a low groan, the length of his hard cock pressing and grinding against her slick folds, teasing her clit with slow, deliberate movements. She gasped, her hips instinctively arching into his, craving more of the delicious friction. His cock felt so good against her, the heat of it sending waves of pleasure through her body. His lips trailed lower, down her collarbone, his teeth nipping gently at her skin as he moved. Every touch, every kiss, felt like he was worshipping her, like he couldn’t get enough.

Lando’s hips shifted slightly, the tip of his cock brushing against her clit in a way that made her whimper. “You like that, baby?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. She could only nod, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. He was teasing her, driving her crazy with the slow, deliberate pace of his movements, his cock sliding against her sensitive clit, making her toes curl and her body tremble with need.

“You’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice rough and filled with satisfaction. His hand slid down to where their bodies were pressed together, his fingers brushing against her slick folds, making her moan. He was torturing her, in the best way possible, his cock still rubbing against her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance, driving her closer to the edge with every touch.

“I love the way you react to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His lips found hers again, his kiss deep and consuming, his tongue teasing hers as his hands explored her body. She could feel the urgency in his touch, the way he seemed to be holding back, but only just.

She was losing herself in him, in the way he made her feel, and she didn’t want it to stop. Every touch, every kiss, was pulling her deeper, making her crave more. He was all she could think about, all she could feel. And she knew, in that moment, she was completely his.

“Lando,” she breathed, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.

He reached down, his fingers finding her clit, circling it with a gentle yet firm pressure as he positioned himself at her entrance. She could feel the heat of him, the thick, hard length of his cock pressing against her slick folds, teasing her, making her body tremble with anticipation. Her breath hitched, her nails digging into his shoulders as she waited, her stomach tightening with a mix of nerves and desire.

Then, slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed inside her.

The moment his tip breached her entrance, she gasped, a sharp, breathy sound that filled the room. Her pussy clenched around him, hot and tight, as he stretched her, filling her in the most exquisite way. The sensation was overwhelming—his cock was thick, hard, and insistent, sliding deeper with every inch, igniting a fire in her core that she couldn’t ignore. She felt full, achingly so, as he sank deeper, her body yielding to his, welcoming him with a shiver of pleasure that ran through her entire being.

Lando’s breath caught, a low groan escaping his lips as her warmth enveloped him. She was so tight, so wet, the heat of her pussy gripping him like a vice, making his head spin. He could feel every ridge, every pulse of her walls around him, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to lose himself in her entirely. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost pained with desperation. “You feel so fucking good.”

She could see the strain in his face, the way he was holding back, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep himself steady. His eyes were locked on hers, filled with a hunger that made her stomach clench. He moved slowly, his hips grinding against hers, the thick length of his cock dragging against her sensitive walls in a way that made her moan, her hands gripping him tighter.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed, his voice trembling as he pushed deeper, his cock stretching her in the most delicious way. “So wet for me, princess. Fuck, I can feel how much you want me.”

She could barely form words, her body too consumed by the sensation of him inside her. Every inch he pushed in sent waves of pleasure through her, her pussy clenching around him as if trying to pull him deeper. She could feel the weight of him, the way his hips pressed against hers, his cock filling her completely, touching her in places that made her see stars.

He paused when he was fully sheathed inside her, his breath hot and uneven against her skin. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice raw with possession, his eyes never leaving hers. “All mine.”

Then he started to move—slowly, deliberately, his hips rolling against hers, his cock sliding in and out of her with a torturous rhythm. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her clit pulsing with need as he rubbed it with his fingers in perfect sync with his strokes.

She was everywhere—the way her arms clung to him, her nails digging into his skin, her thighs trembling beneath him. Lando’s forehead rested against hers, his breath hot and uneven as he rocked into her, slow and deep, each thrust dragging a gasp from her lips. His hand was between them, fingers rubbing gentle circles on her clit, the pressure perfect and maddening. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “You feel that? You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

She gasped his name, the sound barely audible over the pounding of her heart. He kissed her then—deep, desperate, reverent—his tongue tangling with hers as if he could consume every part of her. “Look at me, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Don’t look away. I need to see you fall apart.”

Her legs quivered as he pinned her wrists above her head, his body flush with hers, his slow, deliberate strokes dragging her closer to the edge. “Say it,” he growled, his lips grazing her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. “Say you’re mine.”

She could barely think, let alone speak, her body shaking as his fingers worked her clit with relentless precision. “You’re mine, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with possession. “My princess. My everything.”

Her thighs spread wider, her hips lifting to meet his every thrust as he took her deeper, his forehead pressed to hers. “This,” he groaned, the rhythm of his hips steady and unrelenting. “This is how I always want to have you. Just like this, princess. Every damn night.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as the tension coiled tighter, threatening to snap. “Why?” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “Why... like this?”

His answer was immediate, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “Because I can see your face when you come. Because I can feel you better. And because—” His fingers worked her clit harder, the pressure making her back arch. “—this is the only position where I can love you and ruin you at the same time.”

She was already shaking, her body hovering on the edge, when he whispered it again, his voice rough with desire. “I love fucking you like this because I can touch you like this.” His fingers rubbed her clit harder, his eyes locked on hers, watching her come undone. “And because no one else gets to see you like this. No one.”

His thrusts grew messier, his rhythm faltering as his fingers worked her clit with relentless pressure. “You don’t get it,” he panted, his breath hot against her skin. “I’m obsessed with this. With you. With making you come like this.”

She tried to hide her face, her cheeks burning as she felt herself nearing the edge, but he wouldn’t let her. “Eyes on me, baby,” he growled, his fingers rubbing her clit harder, his thrusts deep and rough. “You’re so fucking pretty when you come. Don’t look away.”

Her legs began to tremble, her whole body shaking uncontrollably as he kept thrusting, kept rubbing her clit just right. “You always do this,” he murmured, his voice ragged, his eyes locked on hers. “Always shake when you’re about to come. Drives me fucking crazy.”

He pushed deeper, his fingers working her clit fast and messy, until she cried out, her body convulsing as she came undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you fall apart. I need it.”

And fall apart she did, completely and utterly his. Her body seized, a wave of pleasure crashing over her so intensely that her vision blurred. Her pussy clenched around him, pulsing, tightening, as if trying to pull him even deeper inside her. Lando groaned, his cock still buried to the hilt, his hips stuttering as he felt her walls gripping him like a vice. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice raw, trembling. “You’re so tight. I can feel you squeezing me—every fucking inch.”

She gasped, her back arching off the bed, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as the sensation consumed her. Her clit throbbed under his relentless touch, her pussy quivering around his cock as he kept thrusting, slow but deep, dragging out every last shiver of her orgasm. “Lando,” she whimpered, her voice breaking, her body trembling uncontrollably. “I can’t—it’s too much—I—”

But he didn’t stop. He kept moving, his cock sliding in and out of her slick, swollen folds, her pussy still fluttering around him as he pushed her higher, dragged her further. “Look at me, princess,” he commanded, his voice rough, desperate. She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze, and what she saw there—pure, unrelenting desire—sent another wave of heat crashing through her. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips grinding against hers, his cock filling her so completely she thought she might break. “You feel so fucking good when you come. I can’t get enough of it.”

And then, just as her orgasm began to ease, his rhythm faltered. His breath hitched, his jaw clenching as he drove into her one last time, deep and hard, her name a ragged whisper on his lips. He came with a low, guttural groan, his cock throbbing inside her as he spilled himself, hot and thick, filling her in a way that made her shudder. Her pussy milked him, her walls still clenching around his length as he emptied himself, his body trembling against hers.

For a moment, they were both still, the only sounds their ragged breathing, the heat of their bodies pressed together. Lando’s forehead rested against hers, his breath hot and uneven as he whispered, “You’re mine, princess. Forever.” 

And in that moment, she believed him. The words hung in the air between them, raw and heavy, as his forehead rested against hers, their breaths uneven and tangled. She felt the weight of his confession in the way he held her—like letting go wasn’t an option. He was still inside her, warm and throbbing faintly, grounding her in a way that made her feel both exposed and safe. She wanted to believe him—needed to—because this… this was everything.

Lando shifted slightly, his hand sliding down her side in a slow, deliberate caress. His fingers traced the curve of her hip, then moved between her thighs, finding her clit with practiced ease. He rubbed in slow, steady circles, his touch soft but certain, and a soft gasp escaped her lips.

“This,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “this is why I love missionary. Because I can feel all of you.”

Her cheeks burned, eyes fluttering shut as he kept working her clit with maddening precision. He knew every inch of her, exactly how to touch her, how to break her down.

“I can see your face,” he whispered against her skin. ���Every little reaction, every breath, every moan. All mine.”

Her hips lifted instinctively, seeking more, and he chuckled—low and deep.

“You’re so fucking responsive,” he said, fingers pressing harder. “Every time I touch you, you act like it’s the first time. Drives me insane, baby.”

She could still feel him inside her, thick and pulsing, his hips slowly grinding against hers.

“And I can rub you just like this,” he murmured, circling her clit with expert rhythm. “I can make you come while I’m still inside. Feel you tighten around me like you’re pulling me deeper.”

She moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kept going, relentless.

“I love it,” he breathed against her ear. “The way you feel wrapped around me. The way you hold me like you never want to let go.”

Her clit throbbed under his touch, her body clenching around him in anticipation.

“And this,” he said, his voice a rasp, “your clit… so sensitive. I love knowing I’m the one who gets to touch it like this. The one who gets to make you fall apart.”

She was already there, tension winding tight, her body poised on the edge. And he knew. He always did.

“You’re close, aren’t you, princess?” he murmured, fingers quickening, pressure unyielding. “I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes.”

She nodded, breath hitching, legs trembling.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Let go for me. Let me feel it. Let me see you.”

And she did. Her body convulsed, pussy clamping down around him as she came hard, waves of pleasure crashing through her. He didn’t stop—kept rubbing, kept thrusting slow and deep, drawing out every last ripple of release.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, breath ragged. “You feel so fucking good when you come.”

When she finally stilled, her body limp and trembling, he leaned down to kiss her, his lips soft and tender. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his fingers still tracing the curve of her hip. She sighed into the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the warmth of his lips against hers. But then his hand moved lower again, his fingers brushing against her clit, and she gasped, her body jerking at the sudden sensitivity.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice shaky, her hands pressing against his chest. “Stop. It’s—it’s too much. I’m too sensitive.”

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, his fingers dancing lightly over her clit, just enough to make her squirm. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear. “You’re so fucking sensitive right now. It’s adorable.”

“Lando,” she whined, her hands gripping his shoulders as she tried to push him away, but he didn’t stop immediately. Instead, he lingered, his touch still light but insistent, his lips brushing against her neck as he whispered, “Just one more touch, princess. You know you like it.”

She shook her head, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her clit again, the sensation almost too much to bear. “Please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Stop. I can’t—”

He finally relented, his hand moving away from her clit, but he didn’t pull out of her. Instead, he stayed right where he was, his cock still buried deep inside her, his warmth filling her in the most intimate way. He kissed her again, his lips soft and tender, his hands moving to cup her face as he whispered, “Okay, baby. I’ll stop. But I’m not done loving you yet.”

His lips trailed over her face, kissing her cheeks, her jawline, her forehead, every touch so gentle it made her heart ache. He was everywhere, his breath warm against her skin, his lips worshipping her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I could spend forever just like this, just loving you.”

She felt her cheeks burn, her heart swelling at his words. He was so tender, so loving, and it made her feel things she couldn’t put into words. Her hands cupped his face, her fingers brushing over his stubble as she whispered, “I love you, Lando.”

His eyes locked with hers, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned down to kiss her again. “I love you too, princess,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “So fucking much.”

[isaadore]

LINES WE CROSS LANDO NORRIS

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎pairing lando norris x leclerc!reader

SUMMARY loving lando was never supposed to be complicated. you weren’t hiding from the world: you were hiding from charles. because if he found out, it wouldn’t just be a fight. it would be a war. word count 0.8k

warnings use of y/n, angst, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, some arguing, charles being overprotective, happy ending

note requested! it's been awhile since i've written for lando so thank u anon for requesting hehe 😇 and i know the first photo is of george and carmen.. i didn't notice at first so crazy concidence

LN4 MASTERLIST EVENT MASTERLIST

MONACO AT NIGHT was always alive. The city breathed in neon lights and the hum of expensive cars, but right now, all you could hear was your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"You should go," you whispered, but Lando didn’t move.

He was standing too close, the heat of his body seeping into yours as you leaned against the cold stone wall of an alleyway hidden from the street. His McLaren hoodie was pulled over his head, his face shadowed, but you knew that look in his eyes: stubborn, reckless.

"Do you want me to go?" His voice was quiet, but it carried weight.

Your silence was the answer.

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. "Y/N—"

"Lando, please."

You didn’t want this to end. But it had to.

Because the moment Charles found out, there would be no coming back from it.

Lorenzo figured it out first. Not because you told him but because he noticed things.

“You never liked Lando before,” he said one evening, watching you too closely. “Now, suddenly, you don’t roll your eyes when he talks.”

Arthur caught on a few weeks later when he walked into your apartment and found Lando’s hoodie on the couch.

“I don’t care,” Arthur had muttered, tossing it back to you. “But if Charles finds out? You’re dead.”

And that was the problem.

Charles had always been overprotective. He thought he knew what was best for you, and in his eyes, Lando Norris was far from it.

You knew why.

Lando was unpredictable, too playful, too much of a risk. And Charles? Charles was always afraid of things he couldn't control.

It was a stupid mistake. One moment of carelessness.

You were in the paddock after a race, adrenaline still buzzing through your veins. Lando had finished P2, and when he pulled you into a tight hug behind the motorhomes, you hadn’t thought twice about it.

Until you heard your name.

"Y/N."

You froze.

Lando immediately let go, stepping back as Charles stared at you both, his face unreadable, but his eyes? His eyes burned.

“Charles—”

"How long?" His voice was eerily calm.

You hesitated.

Lando, on the other hand, didn’t. "Eight months."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Idiot.

Charles let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "Eight months? And neither of you thought to tell me?"

"Because we knew how you’d react," you shot back, stepping forward. "Look at you now, Charles."

He turned his glare to Lando. "And you? What, you thought this was funny? Sneaking around like some joke?"

Lando didn’t back down. "I love her."

The words landed heavy between the three of you.

Charles flinched, just barely, but you caught it.

"You love her?" His voice was sharp, disbelieving.

Lando exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yes, Charles. I love her. And she loves me."

"Don't—" Charles shook his head, voice shaking. "Don't pretend this isn't just another game to you, Lando."

Lando's jaw clenched. "It’s not a game."

You swallowed hard. "Charles, please, just—"

But he was already turning away.

"Charles!"

He didn’t stop.

And just like that, the secret was out, and everything was so much worse.

You found Charles later that night, standing on the balcony of his apartment, staring at the Monaco skyline.

"You hate me now?" you asked softly.

He didn’t look at you. "I could never hate you."

Your chest tightened. "Then why won’t you talk to me?"

Charles exhaled, hands gripping the railing. "Because I'm scared."

That caught you off guard.

"Scared of what?"

He finally turned, and the exhaustion in his expression nearly broke you.

"Of you getting hurt," he admitted. "Of you trusting him too much. Of me losing you."

Your throat felt tight. "You’re not losing me, Charles."

"But I am," he whispered. "You're growing up, and I don’t know how to stop it."

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. He stiffened at first, then slowly melted into the hug.

"I'm happy," you murmured. "Doesn't that count for something?"

He sighed against your shoulder. "It does."

Silence.

Then, begrudgingly:

"If he hurts you, I will end him."

A small laugh bubbled out of you. "I’d expect nothing less."

It took time. A lot of time.

Charles still wasn’t thrilled about Lando, but at least he wasn’t threatening to kill him anymore.

And Lando? He was patient. He knew Charles would never fully approve, but as long as he had you, that was enough.

"You think he'll ever like me?" Lando asked one evening, as you lay curled up on his couch.

You smiled. "Maybe when we’re old and gray."

Lando groaned. "That long?"

"Be grateful he didn’t murder you."

Lando smirked. "Yet."

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Give it time."

Lando grinned, pulling you closer. “As long as I get to spend all that time with you, I don’t mind waiting.”

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎LN4 MASTERLIST ✷ EVENT MASTERLIST

© 2025 ISAADORE

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (2/2) | pranking the parents

୨ৎ : featuring : lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by 🫐) : when you prank your boyfriend’s parents or sibling, he plays along a little too well...will they take your side?

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 1350

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : writing lando's literally took me out im cackling cus its too funny 😂

ʚ・lando norris

you were sitting at the kitchen island, chatting with cisca while lando hovered nearby, scrolling on his phone.

“lando,” you called sweetly, “can you grab my drink from the counter?”

without looking up, he shrugged lazily.

“why don’t you get it yourself?”

silence.

deadly silence.

cisca, mid-sentence, stopped cold.

slowly, she turned her head toward lando, one eyebrow arching in immediate disapproval.

“i know you did not just say that to y/n.”

lando froze. his fingers twitched around his phone, his body suddenly hyper-aware of the way his mother’s gaze was boring into his soul.

he tried to play it cool, but cisca was already leaning forward, resting her elbows on the counter, her expression unimpressed and ready for war.

“you think because you drive fast cars, you can have a bad attitude?” she asked, voice dangerously calm.

lando gulped.

cisca wasn’t done.

“i don’t care if you’re a big f1 star,” she continued, voice steadily rising. “i raised you better than to be rude to your partner. you think i’d ever let your dad speak to me like that? hah!”

you had to bite your lip to hold back laughter.

cisca kept going, hands now firmly on her hips, leaning in like she was about to hand out a full-blown life lesson.

“i don’t care if you’re tired, i don’t care if you’ve won a race, and i definitely don’t care if you think you’re funny. you do not talk to y/n like that. get. your. ass. up. and. get. the. drink.”

lando, completely defeated, shot up so fast his chair nearly toppled over.

“yes, mum. right away, mum.”

you finally lost it, bursting into laughter as lando sprinted to the counter like his life depended on it.

cisca simply shook her head, sipping her tea. “honestly, y/n, if you ever get tired of him, just let me know. we’ll replace him.”

lando returned, setting your drink down in front of you with the most exaggerated care.

you smirked. “thanks, babe.”

lando shot you a pointed glare, mouthing, “i hate you for making me agree to doing this.”

cisca smacked the back of his head.

“be grateful.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

the three of you were seated at the dining table, nicole chatting animatedly about something while oscar focused on his plate.

you decided it was the perfect time to strike.

“oscar, can you pass me the salt?” you asked casually.

without even looking up, he muttered—

“get it yourself.”

silence.

nicole immediately froze mid-bite, fork hovering in the air.

you could practically feel the temperature drop as she slowly turned her head toward her son.

“excuse me? oscar jack piastri, you better try that again.”

oscar, still trying to play it cool, swallowed his food like he didn’t have a death sentence hanging over him.

“it’s not that seri—”

nicole’s fork clanked against her plate.

you almost lost it right there, watching oscar’s usually calm, unbothered demeanor slowly crumble under his mother’s unimpressed glare.

before she could unleash a full mum-lecture, you burst out laughing.

“it’s a prank!” you admitted, giggling as oscar let out a breath of relief.

nicole sighed dramatically, shaking her head.

“you two are insufferable.”

you wiped a tear from your eye, still laughing. “but did you see his face?”

oscar rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. “yeah, yeah. ha ha. so funny.”

nicole, however, wasn’t done.

she turned to you, completely serious. “y/n, let me know if he ever does that for real—i’ll handle him.”

oscar choked on his drink. “mum—”

nicole raised an eyebrow. “you think i’m joking?”

you smirked, reaching for oscar’s hand. “i feel so protected.”

oscar groaned, covering his face.

he was never going to live this down.

ʚ・kimi antonelli

spending time with kimi’s family was always a wholesome experience—his mom, elisabetta, was warm and welcoming, and his little sister, maggie, was full of sass and always ready to call kimi out on his nonsense.

which is exactly why this prank was going to be golden.

the three of you were lounging in the living room, casually chatting while kimi scrolled through his phone, half-listening to the conversation.

you decided it was time.

“kimi, can you grab me some water?” you asked sweetly.

without looking up, he shrugged lazily.

“why don’t you do it yourself?”

instant regret.

maggie’s sharp gasp was immediate, and before kimi could react, she smacked his arm.

“kimi! that’s so rude! apologize right now!”

elisabetta, who had been calmly sipping her tea, slowly lowered her cup and turned to her son with a deadpan expression.

kimi blinked. “relax, i was joking—”

“joking? joking?!” elisabetta suddenly switched to full italian mom mode.

“ma che diavolo ti prende, kimi?! (what the hell is wrong with you, kimi?!)"

kimi winced. “mamma—”

“no, no, no! ti ho cresciuto meglio di così! (i raised you better than this!)”

maggie, shaking her head in pure disappointment, huffed. “i swear, i have to do everything,” she grumbled, already marching to the kitchen to get the water herself.

at this point, you were crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as kimi sat there getting absolutely destroyed in two languages.

finally, he gave up, rubbing his face in defeat.

“it was a prank...” he muttered, sighing dramatically.

elisabetta narrowed her eyes.

maggie returned with the water, setting it down in front of you with a proud smile.

“there you go, y/n. because i’m a decent human being.”

kimi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “i hate all of you.”

you smirked, taking a sip. “ah, refreshing.”

ʚ・ollie bearman

you were in the cereal aisle, reaching for a box on the top shelf, but it was just out of your grasp.

“babe,” you called sweetly, “can you grab that for me?”

ollie, without even hesitating, smirked and said, “nah, figure it out.”

silence.

his little sister’s jaw dropped.

she turned to him so fast, you swore you heard a whoosh.

“what did you just say to her?!”

ollie barely had time to react before she grabbed the nearest object—a pack of biscuits—and chucked it at him.

“ow—what the hell?!” ollie yelped, barely managing to dodge it.

she crossed her arms, glaring up at him like he had committed an actual crime.

“go get it before i tell mum you were being rude.”

ollie, still laughing but also fearing for his life, threw his hands up. “it was a prank, relax!”

his sister huffed, clearly unimpressed, before looking at you. “you don’t deserve this, y/n, you deserve someone better than my lazy brother, i think even i deserve a less lazy brother.”

ollie sighed, grabbing the cereal box and placing it in your hands.

“there, happy?”

his sister snatched the biscuits back off the floor. “no. i’m still telling mum.”

ollie groaned as you laughed, completely entertained.

this was definitely worth it.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you were seated at a small corner table, enjoying your drinks, when you realized your phone was just out of reach.

“yuki,” you asked sweetly, “can you pass me my phone?”

yuki, barely looking up from his coffee, scoffed.

“what, you can’t reach?” (ironic right...)

instant. regret.

his mum immediately stopped mid-sip, slowly setting her teacup down with an audible clink.

the café noise seemed to fade into the background as she turned, her eyes narrowing.

“tsunoda yuki! nani yatteru no!?” ("what are you doing!?")

yuki froze.

his back straightened like he was about to receive a race penalty.

“kaa-san, it was a joke!” ("mom, it was a joke!")

she stared at him for one long, judging second before exhaling sharply, picking up her tea again.

“hmph. no dinner for you tonight.”

your laughter exploded out of you, nearly choking on your drink as yuki gaped.

“what?! no, wait—”

his mum casually sipped her tea, unfazed. “you want to be rude? then you can eat air.”

yuki turned to you in pure betrayal.

“look what you did,” he muttered, shoving your phone toward you.

you smirked, taking it. “thank you, babe.”

he huffed. “i hate this family.”

his mum simply shrugged. “i’ll see if i feel bad later.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[wroetolando]

𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞 | 𝙻𝙽𝟺

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys! so sorry I haven’t been posting recently. I’ve been super busy with school with finals and graduation coming up! will be a lot more stories being posted during my spring break! april 7-11!

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x chronically online! reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where the chronically online reader gets publicly exposed by lando, roasts him on stream, and swears they’d never fold

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: cloud 9 - beach bunny

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

You had a reputation. Not in a bad way—at least, not to you. Some people called you “chronically online,” but that was just a fancy way of saying you were really, really good at the internet. You were the first to catch onto memes before they went mainstream, you knew every streamer’s latest drama, and your Twitter feed was a masterclass in unhinged yet somehow lovable posts.

Lando, however, did not fully understand the depths of your internet obsession. He was online, sure, but in a different way—his world was filled with F1 updates, Twitch streams, and the occasional chaotic group chat with his fellow drivers. Meanwhile, you lived in a universe where knowing whether a brand was about to get canceled was as essential as breathing.

And yet, somehow, he was absolutely in love with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

It started with a joke. Or, more accurately, it started with a tweet.

@yourhandle: “if lando norris ever called me babe i would simply evaporate”

He saw it. He saw it, and you knew he saw it because his little gremlin self had the audacity to like the tweet. He didn’t reply, didn’t quote it—just a simple like that sent your notifications into a frenzy.

Your friends went feral.

BESTIE, HELLO??

Did he just acknowledge your existence???

This is basically a marriage proposal.

You tried to act normal. Failed. DMed him something casual like, “did you just publicly expose me?”

To which he responded:

“Just testing a theory. Should I call you babe and see what happens?”

And that was the beginning of the end.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

It wasn’t long before you found yourself in Lando’s world—whether that meant sitting on his stream, half-distracted while scrolling your phone, or joining his Discord calls just to roast his gaming skills. The internet loved your dynamic.

“Lando getting cyberbullied by his own girlfriend is my Roman Empire.”

“Y/N being a menace online and Lando just going along with it is peak relationship goals.”

“Her: ‘He’s so dumb but he’s my dumbass.’ Him: ‘I just work here, man.’”

You two were a content goldmine, even when you weren’t trying to be.

One particular night, you were both curled up on the couch, Lando setting up for a Twitch stream while you scrolled mindlessly through your phone. You weren’t paying attention until you heard your own voice.

“Guys, I have a very special guest today,” Lando said in his usual mischievous tone. “My girlfriend, who is currently ignoring me for Twitter.”

You didn’t even look up. “That’s crazy. What’s Twitter saying?”

Chat immediately erupted.

“SHE DIDN’T EVEN LOOK UP LMFAO.”

“Peak chronically online behavior.”

“Lando, blink twice if you need help.”

Lando fake pouted. “See? She doesn’t love me, chat. She loves her parasocial relationships more.”

You finally glanced at the screen. “Why would I need a parasocial relationship when I already have you to annoy in real life?”

The clip went viral within minutes.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Despite all your time spent online, you did, in fact, exist in the real world. And the more time you spent with Lando, the more you realized how much you liked his world too.

There was something peaceful about watching him work on his racing sim, focused and determined, even when he was grumbling under his breath about understeer. There was something nice about walking into the McLaren garage and seeing how the team operated, how much they adored him.

And there was something absolutely dangerous about the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

Like right now.

You were at a race weekend, standing just outside his driver’s room, eyes glued to your phone. He was supposed to be reviewing data, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Lando,” you said without looking up, “why are you staring at me like that?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “I think I’ve figured out how to get you off your phone.”

That made you look up. “Oh? Do tell.”

A smirk curled at his lips. “No.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No?”

Instead of answering, he took two long strides forward, gently plucking your phone from your hands and placing it on the nearest table. Before you could protest, he had you backed up against the wall, his hands resting on either side of you.

Oh.

Oh, he was serious.

“Lando,” you said, a little breathless, “are you—”

“I like your little internet world, I do,” he murmured, voice warm and teasing. “But sometimes I think you should focus on this world. On me.”

You swallowed. “That so?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And right now, I want your undivided attention.”

Mission accomplished.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

You weren’t going to lie—you had expected the internet to roast you once they realized that your whole brand was being chronically online, and yet Lando had somehow turned you into a simp.

And they did roast you.

“So you’re telling me Y/N was ‘if he calls me babe I’ll evaporate’ and then Lando hit her with a real-life slow burn fanfic moment???”

“POV: You thought she was a keyboard warrior but she’s actually a simp in disguise.”

“Lando pulled a ‘look at me, I’m the main character now.’”

Lando, of course, thrived off the reactions.

You were sitting next to him on the couch when he turned his phone toward you. “Look at this one—‘Y/N has spent her entire internet existence roasting men, and yet all it took was one good wall pin for her to fold.’”

You glared at him. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “No, you don’t.”

You groaned, shoving his face away playfully before burying your head in your hands. “I will never live this down.”

He pulled you into his side, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Nope. Never.”

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to check your phone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist

[vivwritesfics]

Baby Names

"Baby, I love you," he said. "But we're not naming our baby after your celebrity crush."

celebrity crush 2.0

Lando checked his phone between interviews. Media days had become mind numbing. They had been fun, once upon a time, when his girlfriend (now wife) was there to keep him entertained.

But his wife (former girlfriend) no longer came with him to media days. She no longer came to races.

For the first four months of her pregnancy, she was happy to travel with him to races. His large hand on her not yet there bump, showing everybody the ultrasound pictures (it was hard to make out anything).

When she got further along in her pregnancy, things became uncomfortable. The bump she had to haul around, her swollen feet, the stupid, unflattering pregnancy clothes. She hated all of it.

It became easier to just not go with him. To stay home with the puppy they had adopted at the start of the 2025 season (just before they got pregnant, maybe not the best move).

So, when Lando was apart from her, he was constantly checking his phone. He took a few moments to watch the Instagram reels she sent him or to show Oscar the ridiculous memes flooding his phone. He answered her sweet messages and hearted every update on their baby.

She sent him a picture of himself as a kid. In his early karting days, looking like a little terror.

did you bite people's ankles?

Lando giggled at her message. Of course she was at home, getting sent his baby pictures by his mother.

No I didn't bite ankles.

you look like you did

There was a moment where Lando waited for the grey bubble to become a text. She typed it out a few times before hitting send.

I thought of a baby name.

???

She had given him no hints before he left for the race weekend that she was even looking at baby names yet. That was something that would come later, right? They didn't need to worry about that yet.

tell you when you get home love you

Lando texted her back, told her that he loved her. Because he really did - this was the woman he had promised to spend the rest of his life with.

***

No, she hadn't told him the baby names yet. After a good race weekend, a win, Lando couldn't wait to get home to his wife, to his baby.

It was a bit ridiculous to expect her to throw herself into his arms, kiss him all over his handsome face, and tell him her idea of a baby name. When Lando walked through the door and that didn't happen, he couldn't help but be deflated.

"Hey!" She called and waved him over to the couch.

Lando threw himself down beside her and laid his head on her stomach. "Hey baby," he whispered and kissed her stomach.

Her hands found his curls. "Congratulations, Champion," she whispered and leaned down to kiss him. Well, leaned down as best she could with her bump in the way. He wasn't World Champion yet, but soon he would be, they both knew it.

"You said something about baby names," he mumbled, comfortable against her.

She grinned down at him with an expression that hinted he should have been worried. "Hayden."

Hayden. A beautiful name for their baby. Whether they ended up having a boy or girl, Hayden Norris was a lovely name.

Lando didn't like it.

"Baby, I love you," he said. "But we're not naming our baby after your celebrity crush."

"Hayden Christensen has nothing to do with our baby!" She insisted. "It's just a pretty name. Plus, it's on theme."

Lando raised his eyebrows. "On theme?"

She scratched at his scalp. If it wasn't for the current conversation, he would have moaned. "Star Wars."

Lando pulled away from her. "No. Baby, no."

"Too bad." She folded her arms over her chest, still wearing that grin. "Your mum loves it."

[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.”

[cutielando]

family anew | lando norris

synopsis: in which you're not used to having a happy family, but Lando changes that for you

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

You had never really been one for family gatherings. Not because you didn’t like them, but because, well, you didn’t have the kind that people looked forward to.

Your relationship with your own family had been distant for as long as you could remember. Calls went unanswered, messages ignored, and when you did see them, the conversations were clipped and awkward, as if you were more of a familiar acquaintance than blood.

So when Lando invited you to meet his family, you hesitated.

“They really want to meet you,” he had said, excitement shining in his blue eyes.

He was lying next to you on the couch, fingers lazily playing with yours. “Mum’s already planning what to cook, and I’m pretty sure my sisters are going to bombard you with questions.”

You forced a smile, nodding, but your stomach twisted with unease. Meeting his family meant stepping into something unfamiliar—warmth, closeness, genuine care. It wasn’t something you were used to.

Lando seemed to notice your hesitation because his grip on your hand tightened.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice softer now. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you admitted, looking down. “I just… I don’t know if I’ll fit in.”

Lando’s brows furrowed in concern.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitated before saying,

“I’m just not used to that kind of family dynamic. My family isn’t exactly close.”

His expression softened even more.

“Then let mine be your family too.”

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando’s childhood home was nothing short of stunning, but it wasn’t the size or the decor that caught your attention—it was the warmth. The second you stepped inside, you were enveloped in it, an energy so foreign yet comforting that it nearly took your breath away.

His mother, Cisca, was the first to greet you, pulling you into a hug before you could even process it.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you!” she exclaimed, squeezing you tightly. “Lando never stops talking about you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you laughed softly, casting a glance at Lando, who merely grinned.

“It’s really nice to meet you too.”

His sisters, Flo and Cisca, were next, their enthusiasm making your nerves both spike and settle at the same time.

“So you’re the one stealing all of Lando’s attention,” Flo teased, elbowing him.

Cisca grinned. “Finally! Someone to keep him in check.”

Lando rolled his eyes, muttering, “Oh God, here we go.”

You expected to feel out of place. Instead, you found yourself laughing, being pulled into conversations, and feeling something you couldn’t quite name.

Belonging.

♡♡♡♡♡

Dinner was a lively affair. The table was filled with home-cooked food, and the conversation flowed with ease. Lando’s family wasn’t just close—they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. They told stories, teased one another, and included you in every bit of it.

“Lando was the clumsiest kid,” his mother was saying, eyes alight with amusement. “I swear, he ran into walls more times than I can count.”

“Mum,” Lando groaned, covering his face as his sisters burst into laughter.

Cisca grinned.

“Oh, don’t act embarrassed. You haven’t changed that much.”

You giggled, nudging him.

“That explains a lot, actually.”

Lando shot you a betrayed look, but you could see the happiness in his eyes. He wanted you to be part of this.

You wanted that too.

After dinner, you helped clear the table despite Cisca’s protests that you were a guest. Lando watched you from the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips as you chatted with his sisters while washing dishes.

“You fit right in,” he whispered later when he pulled you aside.

You wanted to believe that.

♡♡♡♡♡

Later that night, you found yourself in the living room, sitting beside Lando’s mother while she flipped through old photo albums. The stories she told filled in gaps you hadn’t realized existed, painting a picture of a childhood so vastly different from your own.

There were birthday parties filled with laughter, summer vacations spent together, Christmas mornings where the entire family piled onto the couch in matching pajamas.

Your fingers grazed a photo of Lando as a child, grinning wildly with a missing front tooth. He looked so happy.

“You didn’t grow up like this, did you?” Cisca asked gently, as if she already knew the answer.

You swallowed. “No.”

She reached over, squeezing your hand.

“Families aren’t just the ones we’re born into. Sometimes, we find them in places we least expect.”

Your eyes stung. No one had ever told you that before.

♡♡♡♡♡

It wasn’t until later that night that Lando found you outside on the patio, staring up at the sky, deep in thought. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Alright, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You sighed, leaning into his warmth.

“I just… It’s so different from what I’m used to. Your family, they love each other so much. It’s… It’s amazing.”

He turned you around gently so you were facing him.

“And that’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice quiet. “It’s just hard to accept that kind of love when you’ve never had it.”

Lando cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“You deserve it. Every bit of it.”

Your throat tightened. “But what if I don’t fit in?”

He shook his head. “You already do. My mum loves you, my sisters adore you, and I—” He hesitated for a moment before smiling softly. “I love you.”

Your heart stilled. “You do?”

“I do.” His voice was steady, sure. “And love isn’t something you have to earn, alright? It’s given. Freely. You don’t have to be used to it—you just have to let yourself feel it.”

Tears burned the back of your eyes, but for the first time in a long time, they weren’t from sadness. They were from something lighter, something warmer.

Maybe love wasn’t something you had to be afraid of.

Maybe, just maybe, home wasn’t a place.

Maybe home was a person.

And maybe, just maybe, your home had curly hair, blue eyes, and a heart big enough to hold all the love you had been missing.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[eclipsedcherry]

THIS WAS SO SO SWEET OMG 😭😭

✩ lights, camera, action! 📸

pairing: lando norris x reader

cw: fluff, annoying reporters, austria 2024

wc: 4.9k words

an: thanks for the req anon, hope u like it! pls excuse any spelling errors i could not be arsed enough to proofread this more than twice :p

“So, they’re just going to be in our house… recording us the entire day?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“And this is happening for a month?”

“Maybe two, depending on how much footage they need.”

A beat of silence.

Lando turned to his girlfriend, watching as she set her Kindle down and looked at him with a sharp glare. All she had wanted was a quiet night in, some light reading before bed, not this conversation.

“So, what do you think?” he asked carefully.

“I think you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Lando stifled a chuckle, scooting closer despite the warning in her eyes. “It’s not that bad, I promise. They’ll get all your good angles. And if there’s anything you don’t want in, I’ll make sure they cut it out.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. The idea of letting a camera crew into their home, her safe space, the one place where she could collapse onto the couch after work without a second thought, was unsettling.

“Look, I’m not going to force you,” Lando said, his voice softer now. “Just think about it. It’s like… our moments together being immortalized.”

She arched her brow, still unconvinced.

“We could even look back on them years later,” he continued, ever the optimist. “Show them to our kids!”

Y/N gave him a long, unimpressed stare.

“Just give me a day or two,” she muttered at last.

“Of course, love.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting the subject drop.

Three days later, Y/N found herself reluctantly agreeing, under strict conditions:

1. No cameras before 9 AM or after 10 PM.

2. No filming arguments or fights (if they happened).

3. No recording private conversations.

The production team had no issue following her rules, and soon enough, cameras and microphones became a regular sight in their living room and kitchen.

To her surprise, it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The Drive To Survive crew was respectful, and off-camera, they were actually lovely to talk to.

Not that she’d ever admit it to Lando. She had no interest in hearing an “ I told you so.”

Still, she had to admit, there was something oddly enjoyable about it. The cameras felt natural, capturing the effortless way she and Lando fit together. Their banter. Their energy.

Even the crew enjoyed filming them. Because if there was one thing about Y/N and Lando, it was that they were effortlessly entertaining.

The couple had an air of domesticity around them, which was visible during certain moments, like when Y/N announced she was going grocery shopping.

🪻🪻

She didn’t question it at first.

Lando had followed her around their apartment, slipping on his hoodie and sneakers, acting as if they were about to embark on some thrilling adventure rather than… well, a simple trip to the grocery store. But when he practically rushed out the door behind her, stuffing his hands into his pockets like he was trying to play it cool, she finally turned to him with a raised brow.

"Alright, what’s going on?"

Lando blinked at her, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"

"You insisted on coming with me," she pointed out as she slid into the passenger seat of her car. "Since when are you so eager to go grocery shopping?"

Lando smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Maybe I just like spending time with you."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "It’s just shopping, Lando."

"Yes… and?"

She shot him a look, but he only grinned, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with hers as he started the car. She glanced down at their joined hands, warmth flickering in her chest.

Maybe it was just shopping. But to him, time with her, no matter how mundane, was worth tagging along for.

The grocery store was as uneventful as ever, aisles filled with tired parents, students grabbing last-minute essentials, and employees stacking shelves. Y/N navigated the space with practiced ease, mentally ticking off the list in her head.

Lando, on the other hand, was thoroughly entertained by everything.

"You know, people are going to think I’m useless because you’re the one actually shopping," Lando mused, walking beside you with a basket dangling from his arm. A small mic was clipped to his hoodie, and a camera trailed at a respectful distance, catching every moment.

"You are useless," you teased, grabbing a carton of eggs and placing them into the basket.

Lando let out a scandalized gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "Excuse me? I am an excellent grocery shopper. Watch this."

Before you could stop him, he darted toward a display of snacks, dramatically grabbing a family-sized bag of chips and tossing it into the basket. The camera crew caught it all, no doubt enjoying his antics.

"Wow," you said dryly, watching him grin. "Such a valuable contribution."

"You’re welcome." He leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "At least pretend I’m helpful, love. My reputation is at stake."

She shook her head, amused. He stayed close beside her, fingers occasionally brushing hers when he pointed out random things, a ridiculous cereal box, a weirdly shaped vegetable, an overpriced snack that made him nearly collapse in shock.

Then, as they rounded the next aisle, something caught her eye.

"No way," Y/N gasped, halting so suddenly that Lando bumped into her.

"What? What happened? Are we in danger?" he asked dramatically, clutching her arm.

She ignored him, grabbing a brightly colored package from the meat fridge. “It’s the spicy chorizo I was looking for! It’s been out of stock for months! Lando, do you know what this means?"

"Uh," he blinked, glancing at the box in her hands. "That some company is trying to get people to buy their products again?"

She huffed. "No, dummy. This means I can finally make those chorizo tapas you love so much."

Lando stared at her, as if processing her words. "Wait. You mean—?"

"Yeah," she said, waving the package at him. "You always say it’s one of your favorites, right? So I’ll make it the way it’s meant to be made, not with those other lame brands.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just looked at her. And then, unexpectedly, he reached for her hand and squeezed it, his thumb running over her knuckles.

"You remembered that?" His voice was quieter now, softer.

She scoffed. "Of course, I did. You never shut up about it."

Lando let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, but there was something fond in his eyes, something almost touched.

"You’re the best," he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Right there in the middle of the grocery aisle, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, with an old woman giving them a knowing smile as she passed.

Y/N felt warmth creep up her neck, but she just rolled her eyes. "I know."

Lando grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they continued walking. "See? And you thought I was weird for wanting to tag along."

"You are weird."

"Yeah, but I’m your kind of weird."

She laughed, leaning into his side as they made their way to checkout.

Maybe it was just shopping.

But with Lando, even the ordinary felt like something special.

🪻🪻🪻

The morning sun cast a golden glow over their Monaco apartment, filling the space with soft warmth. The neatly packed bags by the door were a reminder of the plans they’d made, plans Y/N had initially thought were just a fleeting idea when Lando suggested them. But here they were, two years into their relationship, and he was still finding ways to make things special.

Lando stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, voice still thick with sleep.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

She smiled, tilting her head slightly to press a kiss to his forehead. “Happy anniversary, Lando.”

He hummed in contentment, pulling her closer. “Can we just stay in bed all day instead?”

Y/N laughed softly, tracing lazy patterns along his back. “As tempting as that sounds, weren’t you the one who planned this whole day trip?”

Lando groaned dramatically, burying his face deeper into the pillow. “Who let me make decisions?”

“You did.”

Another groan.

A small chuckle from the corner of the room made her glance over, where one of the film crew members was adjusting a camera, capturing the intimate yet domestic moment. Lando peeked an eye open and groaned even louder when he saw them.

“Great,” he mumbled. “Now the world gets to see me beg to stay in bed.”

Y/N grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his nose before slipping out from under the covers. “Come on, sleepyhead. We have a road trip to go on.”

By mid-morning, they were driving along the winding coastal roads of the French Riviera, two crew members filming them from the back seat, capturing snippets of their journey. Lando’s hand rested on Y/N’s thigh as he effortlessly steered with the other, the soft hum of music filling the space between them.

She glanced over at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “So, are you ever going to tell me why you picked Èze?”

Lando smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to impress you with my impeccable taste?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her fondness.

The moment they arrived in Èze, Lando reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers as they wandered through the narrow, cobbled streets. The medieval village, perched high above the Côte d’Azur, was breathtaking, its stone walls adorned with climbing vines, small boutiques tucked into hidden corners, and the salty sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh flowers.

The crew trailed them subtly, capturing the way Lando would lean in every few minutes just to steal a quick kiss, or how his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns against her skin as they stopped to admire the view.

“You do realize people are going to say you’re way too clingy, right?” Y/N teased, nodding toward one of the cameras.

Lando shrugged, unbothered. “Let them.” He turned to the nearest cameraman, grinning. “I am clingy. Make sure you put that in the episode.”

The crew chuckled, but Y/N just shook her head, laughing as Lando pulled her into the nearest café.

Lunch was slow and easy, filled with stolen bites of food, quiet laughter, and the occasional “Look at him being soft” comment from Y/N to the film crew. Lando didn’t seem to care, not when she was there, looking at him like he was her favorite thing in the world.

When dessert arrived, two chocolate soufflés, Lando picked up a spoonful and held it out for her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to feed me while they’re filming?”

He smirked. “It’s romantic.”

She rolled her eyes but leaned in anyway, letting him feed her. Lando grinned triumphantly, stealing a bite for himself.

“Put that in the episode, too,” he quipped.

As the afternoon stretched on, they hiked up to the Jardin Exotique, a stunning garden perched at the very top of Èze. The panoramic view of the coastline was nothing short of magical, the kind of scene that made everything else feel small in comparison.

Lando wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“This might be my favorite anniversary so far,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, tilting her head to rest against his. “We’ve only had two.”

“Still. It’s hard to beat.”

A breeze drifted through, ruffling his curls as he held her, their hands fitting together so effortlessly.

Y/N turned in his arms, her gaze soft. “I love you, you know.”

Lando’s eyes searched hers for a moment before he cupped her face, pressing a slow, tender kiss to her lips, one that felt like a promise, like forever.

When they pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, exhaling deeply. “I know,” he whispered. “And I love you more.”

A cough from behind them broke the moment, and one of the crew members hesitated before speaking.

“Uh… that was beautiful,” they admitted. “Can you do it again for a better angle?”

Lando groaned as Y/N burst into laughter.

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, pulling her closer with a mischievous grin. “Guess we have to keep kissing.”

🪻🪻🪻

The second Y/N stepped into the apartment, she knew something was different. It wasn’t just the warmth of the space or the soft glow of the kitchen lights, there was something familiar in the air. A rich, buttery scent, layered with warm spices, the kind that immediately sent a comforting feeling straight to her soul.

She froze mid-step.

That was butter chicken.

Her favorite food.

And there was only one person in this house who would make that for her.

Her heart raced as she set her bag down and rounded the corner into the kitchen, where she found exactly what she hoped to see Lando, standing at the stove, stirring a pot with the kind of focus he usually reserved for a race car. His curls were still damp from a recent shower, his sleeves pushed up as he leaned against the counter, tasting the sauce with an expression of concentration.

He looked up just as she entered, and the slow smile that spread across his face made her stomach flip.

“Hey, love.”

She blinked, still processing. “You’re… home?”

He smirked. “Surprise.”

Her mouth fell open. “But… you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow night?”

“Got an earlier flight.” He turned back to the stove, giving the pot one last stir before lowering the heat. “Figured I’d come back and make your favorite.”

She couldn’t believe it. She had been fully prepared to spend the evening alone, eating something mediocre while scrolling through her phone, missing him. But instead, he was here. Cooking for her.

Y/N didn’t think, she just launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his hoodie as she breathed him in.

Lando laughed as he caught her, arms circling her shoulders as he held her close. “I take it you missed me?”

“Obviously,” she mumbled against his chest. “You were gone for so long.”

“Babe, it was five days.”

“Exactly. Too long.”

He chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to her hair. “Missed you too, love.”

A throat cleared from the corner of the kitchen, and Y/N stiffened slightly before peeking over Lando’s shoulder, only to find one of the crew members, clearly amused.

She groaned, burying her face back into Lando’s chest. “You let them film this?”

“I didn’t let them,” he said, amused. “They just… didn’t leave. Wanted to see you surprised and all.”

One of the crew members laughed. “In our defense, this is adorable.”

Lando grinned, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. “Come on, love. You don’t want the world to see how obsessed you are with me?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I will shove your face into that butter chicken.”

His smirk widened. “Joke’s on you, I made extra.”

She rolled her eyes but let him pull her closer, letting herself bask in the warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of home.

Later, as they sat at the dining table, Lando watched her take her first bite, waiting for her reaction like a nervous contestant on a cooking show.

Y/N hummed in delight, eyes closing briefly as the flavors hit her tongue. “Oh my God.”

His lips twitched. “Good?”

She opened her eyes, pointing her spoon at him. “Suspiciously good. Since when can you cook like this?”

Lando leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “What, you think I can’t learn things?”

“I just… didn’t know you wanted to.”

He shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to impress my girlfriend.”

Y/N softened, her heart swelling. “You have impressed me. This is amazing.”

“Damn right it is.”

She giggled, shaking her head before taking another bite. “Okay, tell me about Shanghai. How was the race?”

Lando exhaled dramatically, shifting in his seat. “Ugh. Where do I even start? First of all, the strategy was so weird, like, I don’t know what they were thinking. And then, I had this fight with Max for like a hundred laps, and I swear, I thought we were gonna crash at least three times—”

As he continued, his hands animatedly reenacting the on-track battles, Y/N just sat there, watching him, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

She loved seeing him like this, completely in his element, passionate, excited. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about racing, the way his hands moved as if he were still behind the wheel.

“You’re staring,” Lando suddenly noted, smirking.

She blinked, cheeks warming. “No, I’m not.”

“You are.” He leaned in, resting his chin in his hand as he grinned. “You’re in love with me.”

She scoffed, trying (and failing) to hide her smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Norris.”

“I mean, I did just fly home early and make your favorite food…” He reached across the table, running his fingers gently over her wrist. “Pretty sure that earns me some extra love points.”

Y/N laughed softly, flipping her hand to intertwine their fingers. “You already have all my love points, you idiot.”

He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Good. I plan on keeping them.”

She shook her head, taking another bite of the butter chicken. “Okay, but seriously, I want to hear the rest. So, you and Max—”

“Shh.” Lando reached over and gently placed a spoonful of rice on her plate, then another, before looking at her expectantly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you just—”

“Just shh and eat,” he said, his voice playfully firm. “I know you. If I let you talk too much, you’ll forget to eat, and then you’ll be grumpy later.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the corners of her lips twitched. “You’re so annoying.”

Lando laughed, leaning over the table to steal a quick kiss. “Yeah, yeah. Now eat up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but obeyed, feeling impossibly warm inside.

There was something so simple about moments like this, the quiet, easy rhythm of their lives together. The way Lando cared for her in ways that weren’t always grand gestures but in the little things. The way he listened, the way he noticed, the way he just knew her.

Even with cameras in the background, even with the world watching, this was theirs.

And Y/N wouldn’t trade it for anything.

🪻🪻🪻

Las Vegas was supposed to be his night.

Lando sat in the dimly lit hospitality suite, still in his race suit, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white. The weight of the evening pressed down on him, Max had clinched the title, and he had been so close. The points gap wasn’t enormous. If things had gone just slightly differently, if the strategy had been sharper, if he had just pushed a little harder—

He exhaled sharply, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the floor.

The suite was silent, except for the muffled sounds of celebration echoing from outside. His team was still proud, of course. McLaren had fought hard all season. He had fought hard. But second place wasn’t the dream. First was the dream.

And he had lost it.

The quiet creak of the door barely registered in his mind, but the soft footsteps that followed were unmistakable.

Y/N.

She didn’t say anything at first. She simply walked over, standing beside him for a moment, watching him.

Then, she crouched down in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “Lando.”

His eyes flickered up to hers. He knew the cameras were still rolling somewhere in the room, capturing all of this, his frustration, his exhaustion, the moment where his season had slipped away.

But right now, he didn’t care.

Y/N’s gaze was steady, her touch grounding. Slowly, she reached up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the sharp line of his jaw.

“Talk to me,” she murmured.

Lando exhaled through his nose, his hand coming up to cover hers, pressing it against his skin as if he needed the contact to anchor him.

“I should’ve done more,” he finally muttered.

She frowned. “Lando—”

“No, really,” he cut in, shaking his head. “It was so close. We had the pace. We had the car. I just—” He exhaled roughly, eyes darting away. “I wasn’t good enough.”

Her heart ached at the way he said it, at the way his voice dipped into something raw and self-deprecating.

“Lando,” she said softly but firmly, tilting his face back toward her. “You were more than good enough.”

He let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Because you expect perfection from yourself. But look at what you did this season. Look at how hard you fought. You challenged Max. You took it down to the wire when no one thought you could. You made them believe.”

His gaze softened, but she wasn’t finished.

“You think second place makes you less?” she whispered. “It doesn’t. You’re still you, Lando. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

His throat bobbed, his grip on her hand tightening.

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbled.

Y/N shook her head. “I never just say things. You know that.”

He let out a slow breath, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to hold onto her words, trying to let them sink in.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, with a small sigh, he pulled her into his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

She smiled faintly, running her fingers through his curls. He never did well with failure, not because he wasn’t used to it, but because he always carried it too much.

But he wasn’t alone in this.

And as she held him, rocking him slightly, she could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease.

The crew was still there, capturing every second.

But all Lando cared about was her.

And somehow, for the first time all night, losing didn’t feel quite so devastating.

The press pen after the race was always exhausting, but tonight, it was unbearable.

Lando had lost the championship. He had done every interview with his usual composure, polite, measured, controlled. He had smiled when necessary, congratulated Max, and answered the same four questions in slightly different ways.

But this one?

This one was pushing it.

"Lando, do you think this was your only real shot at a title? Or do you worry you might just not have what it takes?"

The question landed like a slap.

Lando barely blinked. His PR training kicked in immediately, forcing a neutral expression as he nodded, exhaling through his nose.

"Look, we had a great season, and I’m proud of what we achieved. Obviously, it didn’t end the way we wanted, but I know we’ll come back stronger."

It was the kind of answer that was designed to deflect, to keep things from escalating.

The interviewer, however, seemed satisfied with their little dig, moving on to the next driver.

Lando barely had time to process it before he heard a very familiar voice from just beyond the camera crew.

"Are you actually kidding me right now?"

He turned just in time to see Y/N standing off to the side, arms crossed, glaring absolute murder at the interviewer’s back.

The Drive to Survive crew, who had been filming his interview, immediately turned their cameras to her.

"What kind of stupid question was that?" she ranted, clearly not caring that she was being recorded. "‘Do you think you don’t have what it takes?’ Seriously? What kind of journalism school did this guy go to? All he knows is how to rile people up!”

Lando pressed his lips together, trying very, very hard not to laugh.

She was fuming.

"He should be embarrassed," she continued, still glaring. "Lando literally fought for this title until the last possible second, and that’s the best he could come up with? I should go over there right now—"

Lando immediately stepped in, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his chest before she could march into the press pen and make headlines. "Alright, alright," he murmured against her hair, biting back a grin. "That’s enough murder threats for one night."

"I wasn’t threatening murder," she huffed, but she didn’t resist when he turned her to face him. "I was just saying that guy deserves to step on fifty Legos barefoot."

"That’s fair," Lando admitted, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "But I promise, I’m okay."

She searched his face, still frowning slightly. "You shouldn’t have to deal with that."

"I know." He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But I’d rather deal with bad interviews than have to bail my girlfriend out for punching a reporter."

"No promises," she muttered, but her lips twitched, betraying her frustration.

Lando chuckled, then, because he simply couldn’t help himself, tilted her chin up and kissed her, slow and soft, like he had all the time in the world.

He felt the presence of what seemed to be a thousand cameras on them, but he didn’t care.

Because right now, nothing else mattered.

🪻🪻🪻

The studio setup was familiar by now, the sleek black backdrop, the dramatic lighting, the Drive to Survive crew hovering around with their cameras and microphones. It was the same place where all the serious, intense driver interviews had been filmed throughout the season.

Except today, it wasn’t serious.

Because today, it was Lando and Y/N sitting on the interview couch together, and nothing about them being in the same room was ever serious.

Lando leaned back comfortably, one arm draped over the back of the couch behind Y/N, while she sat cross-legged beside him, her fingers lazily toying with the hem of her dress. The crew had barely started rolling when he shot the camera a mischievous grin.

“So,” he said, adjusting his mic, “are we finally getting our own spin-off? Because I think the world deserves to see the behind-the-scenes of my life with this one.” He nudged Y/N playfully.

She snorted. “Your life? Excuse me? I’m the normal one in this relationship.”

The interviewer chuckled. “Lando, would you agree with that?”

Lando turned to her, looking absolutely scandalized. “Absolutely not. This woman started a verbal fight with a group of fans and nearly went after a reporter on my behalf. The only reason she’s not banned from the paddock is because she’s cute.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “The only reason you weren’t banned from my apartment after losing the title was because you’re cute.”

Lando grinned, nudging her shoulder. “So you admit it? I am cute?”

The crew laughed as Y/N let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “Fine. You’re alright.”

“Alright?” He turned to the camera. “You see how she treats me?”

The interviewer, still chuckling, moved on. “Alright, let’s go back to the start of the season. You’ve had a whirlwind year Lando, you were a title contender, and Y/N, you were very vocal throughout. What’s been your favorite moment we’ve captured?”

Y/N hummed, tapping her chin. “Ooh, good question. Probably when Lando lost his mind after that crash with Max.”

The crew laughed knowingly.

Lando groaned, but he was smiling. “Of course that’s your favorite. Not like, I don’t know, any of my actual racing?”

“Oh, right,” she said, grinning. “The whole driving really fast thing. You’re decent at that.”

The interviewer raised a brow. “Just decent?”

Lando turned to Y/N, smirking. “I was in a title fight, you know.”

“Okay, okay, you were great,” she admitted, patting his knee. “There. Happy?”

Lando nodded smugly. “Very.”

The interviewer smiled. “And Lando, what about you? Favorite moment we’ve captured?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Her reaction after my first win in Miami.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

Lando looked at her, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, I mean I’d never seen you that happy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I like making you happy.”

Y/N bit her lip, warmth spreading in her chest. “Okay, that was kinda sweet.”

“I have my moments,” Lando said, leaning in closer. “You should kiss me now.”

The crew laughed, but Y/N just pushed his face away with a laugh. “We’re literally being filmed right now, Norris.”

“Yeah, and?”

The interviewer, still amused, decided to wrap things up. “Alright, last question. If you had to describe this season in one word, what would it be?”

Lando thought for a second, then smirked. “Chaotic.”

Y/N groaned. “Please don’t say—”

“Because of you,” Lando finished, grinning as he dodged the pillow she threw at him.

She sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Fine. Then my word is entertaining, because watching Lando suffer through PR answers all season has been hilarious.”

Lando turned to the camera, deadpan. “She’s so lucky I love her.”

The crew laughed as Y/N leaned into him, stealing a quick peck on his cheek. “And you’re so lucky I put up with you.”

He smiled, lacing their fingers together. “Best kind of luck, isn’t it?”

And just like that, the season wrapped.

not so sure about this one, but then again when am i ever sure about anything! <3 also i am accepting requests, so feel free to send your prompts or ideas with any of the drivers xoxo

[chiara8104]

i was wondering if u could do lando x reader fluff? maybe one where they've been together for a long time and are going back in time and remembering the day they met, meeting the parents, friends. something like that PLEASE!!!!

New beginnings | ln4

————-————-————-————-————-—————

a/n: this is such an amazing request!! when I saw it, it immediately caught my eye!! I hope you enjoy! Sorry I haven’t been replying to all of ur requests! I have a singing audition and a physics midterm very soon and I’m pretty stressed! I will try my best to get to everyone’s requests! don’t forget requests are always open!! xo chia

summary: lando and y/n take a trip down memory lane.

warnings: fluff, swearing, use of y/n!, use of pet names, italics = hello mean flashback. not proofread (sorry loves!)

wc: idk

————-————-————-————-————-—————

Moving day

You had agreed to move in with lando after months of begging from him. And there you were, sitting at your apartment packing up all your things, putting them into moving boxes and carrying them downstairs.

You had walked outside to the moving truck and gave lando the box, he grabbed it out of your grasp and put it in the back. “How about some food?” You smile at him. “Why not,” he ginned back at you.

You both walked to the kitchen together. You scrummaged around in the fridge trying to find some type of food, the fridge was basically bare until you came across a couple eggs and some veggies.

You grab the eggs and crack them into a bowl, cutting up the veggies you found and adding them into the bowl. You turn on the last pan you had in the kitchen and started to made some omelettes for the both of you. You start to realize this was the last time you would be in this apartment, cooking a meal for you and your boyfriend. You started to feel sappy and looked back down at the now, cooked omelette.

You looked around in the cupboards to find no plates “fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. That was the first box you took to landos. “Something wrong?” Lando looked at your puzzled state. “I forgot I packed all my plates first, they’re already at your house,” you let out a heavy sigh. “It’s fine, we’ll eat out of the pan,”he smiled slightly at you. “Hopefully I can find some type of cutlery around here,”

As you continued to look around your somewhat empty kitchen, you find a couple old forks and knives laying around. Ones you forgot even existed. You swiftly grabbed them and walked over to lando. You both enjoyed the quiet, relaxing times with him. All the chaos can be so overwhelming, lando with f1 and you with university.

Once you finished your omelettes, you walked back to your room. There were a few boxes that were laying around, but one caught your eye. It was the sentimental box, full of Polaroids of your friends, lando, and even your old cat, Luna. You smiled at the photos, and scrummaged through the box. You found your old camcorder you thrifted back in 2018. You opened the camcorder, praying that it’ll turn on and to your surprise it did.

You scroll back to the first video taken on the camcorder and smiled. It was you. Walking with your camcorder in hand to a place in the park with a mysterious man. But that man wasn’t just anyone, it was lando. His voice was squeaky “hey!” he smiled at the camcorder. You grinned at seeing his younger state, until the camcorder got passed to lando to show yourself. You cringed at your old state, the ripped skinny jeans and old, beaten up black vans. “Oh god,” you quickly close the camcorder before lando walked in. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen this in years.” He walked closer to you, grabbing it out of you hands and opening it.

Lando scrolled through all the videos the two of you made over the past few years. Ones you forgotten about. Lando clicked on one, “hey guys,” you say in the background, your camera pointed at lando. “Today, lando is meeting my parents!” Lando turned beet red in the video, his anxious stance was very present in the video. He had some type of flowers he bought from the floral shop not too long before. Lando takes a deep breath and knocks on the door of your mum and dad’s home. Swiftly the door opened, your mum greeting lando with a big hug. “You must be lando! I’ve heard so much about you,” lando was tense in the grasp of your mum, but slightly relaxed a few seconds. He let go of your mum and handed her the flowers. “These are for you,” he said nervously, he smiled when she looked at them. “Oh! These are beautiful. Thank you dear,” your mum turned her body to let you two in. Hugging you when you came by. Once you had gotten further into the house the video stopped completely.

You smiled at lando who was giggling slightly at the horrible camera work, after all, he did have a photography account. You grabbed the camcorder out of his hands and started to record, "hey guys," you said in the background, the camera pointed to the (almost) empty room. "Lando is helping me move out. We're moving in together!" you cheerfully exclaim, you turn the camcorder to lando who is continuing to look through your sentimentals. You shoved the camcorder right in his face, he smiled and waved at the camcorder. "im showing this to our future kids," you grin. "Kids, eh?" he smirked, you hit him playfully, "duh."

You continued to walk around the apartment, giving a slight story to your 'audience' about every place in your apartment. Finally you got to the front door, a bittersweet feeling slowly started to kick in. You hear footsteps coming towards you, it was lando carrying your last box. You sigh heavily, placing the camcorder down, it pointing towards the two of you. "So, this is it, huh." you mumble, lando pats your back contently. "New beginnings love. I'm so excited for you to move in with me! " he was calm, hopeful, excited. You smile at his cheerfulness and gave lando a quick peck on the kiss. "I cannot wait to start my new beginning with you," your face lit up and you grabbed the camcorder from the ground. "Well, this is it! Bye guys," you smile. Lando peering over your shoulder, "byeeee!" he waves.

You sigh as you end the recording. You start to slowly walk out of your apartment, lando following behind with the last box. He places it down when he gets outside your front door, you hesitantly close it. You grab the keys out of your pocket and fiddle trying to grab the right one, you were anxious. What happens if you guys break up? All these negative emotions fill your thoughts until lando sees your uneasy state. He places his hand over your now shaking hand. You take a deep breath and lock your door. You turn to lando.

"To new beginnings," you smile.

"To new beginnings, love." lando kisses you.

————-————-————-————-————-—————

a/n: here we go! second fic. more are coming. I hope you guys enjoyed. I might make this a multi-part fic, with different cute videos y/n and lando find if people want that (comment or send in a request telling me!!) anyway, requests are always open. <3 thank you for everyone and their support on the max fic! everyone is so sweet and supportive.

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (4) - ln4

Christmas Day starts without a hitch, but when you have some wine with Max, and Lando with his family--you find that maybe Penelope isn't as crazy as you think she's been these past few weeks. Also, Max Fewtrell finally makes his appearance.

warnings/notes: holy fucking shit y'all iM SO SORRY?? its been... too long!! hopefully this quarter will be a lot lighter for me, and I wont be as depressed (tmi but yay meds!) so i can get this baby FINISHED.

(prev | next)

It's early when the Norris' come back to the apartment, whisking into the home with an absurd amount of energy. You pause in the doorway, looking over at the family squishing through the front hall as they discard shoes and jackets, happily chatting with Lando.

You stood in the kitchen, making by far the most simple breakfast you could muster while the family was exchanging. Humming softly along to the radio. Despite knowing they'd welcome you, theres something that makes you feel a bit awkward joining in on the morning festivities. And so, you use the excuse of cooking to hide away from them all. It feels like you're encroaching, so you just keep your head down.

It's Mrs. Norris who intercepts you in the kitchen, a soft smile on her lips as she sets a little bag down on the counter, "Merry Christmas."

"You didn't have to." You immediately say, and Cisca shakes her head, pressing the gift a bit closer to you.

"I know my son, and in the course of a few days with him you've managed to make this flat look like a home, teach him to cook, got us gifts, made sure he didn't screw up Christmas... I think you deserve a little something, yeah?"

Inside is a bottle of wine, some brand Lando had probably seen you buy during a trip to the store, and a little wad of cash and some gift cards. Nothing big, but still more than you were expecting.

"Oh, Mrs. Norris, thank you." you say softly, stepping over to give her a tight hug. She only smiles, giving you a little squeeze on the arm, before ushering you to tell her what to do to help you with breakfast. Fifteen minutes later, plates are being piled up with food while you entertain Savannah's girls with their gifts. The whole apartment feels cozy, and when you lift your head--almost every time you catch Lando watching you with a tiny smile.

It's noon when Max calls.

"I know I said you'd be off for the holidays..." he starts, tentatively, "but Kelly's not feeling the best and doesn't want to cook, and I can try but we know how that goes--"

"It's alright, Max." You quickly reassure him, handing little Mila over to her father as Oliver nestles the half asleep toddler to his chest. You run a hand along the top of your head and sigh, "What time do you need me over?"

"When can you get here?" Max says and you look around. Lando's entertained with his family, and Savannah and Oliver give you a little nudge to go.

"Let me grab my bag." You say into the phone, followed by a bye as Max thanks you, and you turn on your heel to rush into your bedroom. You're midway through packing when a soft knock gets your attention and you look back to the door--Lando giving you a soft smile.

"Going to see the little princess?" He asks softly and you toss your bag over your shoulder as you stand, sighing and rubbing the side of your neck as if it aches the way your chest does when you see the sadness in Lando's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kelly's sick again and--" "--Don't apologize," Lando holds up a hand, "It's your job."

You run your hand along your neck, moving closer, "I still feel bad--"

"--I'm not going anywhere, you know? Our place will still be here when you're done."

"Our place?" You tease softly, stepping over as you tug your bag over your shoulder, stepping up to stand nearly chest to chest with Lando. He smiles, gently leaning on the side of the doorframe.

"Yes, our apartment. Forget... staying here while you look for a new place." He murmurs, gently taking one of your hands. Every ounce of his confident bravado fades, and he offers you a sheepish smile, "I didn't realize how much I missed having a roommate until Max ended up moving out, now he lives with P--which is awesome for them but... having you around is quite wonderful too."

"Wonderful? You're using big boy words today!" You smile and Lando flushed, playfully punching your arm in response with a little scowl as he huffs,

"Can you stop ruining the moment?"

You laugh, pushing his shoulder and grinning when he stumbles back, smiling at you as you tug your purse tighter around your shoulder, "I'll see you later, yeah? When I get back to our apartment."

Lando just nods, grinning as you wave goodbye to his family. He escorts you to the door like you're a guest, holding your bag and phone as you throw on a pair of nice sneakers, and when you take your bag back you have to resist the urge to kiss his cheek.

As you're walking to the elevator, you catch the blush on your cheeks in a mirror, and have to swallow it down as you jam the 'up' button for the elevator because standing in the hall longer will make you want to run back to Lando.

Upstairs, Penelope is waiting for you in the hallway, her arms crossed. When you inquiry on why she's so upset, she huffs, "you haven't kissed him yet!"

"Kissed who?" You ask, looking up to Max in the doorway who struggles to cover Penelope's mouth as the girl goes to shout. He ends up smushing her face into his palms, using his heel to keep the door open as he speaks at half Penelope's volume in the early morning.

"She thinks you and Lando are dating or something." Max supplies, making you pause half step as you nearly stumble over your feet in shock. Dating? Did people think you were dating? Did Lando's family think you were dating?

You sputter, "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"He's really nice to you, and he smiles when you talk, and you get all blushy when he's around!" She demands, stomping her little foot, and you laugh--running your fingers through her hair before walking into the home as Max holds the door.

"He's just a friend." You say softly, though it's not your feelings you're protecting. You know he's a sweetheart. It's Lando for crying out loud, he'd rather cry than hurt someone's feelings with something said outside of the heat of the moment. And even then, you'd been there for times Max had Lando over for chats after stressful weekends, or listened to Max when he ranted about how much pressure was put on the guy.

Penelope continues to protest for a while, and you worked on grabbing the ingredients for the dinner Max tells you Kelly wanted to make while she blabbed. But when someone knocks on the door, you wipe your hands off on your apron as you go to grab it.

Lando's on the other side, your phone in hand, sheepishly murmuring, "I realized I never handed it back to you."

If you could hear Penelope's mischievous giggle from the other room, you would've looked back at her, unfortunately Kelly's laughter along with Victoria overpowers the sound of Penelope running across the kitchen to the living room with Nino at her heels.

"Oh!" You laugh softly, taking the device from his hands with a tiny smile, "Thank you, I hadn't even noticed! Penelope's been keeping me busy and--"

Something bonks your forehead.

"Oh." Lando's face turns red, and you blink up to see a tiny little buschel on a string. It swings, bonking you again, and you follow the string to where Penelope proudly holds her makeshift fishing rod of misletoe right between you and Lando.

"Penelope Piquet-Kyvat." You snip, looking at the girl who grins with all her all teeth, practically ear to ear.

"You have to kiss, thats the rule!" she chimes, and Kelly gasps, slowly getting up to do her little pregnant waddle across the room--attempting to take the rod from her daughter's hand. It was clearly some type of gag gift, based on how hard Victoria was trying not to laugh while Max looked mortified.

"Penelope! Come on, leave them alone!"

Lando coughs, trying to cover up a laugh, and without thinking you whack his shoulder to keep him quiet. But when your eyes meet, its impossible to not laugh. Being quiet to make Penelope know what she was doing was rude would be best, but with the tears in Lando's eyes from him trying not to laugh, it's impossible. You let a giggle out, covering your mouth, before you both crack and start cackling.

"Penelope, come on," Lando waves a hand, "I'm not kissing her, we aren't dating."

"But you could be," Penelope reasons, crossing her arms as the toy is finally yanked from her hands by Kelly--who playfully whacks a giggling Max with it when she crosses the room again--sending Victoria and Sophie in fits of laughter.

"Penny, come on." You sigh softly, but the girl is set in her mind that you two will end up together. She crosses her arms, pouts, and all but throws a tantrum before she shouts,

"You have to kiss!"

Lando looks at you, eyes flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes a few times. Kelly and Max are now trying to get Penelope to leave you both alone, and for five minutes, you try to get her to give it up. Then Lando laments, and gently presses a kiss to your cheek instead. Which, if her giggles are any sign, satisfies Penelope for now as she runs into her Mom's awaiting hands.

Max mouths a sorry, trying not to laugh as Kelly fails to scold the toddler, and your attention is drawn by Lando gently squeezing your wrist.

When you glance over, he sheepishly murmurs, "sorry for just... doing that without asking."

"It's fine, Lan." You give him a soft smile, "Penelope might stop bothering us now."

Lando laughs at that, and you do to, but the underlying tension of the moment stays and lingers like a phantom pain long after Lando goes back downstairs. You feel the tingle of the kiss through cooking, serving, and eating dinner. Max cornering you while you're cleaning up isn't surprising, especially not when he hands you a bottle of wine and tells you to finish it.

"Max." You deadpan, "I'm here to work."

"Penelope went to bed, works over." Max shrugs, then nudges the bottle to you, "Drink it or I will and then Kelly will be mad because she still can't drink for a few months."

You blink, and laugh, pouring the rest of the bottle into your glass. You're already a bit dazed from drinking some wine earlier with dinner, so you know this'll end with you tipsy and trying to hide it.

When Max cheers when you take a sip, you roll your eyes, "Drink something too, Kel has that pregnancy mocktail mix she found online that I still think tastes like tequila."

"Oh, true." Max breezes past you to the get the little mix. It was some holistic medicine thing a friend of hers had told her helped with crazy pregnancy hormones, and Kelly agreed. He poured half of it in a glass and then topped it with ginger soda, and Kelly happily came to sit in the kitchen with you both while you finished cleaning.

They talked numbly behind you as you dried dishes and put them away, humming to yourself between intermittent sips of wine until Max decides to push it a little when he sees you're halfway down the glass.

"A kiss on the cheek is pretty close." Max says. You pause, peeking over your shoulder at him, seeing him narrow his eyes at you, "To a real kiss."

"No," Kelly nudges Max with her arm, "Pen thinks they actually kissed."

"Oh lord," you whisper, rubbing the dish a little harder and Kelly snickers. Finishing off her drink and announcing she's going off to get ready for bed. You put away the last of the dishes, downing your wine in one solid gulp in silence, before Max chimes.

"Would you date Lando?"

"Max." You turn around, looking at Max with a confused face.

He continues sharply, waving his hand, cheeks rosy from the strength of the wine, "I wouldn't mind it, if you dated him."

"Seriously?" You huff, putting the towel down a little harsher, "why are you asking this right now?"

"Because I have eyes? Everyone sees the way you two look at each other, I honestly think it's only a matter of time before one of you just says 'fuck it' and kisses the other."

You stare at Max, and he takes that as a sign to continue, "And Lando's like... the only driver I'd trust."

"Max, I'm not dating Lando." You deadpan to him, now fully turning around to face him, "Just because Penelope, and apparently everyone else thinks we have some sort of chemistry, doesn't mean I'm going to date him."

Max hums, crossing his arms before he stands, handing you his glass to pop in the dishwasher, "Why not? He's not the worst, honestly."

"Max, I just met him!" You huff in frustration, "I barely know him, I barely have spent time with him, can you just cool it?!"

Max blinks, and you groan, scrubbing your hands across your face in frustration, "And even if I wanted to, my track record for dating isn't good. I doubt it would go well, and I doubt he even likes me."

"I wouldn't second guess that last one," Max chimes, "He was the first person to jump at having you stay with him when I sent a text to all the drivers in the group chat asking if anyone had an extra room. And he wanted it so bad."

And after that, he bids you goodnight, and leaves the room. You stand in the kitchen for a long while, just staring at the spot where Max left. In the corner of the room, Penelope's mistletoe haunts you, and you feel the ghost touch of Lando's lips to your cheek again before it's gone.

Lando's in a similar predicament.

"I don't know, Ma." Lando hums, taking dishes from her arms and helping her put them away while his father helps his siblings corral the little ones and their gifts in the living room. The Norris family's bundles of energy are fussy now with exhaustion, Christmas day having been quite the adventure.

"What don't you know?" Cisca pauses, looking at her son as she hangs the towel to dry.

"I just met her, Ma. Sure, I've seen her around for two or so years, but her living with me is so new and... I wouldn't want to come off too strong."

Cisca tsks, gently squeezing Lando's arm as she passes him to dry off her hands on another towel, "You just have to ask, Lando. Which... may be easier said than done, but I'm sure knows you're a nice boy. Honestly, I still think one of the most romantic things your father did was ask me, very softly, if he could kiss me in the car on the way home."

Lando leans on the counter, shaking a hand through his curls as Cisca smiles at her son, "He was nervous, he didn't wanna seem too forthcoming--much like you. Just ask her if its okay."

"But what if it messes everything up?" Lando sighs, shaking his head as if trying to shake away the thought of giving you a kiss--because if he thinks about it any longer he might turn Ferrari red, "I wouldn't wanna make her uncomfortable."

"It won't, trust me." Cisca says, looking over her shoulder as the door lock clicks open and you step in, a bundle of gifts thrown over one arm and your purse dangling from your fingers. Se can tell the both of you are tipsy, and she smirks to herself before pushing off the counter--pausing to play music off the Google Home, before going to help her kids get packed up.

Lando snorts at you, stepping over to steady you as you try to pry your heels off. You look up at him and huff, "Does Max also shove drinks down your throat when you're with him?"

"Only now that Kelly's pregnant and the smell of liquor makes her sick," Lando hums, his hands holding onto your arm as you wiggle out of your shoes. He takes your purse and hangs it up where you always do while you go to drop the gifts from the Verstappen-Piquet's in your bedroom.

That's when Cisca appears with Adam, smiling at you, "Well, it's back to the hotel for us before the toddlers throw a tantrum and the adults get too drunk."

"Do you need me to drive you, Ma?" Lando calls from down the hall as Cisca gives you a parting hug.

"No no, I got a rideshare." She waves a hand, "It's not a huge deal, spend time cleaning up, there's quite a bit."

"I'll make sure he does," You give Cisca a soft smile, "thank you again for the gifts."

The little clump of Norris' in the hallway slowly diminished through the front door after goodbye hugs and leftover distribution. Once they're all gone, with a promise to text when they arrive safely in their hotel, you and Lando begin to tackle the cleaning process. He's working on the living room reorganization while you tackle the kitchen, and when he comes to help you after resetting the couch, the two of you are humming along to some Bill Crosby song when Lando dramatically begins to sway.

"Feel the vibes," he explains when you laugh and ask what he's doing, and through the 'vibes' you end up holding hands and jokingly swaying around the kitchen. It's clean...ish, for now, and Lando gives you a little spin for flourish.

The spin knocks you off kilter, and his hands reach out to grab your waist, steadying you and keeping you from fully slamming against the counter where he sets your back to rest. You catch yourself, one hand on the counter, one hand on Lando's shoulder. Your elbow is bent, sort of digging into his bicep as he leans forward to balance himself on the counter.

His hip bumps yours where he stands, accidentally partially between your legs, and you lift your head to nearly bump your noses. A giggle leaves your throat, and Lando's all smiles. There's a pause, as the music slows to its final swell where you think: Oh, here we go. This is it.

And then the moment is shattered as NuevaYoL blasts at full volume.

"Google!" You and Lando whip around to shout, your voices blending into laughter as you tipsily stumble over to turn off the song. As you laugh, Lando leans on your shoulder, and even if it didn't end with a kiss, his smile in that moment tells you all you need to know.

Maybe, somehow, Penelope had been right.

Lando wakes up the next morning to a headache he can only attribute to the alcohol, and the sound of Max laughing in the kitchen. He pauses, and distinguishes.

Max Fewtrell.

Groaning, he kicks the blanket off of him. Why Max and Pietra decided to come over the day after Christmas was beyond Lando's understanding. He couldn't think of anything they'd planned, so why were they here?

Then, he hears Max lament, "Lando's a pussy, you gotta push him." followed by your pretty laugh and, yep. Okay. Thats enough out of Max.

"Max!" He shouts, cringing at the pain it flairs behind his eyes as he snags a t-shirt out of his dresser and throws it on haphazardly. Shuffling on his feet, he ends up hitting the wall before managing to open the door. You're perched on the couch corner next to Pietra, who's scrolling idly through her phone, a cup of warm coffee or tea in your hands. Lando can't tell from here, but the kitchen smells like both. Pietra and Max's mugs settled on the table, along with an empty plate of food, telling him the two have been here for a while.

"Ah! Sleeping beauty!" Max cheers and you snort into your coffee, "Thought you died from alcohol poisoning."

"Shut up, you--" a yawn cuts Lando off and he scrubs his hands across his face, "I'm fine."

"You look exhausted, Lan." You say, worry tinging your tone, and Lando can't help the flutter that attacks his chest. Part of him wants to slap his chest to make it go away, but that would be more obvious.

"I'm just waking up, thats all." Lando waves a hand, but he can feel the burn in his cheeks that Max raises an eyebrow at. At that, Max stands, making his way over to drag Lando into the kitchen with some boring lament about Quadrant work. You huff a tiny laugh into your drink, again, and Lando thinks his heart skips before Max punches his shoulder blade.

"Ow?!" Lando turns around to whack Max back, and the two shove and shuffle deeper into the kitchen until Max grabs both of Lando's wrists, and whisper shouts.

"So, new roommate, and you didn't say anything?"

"I was busy."

"What were you busy with? Fucking her?"

Lando gawks, pauses, then shouts, "Max!"

"Sorry." Max pauses, hand up and the conversation drops back down to whispers, "you're the out of pocket one and I needed a turn because apparently I'm now that last to know things. I had Penelope Piquet tell me this in the line at the store."

Lando sighs, leaning against his counter and rubbing his face, "Of course it was Penelope. And I'm sorry for not telling you, I just... kind of forgot that I was hosting Christmas and luckily Yn's like the best nanny ever and fixed my whole damn apartment and saved the holidays and..."

He pauses, looking through the hall to the windows that mirror the living room where you and Pietra are curled up on the couch gossiping. She leans in to whisper something, and your head throws back in a laugh that echoes right into his heart and speeds it up.

"Oh." Max hums, "you're whipped."

"It gets worse, though," Lando sighs, "My mom did a list of Christmas activities in Monaco. We get to do the Christmas Village today. And, guess what ballet the company is putting on this year?"

"Swan Lake? The Nutcracker?" Max hums and Lando shakes his head.

"Well, one group is doing Swan Lake, but Penelope begged her mom to get me and Yn tickets to Giselle as a gift for Christmas." Lando cracks his neck, "Which, according to Oliver, is romantic. And now I have a five year old telling me I have to go or else."

"Oh, you poor thing." Max cackles, whacking Lando's chest, "it's a ballet, what could go wrong?"

Lando blinks at Max. Just about everything, he wants to say, especially when a very enthusiastic Penelope Piquet has clearly been secretly being his wingwoman.

And she will stop at nothing to see this through.

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[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗥𝗜𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗘 lando norris x girlfriend! reader ( angst, dark, psychological horror ) fic summary . . . Your world starts shifting in the smallest ways—laundry folded when you never touched it, bills paid without your input, and letters signed with a name you shouldn’t know. By the time you finally try to run, it’s too late—Lando Norris is already there, waiting, ready to remind you that you were never going to leave (2.8k words)

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

this is dark fiction contains mature themes of psychological horror, do not read if that makes you uncomfortable. you've been warned

CONTENT WARNING — ( +18 MDNI, stalking, kidnapping, dark themes, non-consensual acts, dub-con, manipulation & coercion, psychological abuse, captivity, forced dependency, obsession, possessiveness, power imbalance, fear, helplessness, dehumanization, objectification, unhealthy relationship )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The first time you noticed something was off, it was small.

A shirt, washed and neatly folded on your bed, even though you distinctly remember tossing it into the laundry hamper days ago. Then it was your bills—emails confirming they were paid, despite the fact that you hadn’t touched your banking app. Maybe you were just tired. Overworked. Forgetful.

But then the letters started coming.

They were handwritten, ink pressed deep into expensive paper, each one signed with a flourish.

You don’t need to worry about anything. I’m taking care of you.

Wear that blue dress tomorrow. I want to see you in it.

Don’t think about running. You wouldn’t get far.

The gifts appeared next. Jewelry in little velvet boxes, an expensive perfume you once mentioned liking in passing, delicate lace underwear that matched sets you had lost. Your fridge, which you never remembered restocking, was always full of your favorite foods. 

But it was the missing items that truly made your skin crawl. Panties vanishing from your drawers. The faint scent of unfamiliar cologne clinging to your sheets.

You tried to ignore it. Tried to tell yourself you were imagining things. But paranoia clung to you like a second skin, fear curling in your stomach every time you entered your apartment, never knowing what you’d find. You considered going to the police, but every letter carried an unspoken threat, a silent warning laced between the lines.

And then, one night, you decided to leave.

You packed in a hurry, throwing essentials into a duffel, your hands trembling as you zipped it shut. You didn’t care where you went—just somewhere far, far away from here.

Your fingers had barely grazed the doorknob when you yanked it open—only for it to slam shut.

A hand. Large, steady, pressing the door closed from over your shoulder.

Your breath hitched, ice crawling through your veins as you felt it—warmth radiating from behind you, a body too close, too solid, pressing into your back. The air shifted, the faintest brush of breath against your ear.

Then, the slow, arm snaking around your stomach, firmly holding you into his body to eliminate any space between you..

"You’re not going anywhere, love."

The voice was smooth, edged with something dark. You turned slowly, heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes met his for the first time.

Lando Norris.

You knew his face. Everyone did. But up close, in the dim light of your apartment, he looked different. His usual boyish charm was laced with something more sinister. Possessiveness flickered behind those stormy blue eyes, the curve of his lips almost . . . amused.

He stepped forward, leisurely closing the space between you, his fingers brushing over your cheek before you could flinch away. “You weren’t really thinking of leaving me, were you?”

Your throat felt tight. “Lando—”

“Took you long enough to say my name.” He exhaled, almost like he was relieved, before gripping your chin between his fingers. His touch was firm, not bruising, but enough to remind you of your place. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

Your stomach churned. “Please… let me go.”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, and the smile he gave you sent ice down your spine. “Now, now,” he tutted. “I’ve done everything for you. I’ve taken care of you. And this is how you repay me?”

Tears burned at the edges of your vision, but you refused to let them fall. “I never asked for any of this.”

Lando’s gaze darkened, something sharp flickering across his expression. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “But you’re mine. And I don’t like losing what’s mine.”

You swallowed hard, pulse racing as he pulled back just enough to look at you again, studying every inch of your face like he was committing it to memory.

Then, he smiled—soft, affectionate, like you weren’t his prisoner but something precious, something treasured. “Now,” he murmured, reaching for your duffel bag and tossing it aside like it meant nothing. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

The unspoken or else hung heavy in the air, suffocating you.

And for the first time, you truly understood.

There was no leaving.

There was no escape.

You don’t remember how long it’s been. Days, weeks—maybe months. Time doesn’t exist the same way in here.

Lando leaves sometimes. Not often, but just enough for you to feel the ache of his absence. The first time he left, you felt relief. A breath of air that wasn’t saturated with his presence, with the thick, suffocating feeling of his control. But then the hours stretched. The silence became deafening.

You’d never been scared of silence before.

But now, it claws at you. It reminds you how alone you are. It reminds you that if something happened—if the world outside forgot you existed—no one would come.

By the time he returned, you had curled yourself into a tight ball on the floor, your breath shallow, your body trembling. The sight of him standing in the doorway, silhouetted by dim hallway light, should have sent fresh waves of terror through you.

Instead, you exhaled.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lando murmured, closing the door behind him. He crouched down in front of you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “Did you miss me?”

You shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have felt that desperate sense of relief, like a drowning person finally breaking the surface.

But you nodded.

His smile was warm, pleased. “That’s my good girl.”

It’s easier when you don’t fight.

The resistance had lasted in the beginning. Stubbornness was stitched into your bones, refusal threaded through your veins. But it didn’t matter how hard you fought—Lando didn’t break. He waited.

Waited for you to come to your own conclusions.

Waited for you to realize that obedience meant warmth, comfort, clothing.

Disobedience meant cold tile floors, meant standing in front of him with nothing but skin, his gaze dragging over you like hands, pressing, owning.

You learned.

Your body still belonged to you, in some small way. If obedience kept his eyes softer, if listening meant he didn’t look at you like that—like something he could devour—then obedience was a small price to pay.

Lando knew it, too.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured when you handed him your empty plate after dinner, your hands shaking just slightly. “I like when you listen.”

You hated when he praised you. Hated the warmth that bloomed in your chest at his words. It wasn’t real. None of this was real.

But your brain was starting to betray you.

Somewhere, deep down, in the parts of your mind he’d sunk his claws into, you wanted to be good for him.

The apartment was too quiet when he left.

At first, it had been the silence that unsettled you. The absence of footsteps, the lack of his voice, the eerie stillness that seeped into your bones like ice water. Even though you hated him, feared him, loathed every breath he stole from your skin—when he was gone, you felt untethered.

Your fingers trembled as you hugged your knees to your chest, curling into the corner of the couch where he usually held you. The collar around your throat felt heavier when he wasn’t there to tug at it, to remind you that you belonged to him.

It had been months now. Maybe longer. Time had turned into a slow, syrupy thing, dripping through your fingers in melted memories of a life you used to have. You barely remembered the scent of your own apartment, the sound of your phone buzzing, the feeling of slipping into fresh clothes that hadn’t already been picked for you.

Because Lando did everything for you.

At first, it had been terrifying—the way he controlled every detail of your existence. He fed you, bathed you, dressed you. He decided when you slept and when you woke, when you spoke and when you stayed silent. When you were good, he rewarded you with soft touches, curling you into his lap and stroking your hair. When you disobeyed… he reminded you who you belonged to.

But something worse had started happening.

You needed him.

Not just for food, or warmth, or comfort. You needed him because when he was gone, the silence was unbearable. Your stomach clenched with hunger even though the fridge was full. Your throat tightened with thirst even though there was water. Every meal tasted like ash without his fingers pressing it to your lips.

And when he touched you—when he cupped your chin and made you look at him, when he praised you, when he let you rest your head against his chest—you felt safe.

It was sick.

It was wrong.

But it was all you had.

Lando had left again.

You told yourself you wouldn’t panic. That you wouldn’t curl into the corner like some pathetic, abandoned pet. You wanted to be alone.

Didn’t you?

Your fingers trembled as you touched the edge of the collar around your neck. The key was gone. It always was. The door was locked.

You could scream.

But who would hear?

A part of you whispered that you could do it. You could find a way out, somehow. You could fight harder. You could—

The thought shattered when the door handle twisted.

He was back.

You froze in place, every muscle seizing, every part of you bracing for the flood of emotions that came with his presence. Fear. Loathing. Relief.

Lando stepped inside, eyes immediately landing on you. His lips curled into something almost affectionate.

“Still sitting in your little corner, hmm? Right where I left you.” His voice was gentle, teasing. “You really don’t like being alone, do you?”

Your throat felt too tight to answer.

He knew.

You had fought so hard not to need him. But he had taken everything. Stripped you down to something weak, something fragile, something that only existed inside this apartment.

“I told you,” he murmured, stepping closer, crouching in front of you. “You don’t need anything else. Just me.”

He reached out, his fingers threading through your hair, brushing the strands from your face, petting you like something docile, something broken.

And you let him.

Because at this point, you were something broken.

"You think you own me?" Your voice cracked as you took a step back, fists clenched. "I’m not your pet, Lando. My soul isn’t yours."

You recoiled when he reached for you, dodging his touch like it burned.

Lando didn’t move after that.

He just stood there, watching you.

No anger. No shouting. Just a quiet, unreadable gaze. His expression was placid—too placid. The faintest curl of amusement ghosted over his lips, as if you were a child throwing a tantrum.

Slowly, he tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Undress."

The word slithered through the air like smoke, curling around your lungs, suffocating.

Your breath hitched. The weight of his command pressed down on you like cold iron, making the room feel smaller, the walls inching closer.

You shook your head—barely. Your throat was too tight to form words.

Lando exhaled through his nose, shifting his weight. "Did you not hear me?" His voice was light, almost playful. "Take your clothes off."

A chill crawled down your spine.

When you still didn’t move, he clicked his tongue. "You love testing my limits. Fine. You can handle the consequences."

The distance between you vanished in a heartbeat.

Before you could react, his fingers curled around the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion. The rush of cold air against your skin sent a violent shudder through your body. The loss of fabric was too sudden, too exposing.

Your hands trembled at your sides, nails digging into your palms. You wanted to run—to fight—but Lando didn’t allow it.

"Keep going," he murmured, voice smooth. No urgency. No cruelty. Just an expectation. Like this was nothing more than another command you were expected to obey.

Your fingers felt foreign, sluggish, as you undid the button of your pants, slipping them down your legs in stiff, jerky movements.

"Underwear too."

You clenched your jaw.

Your hands faltered, your pulse hammering in your ears. Just get it over with. Just—

"Slower."

A choked noise caught in your throat.

You obeyed.

Your hands shook as you peeled away the last layer, exposing yourself inch by inch beneath his watchful gaze.

When you hesitated, barely breathing, Lando simply held out his hand, waiting.

Waiting for you to give him your underwear.

Shame curled hot in your stomach.

His brow lifted, lips parting slightly, as if mocking your hesitation. Humiliation crawled up your throat like bile.

Your fingers twitched before you finally placed the fabric in his open palm.

Lando examined the garment briefly, then hummed, bringing it to his nose and taking a slow, deliberate breath.

"I’ll let you keep the socks," he mused. "Next time, I won’t."

A warning wrapped in false kindness.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

The worst part wasn’t the act itself.

It was everything after.

The way Lando’s eyes never truly left you.

He didn’t touch you. He didn’t need to.

You felt his gaze.

He flipped through a magazine, occasionally glancing up. Sipped his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup. Paused mid-step when walking past, his eyes dragging over you like he was memorizing every inch.

It was worse than any touch.

You wanted to disappear, to sink into the floorboards, to claw at your own skin if it meant escaping his stare.

Your arms twitched, instinctively moving to cover yourself—

You stopped.

You knew better.

He wanted you aware.

Of yourself. Of him. Of this endless, unbearable humiliation.

At some point, the shame became unbearable.

You reached for a blanket—just something, anything to dull the feeling of exposure.

A sharp tsk cut through the air.

Before you could wrap it around yourself, Lando was there, plucking it effortlessly from your fingers.

He folded it neatly over his arm. "No."

Your stomach twisted violently.

Your breath hitched as you turned away, arms wrapping around yourself as if that could shield you.

It didn’t.

Then he spoke, and it was worse than anything else.

"You’re beautiful like this."

Soft. Gentle. As if this was normal.

The words shattered whatever fragile control you had left.

A sob ripped from your throat.

You stood there, trembling, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as the tears came—silent at first, then wracking, unstoppable. Your shoulders shook, your breath hitching, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except break apart right where you stood.

Lando huffed, almost amused, before his hands found your wrists, prying them away from your body. In one smooth motion, he pulled you against his chest, his grip firm, unyielding.

He kissed your head. Rubbed slow circles against your back.

It shouldn’t comfort you.

But it did.

He told you he had to leave.

It was the last race of the season. He would be gone for days. Maybe longer.

And the moment those words left his mouth, something inside you shattered.

"No," you whispered, shaking your head. "No, you can’t—Lando, please—"

His hand reached for his suitcase, and before you could stop yourself, you lunged forward, grabbing his wrist. He turned to look at you, startled.

"Don't go," you begged, voice breaking. "Please don’t go—please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t leave me here alone—"

Lando sighed, brushing his fingers through your hair. "Sweetheart, I won’t be gone long. You’ll be fine—"

"No, I won’t!" You were sobbing now, gripping his arm like a lifeline, your body trembling so hard you could barely stay upright. "I’ll die without you, Lando—I’ll die in here, I’ll starve, I’ll—"

"You won’t starve," he said, voice calm.

"But I will," you choked out. "Not like that—but I will."

Your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the floor. Your arms wrapped around his leg, clinging to him desperately. You didn’t care how pathetic you looked. You didn’t care that he was smiling, that this was exactly what he wanted.

All you cared about was keeping him here.

"Take me with you," you whispered. "Please, Lando, please, I’ll be good, I swear, I won’t try to run, I won’t even leave the hotel room—I just—just don’t leave me here, please—"

You were pulling at him, your fingers slipping against the fabric of his pants, dragging along the tiles as he moved toward the door.

And Lando… just laughed.

It was soft, almost affectionate. His fingers tangled in your hair, stroking through the strands as you sobbed into his thigh.

"You really can’t live without me, huh?"

You shook your head frantically.

His smile was gentle as he knelt down, cupping your face in his hands. "That’s what I wanted, baby," he murmured. "I wanted you to need me."

And God, you did.

You needed him more than air.

noice notes 🔊 . . . ( its been a while since I wrote something dark. I wrote dark for Max and Charles, and now it's Lando's turn, most likely Oscar or Carlos next )

[thepitlanepress]

WHERE THE TRUTH HIDES [4] –

↳ lando norris + singer!piastri!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: look whats here!! pt threeeee !! sorry thats its lowkey messy, weirdly short and for the long wait ALSO pls ignore the spelling mistakes in some of the texts i was awfully sleep deprived when i made that 😭😭😭

⌗ :: pt1 ;; a bet not so bad ,, pt2 ;; sports car ,, pt3 ;; chaos

–

–

–

f1gossipofficial

liked by 4, 982, 640 others

f1gossipofficial y/n l/n and lando norris were caught in a compromising position at a london restaurant this weekend. is lando norris' bachelor era coming to an end?

view all comments

user1 WAR IS OVERRRRRRR

user2 im free im finally able to be happy again.

user3 a little weird that the paparazzi followed them into the restaurant

user4 when does the paparazzi ever respect boundaries tho

user5 how does oscar feel about this?

oscarpiastri not good.

user6 LMAOOO 😭😭 GWS

user6 they should've been the ones to announce it tho not some asshole stalker

user7 fr its another relationship foiled bc of a possible headline

–

–

ynofficial

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lnfour, charles_leclerc, and 9, 482, 698 others

ynofficial well since its out now... its me and MY dork against the world ❤️❤️

tagged: landonorris

view all comments

landonorris malfunctioning i can be honry on main now

oscarpiastri no you can not.

mclaren YOU CAN NOT????

user1 did u win at least in the karting?

ynofficial i did hehe 🤭🤭

landonorris shut up only because i let you

user2 never going to forgive the paparazzi for leaking this before they got to announce it

user3 lando is now entering his bf era and i am HERE FOR IT

oscarpiastri i just threw up a little

ynofficial oopsie daisies

–

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lnfour, charles_leclerc, ynofficial and 10, 649, 258 others

landonorris me and MY dork against the world ❤️❤️ i love you so much you freakshow <3

tagged: ynofficial

view all comments

user1 its the moment i've been waiting forr eeeeeeekk

user2 wait what??? when did this happen???

user3 are you new here?? its literally all we've been talking about for WEEKS

ynofficial love youuuuu

landonorris love you more ❤️

oscarpiastri i hate you both

user4 poor oscar is going to have to deal with their nonsense now 😭😭

user5 lando only posting them is my new fave thing.

user6 literally watch this lnfour and his jpg account turn into y/n fan accounts now

user7 i can feel the fan edits coming on

–

ynofficial

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, landonorris, oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and 12, 499, 674 others

ynofficial so i lied.... so close to what is out now oop-

i literally cannot express how excited i am to share this with you all !!!! its been my pet project over the last few years and possibly one of my fave albums ive ever written 🤭🤭🤭.

and before you start rumours.... some of them are about lando (the happy ones)

bye noww you'll never see me again....

view all comments

user1 DROPPING THIS RANDOMLY EXCUSE ME??? WHYYYY I WASNT READY

user2 im not okay rn

landonorris i should be the muse for all of your songs from now on

user3 im on the floor wtf is history of man y/n OH MY GOD 😭😭😭😭

user4 it is NOT about lando i refuse

oscarpiastri proud of you!! half the songs scarred me

ynofficial mwah osc !! we dont talk about those songs...

user5 fave album ever

user6 literally when are the tour tickets coming out?

user7 let her finish the one shes on now??? 😭😭😭😭

user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERINGGGG

user9 WDYM NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN???

–

[ five weeks later there has been radio silence ]

lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lnfour, ynofficial, and 7, 484, 922 others

lando.jpg vacation timeee !!! shes so shdgsajds

view all comments

user1 lando this after five weeks of nothing on any of your accounts is diabolical

user2 sigh we're getting fed today...

user3 i love them omg omg omg

landonorris im actually a photographer.

ynofficial u did well baby

user4 SMASH OH MY GOD MOTHERRRRR

landonorris shes mine nuh uh

–

an: i ran out of image space 😭😭

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt, @stilesks, @prudyhoo, @cherry-piee,

@aeplandos, @kodeelynn, @ellelabelle, @widow-cevans, @freyathehuntress

@landossainz, @screamingwines,

[ if you would like to be added or removed let me know! ]

[loveln4]

PART 1 , PART 2

tags: @adoredeanna @f1fantasys

LANDO NORRIS x GIRLFRIEND!READER

The whole facade

Seemed to fall apart, it's complicated

- Gracie Abrams, I know it won’t work

synopsis: Y/n comes back to the apartment after she had left to cool off. Lando wasn’t there, thankfully and she thought she could at least clean up the mess he left. But what happens when Lando comes back with a guest?

warnings: vulgar language, guilt, cheating, sexual scenes.

She walked into the large apartment hoping that he was gone. Fortunately, he was. The place was a mess from the last time she was in there, which was only four hours ago.

Y/n had told him that she’d be back in an hour or two but was then caught up with a meeting with her employees. As she entered the bedroom, she was met by a waft of cologne, Lando’s scent filling her senses. It broke her to see the room an absolute mess. What did he do?

She pulled her duffel bag from the top shelf of her closet and started shoving clothes inside. She didn’t even look at what she placing in there, she wanted to be out of there as soon as she could.

The duffle bag was full and heavy when she was done shoving all her belongings into it, needing to grab a second one that was hiding beneath Lando’s clothes.

She ran around the bedroom, picking up things of her’s that were flung onto the wooden floor. Y/n felt a sharp pain beneath her toe, lifting her foot up slightly revealing a shard of glass.

“Fuck me.” She cursed harshly. Y/n plucked the large piece out, “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” She hopped across the room, her blood dripping on the hardwood floor. By the large window a picture frame that was originally perched upon her bedside table was cracked, the photo still intact.

This view in front of her broke her. The photograph displayed Lando and Y/n at the beach, both of their hairs salty, skin bronzed by the hot sun.

She picked the frame up and slipped the photo out, placing it in the back of her jeans. Y/n looked around the bedroom where they had once made love, but all she could see was hatred, anger.

Y/n decided to clean the bedroom up. Picking up shards of glass, vacuuming the floors, wiping the blood off the floor, and making the bed.

When she looked at her phone again, the time read: 7:23 PM. Three hours passed as she was cleaning the mess Lando had left. She just finished folding the throw blanket, placing it on the edge of the couch when fatigue hit her. She hadn’t eaten since eight in the morning and the meal she ate was thrown up after pictures of Lando were sent to her.

Y/n walked into the large kitchen, opening the fridge and scouring for food. A small container of tomato soup she cooked two nights ago gained her attention. She placed it in the microwave while she prepared a grill cheese sandwich to pair with the soup.

She placed herself on the couch, food in hand. She was scrolling on the tv, looking for something to watch, taking large bites of the grilled cheese sandwich was when she could feel tiredness taking over her body.

Y/n quickly finishing up her food, sitting back watching the documentary she had put on when she suddenly fell asleep on the comfy couch.

Lando was left frustrated as Y/n walked out on him. As soon as she walked out those doors he was filled with guilt. He instantly started throwing stuff. Anything he could find, it didn’t matter if it was his or hers, it was going to end up broken on the floor.

He had broken down on the floor as he looked at the mess in front of him. The photograph of them together, hand swung around her waist, her smile big, eyes crinkled as the sun was far too bright for her to open them fully.

They were happy, healthy. But this was before Mclaren started to overwork him.

His phone had started ringing under the beds covers. He dug through them, finally finding it and answering the call from his boss, Zak.

“Lando, we need you at the MTC,” He said in a rush. “We’ve got a lot more testing before the end of the break and we’ve got to talk to PR, got it?” Zak sighed loudly over the phone, “If you break up with your girlfriend you have to tell us before doing so.”

“Yeah, sorry mate.” He replied as steady as he could, his breath shaky from his breakdown that had occurred a few minutes ago.

“Just get here as soon as you can, okay?”

Lando hung up and started to get ready. He walked over the objects on the floor toward his closet. The closet he shared with Y/n.

All of her stuff was still in there. Her colourful dresses and her worn out jeans folded neatly on her side of the walk-in-wardrobe. Her floral, vanilla and musky sweet perfumes were lined up perfectly, untouched. He hoped it would stay that way.

He sprayed his cologne on after changing into a simple outfit; jeans and a sweater. Lando grabbed his keys and headed out, the kitchen and living room just as messy as their bedroom.

Lando was in such a daze he didn’t realize he had torn up every room in the apartment. But he left anyways, leaving the apartment, wishing that she’ll be there when he comes back.

The meeting with Zak and the PR team ran longer than expected. Lando told them that he didn’t know where Y/n and himself stood after she had found out about the pictures posted.

Zak, being the loudest man in the world had said, “If she doesn’t leave you, she’ll never be happy.” Was he lying?

This sparked a rage in Lando. He was angry, needed to blow off steam, but where?

Lando drove to his best friends house. Max Fewtrell was shocked as Lando waltzed into his closet and started grabbing a dress shirt, slipping it on with ease.

“The fuck are you doing?” Max followed him into his bedroom, “Hey!”

Lando couldn’t hear his best friend. He was torn. He has been torn. Lando didn’t know who he was anymore.

“Max, what’s—Lando, what the fuck?” Max’s girlfriend walked in as Lando was exiting, pushing past her and down the stairs. “Max.” She warned her boyfriend.

Max had ran down after him, “Lando!” He grabbed him, “Hey, man.” A slight smell of alcohol lingered in Lando’s breath, “Have you been drinking.”

“Maybe.”

And with that, Lando walked out of the house and drove to the club he was at last night.

Lando’s hand grasped her thighs, needing her all to himself, though this action made him feel sick.

Opening the door with one hand and pushing her into the apartment, he paused and looked around, hands leaving the girls body.

The house was clean. He knew y/n couldn’t live in a dirty environment. She had been there.

“What is it Lando?” The girl asked him innocently, biting her lip and running her hands down his front.

“Nothing.” He responded coldly, his jaw clenched as he could smell her familiar scent.

Y/n woke up with a startle. Looking up from her curled position on the couch, Lando and his mistress were both staring at her.

“Fuck, Lando.” She whispered as she immediately stood up, “Fuck you.” She bit as she grabbed her two duffle bags and walked past them both.

She grabbed her keys from her duffle bag pocket. She had finally found them underneath the bed as she was vacuuming glass shards.

After packing her bags into the back of her car she sat in silence. The garage was dark and empty.

She broke down. Earlier, when she had first seen the photos, she was angry. Y/n was crying because she was mad at herself that she didn’t see the signs earlier, that she didn’t communicate with him sooner.

Now, she was crying because she just lost who she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with.

She truly loved him.

Maybe too much as she still wanted him after the sight she saw upstairs.

A/N: i wasn’t planning on making a part 2 but people requested it. enjoy..? you probably won’t because i don’t want yall to have a happy ending 😼

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[wroetolando]

𝙰𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 | 𝙻𝙽𝟺

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where lando grows from a childhood friend to a famous f1 driver

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: 7 years - lukas graham

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: short mention of grief and loss

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Seven Years Old

“Once I was seven years old, my mama told me, go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely.”

The first time you met Lando Norris, he was covered in dirt.

He had just fallen off his bike—again—but instead of crying, he simply picked himself up, brushing off his scraped knees. You, always the quiet observer, reached into your pocket and pulled out a band-aid, sticking it onto his leg without a word.

Lando blinked at you, then grinned, showing off a missing tooth. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You shrugged, your eyes still averted, focused on your hands as you fiddled with the end of the band-aid.

“That’s okay,” he said, grinning even wider. “You’re my best friend now.”

You didn’t argue.

Lando wasn’t like the other kids in your neighborhood. He wasn’t loud or brash, but he was relentless, always in motion, constantly seeking something. His energy was contagious, and even though you preferred the quiet of your own thoughts, something about him drew you in.

Every afternoon, Lando would knock on your door, bike helmet in hand, asking if you wanted to join him for another adventure. You would always go, and before you knew it, you were inseparable.

He wasn’t just a friend; he was your constant.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Eleven Years Old

“I only see my goals, I don’t believe in failure, ’cause I know the smallest voices they can make it major.”

By eleven, Lando had made up his mind—he was going to be a race car driver.

“I’ll be in F1 one day,” he told you confidently, his hands gripping the handlebars of his bike like it was a steering wheel.

You kicked a rock near your feet. “And what if you don’t?”

He gasped dramatically, as if you had just insulted his entire existence. “How dare you?”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “I’m just saying, it’s not easy.”

“I don’t care,” he huffed. “I’m going to make it. You’ll see.”

You rolled your eyes but could see the fire in his eyes. He wasn’t joking. He was determined. And you admired him for it.

But deep down, a part of you feared what would happen when he actually made it.

You were happy in your own world, grounded in the simplicity of home and friends. But Lando? He was destined for bigger things. You could see it, even then.

Would he forget you when he was famous? Would the friendship fade like so many others? Or would it remain—unbreakable and constant, just like it had always been?

But Lando was steadfast, and every time you had those thoughts, he would look at you and reassure you with a simple, “I’m not going anywhere.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Eighteen Years Old

“I always had that dream like my daddy before me, so I started writing songs, I started writing stories.”

Lando made it to Formula 1 at eighteen.

You were sitting on your couch, watching him line up on the grid for his debut race. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and your heart pounded harder with every passing second. You could almost feel the rush of the engine in your chest, like a heartbeat.

Lando was about to live his dream, something he had worked for his whole life.

And you? You were still here. Back home. The quiet life you had grown accustomed to.

It should have been enough—seeing him succeed, watching him become the person he had always wanted to be.

But there was a quiet ache in your chest. The boy who had been your best friend was now racing among the best in the world. And you had to admit, part of you didn’t know where you fit into his new world.

He had made it. You were still trying to figure things out.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Twenty Years Old

“Once I was twenty years old my story got told, before the morning sun when life was lonely.”

Lando was famous now. Everyone knew his name, his face, his victories.

But despite the cameras and the flashing lights, despite the fans screaming for him, he called you late at night—just like always.

“I miss you,” he admitted one evening, his voice quieter than usual.

You swallowed hard. “You’re the one who left.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

He was still your Lando—the same boy who had scraped his knees and promised you forever. But now he was racing in F1, the world at his feet.

There were moments when it felt like you were living in two completely different worlds. His was filled with fame and endless opportunities, while yours was stuck in place. The feelings of longing were difficult to ignore.

Silence stretched between you.

Then, in a move that surprised even himself, Lando showed up at your door the next day.

When you opened it, he was standing there—hood pulled over his head, hands buried in his pockets, eyes tired but searching.

“I don’t want to do this without you,” he confessed. “I don’t care how crazy my life gets. I just… I need you in it.”

Your breath hitched.

And before you could stop yourself, you reached for him, pulling him inside—pulling him home.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Twenty-Three Years Old

“I got my boys with me, at least those in favor, and if we don’t meet before I leave I hope I’ll see you later.”

The Formula 1 world was now Lando’s world.

Carlos, Daniel, Oscar, and Max were his teammates, his competitors, his family. They were a constant presence in his life, and the camaraderie they shared made the loneliness of the race track feel a little less heavy.

But even then, there were moments when you could see the fatigue in his eyes—moments when he would glance at you, like he needed to ground himself again.

It was after one particularly difficult race that he showed up at your door.

The night was quiet, the usual noise of race cars and city streets a distant hum. But there he stood, knocking softly on your door, his hoodie pulled over his head, his eyes tired.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping into your home as if it was the only place he could truly breathe.

You didn’t ask any questions, didn’t push for an explanation. You just opened your arms and let him in.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” he confessed as he sat on the couch, his head resting against the back of it.

You sat beside him, placing your hand on his. “You’re doing your best.”

“But it’s not enough,” he murmured.

“You’re enough.”

It wasn’t just about racing. It was about the uncertainty, the weight of always having to be something more, and sometimes feeling like he was losing himself in the process.

But you were there, as you had always been. And that was what mattered most.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Twenty-Five Years Old

“Soon we’ll be 30 years old, our songs have been sold, we’ve traveled around the world and we’re still roaming.”

Lando proposed to you in Monaco.

It wasn’t some extravagant gesture—no cameras, no grand speeches. Just the two of you, standing on a quiet balcony overlooking the harbor, the city lights reflecting in his eyes.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he told you, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care where life takes me. As long as you’re there, that’s enough.”

Your heart pounded as he dropped to one knee, a small velvet box in his hands.

“So… will you marry me?”

You laughed, already crying as you nodded. “Almost, always.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he slid the ring onto your finger.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Thirty Years Old

“My woman brought children for me, so I can sing them all my songs and I can tell them stories”

Life had changed.

You were married now, your last name matching his. The walls of your home were filled with laughter—tiny footsteps running through hallways, giggles echoing in the rooms.

Lando was still racing, still chasing podiums, still traveling the world. But now, he always had something to come home to.

Your kids—his greatest trophies.

“My boys are still with me,” he mused one night, watching a race replay with his son on his lap. “Carlos, Oscar, Max… They’re still out there, still fighting for glory.”

His voice turned softer.

“And Daniel?” you asked, knowing exactly where his mind had wandered.

Lando swallowed hard, eyes distant. There was a hint of sadness in his smile, a flicker of a memory.

“Some I had to leave behind.”

Daniel had been Lando’s closest friend for years. But life had a way of taking people in different directions. Daniel’s departure from F1 had hit hard, and Lando’s emotions were still raw, even after all these years.

He was grateful for the memories, the times they had shared. But the empty space left by Daniel’s absence was undeniable.

The silence that followed was heavy, but you didn’t press him. You simply nestled closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

Some people, no matter how much you love them, aren’t meant to stay forever.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Sixty Years Old

“Soon I’ll be sixty years old, will I think the world is cold, or will I have a lot of children who can warm me?”

Lando was retired now. His body had slowed, his hair had silvered, but his heart—his heart was still the same.

Your children were grown, building lives of their own. The house was quieter, but it was never empty.

Yet, as sixty-one loomed closer, Lando grew restless.

“I don’t want to go yet,” he admitted one evening, sitting beside you on the porch. “My dad was sixty-one when he passed. What if…”

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “You’re not him, Lando.”

He exhaled shakily. “I’m scared.”

You turned to him, pressing a kiss to his weathered knuckles. “You have nothing to be scared of,” you whispered. “You’ve lived. You’ve loved. And no matter what happens next… you’re not alone.”

Lando looked at you then, his blue eyes still filled with the same love they held when he was seven years old.

“Almost, always?” he murmured.

You smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Always.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist