#lando norris x you

[no-144444]

the grid: can you fight?

꩜ featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, George Russell, Kimi Antonelli, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Max Verstappen, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Ollie Bearman, Jack Doohan, Franco Colapinto, & Paul Aron

꩜ banner creds: bronzewasp

Oscar Piastri: nonchalant 

McLaren media days were usually long and boring, and today was no different. Thankfully, they were on the last video, reading thirst tweets? Whatever that meant. Oscar had an ipad open in front of him, and he scrolled past a tweet that read ‘face card is insane’, not really understanding what the meant, but thanking the poster anyway. The next tweet was a picture of you, and a caption, ‘can you fight @.oscarpiastri ?’. Beside the photo of you, was a particularly terrible photo of himself. He stopped, lingering on your photo. It was a photo he knew well, the photo he keeps in his wallet. You, looking like a fucking goddess in a photobooth. Him, looking like a twat. He laughed (probably too hard), and Lando joined in. 

“So this one is a photo of my fiancé, and says ‘can you fight?’,” he explained. “I’d like to think I could hold my own, especially for Y/n,” he chuckled, Lando dying of laughter beside him. “But I probably couldn’t take on all of her fans.” 

“Mate,” Lando wheezed. “You look possessed!”

“I wasn’t, I was just arguing,” he chuckled. Lando’s laughter was becoming offensive now. “I don’t look that bad!”

“Sure mate, sure,” he giggled, wiping his tears away. 

Lando Norris: Crazy town! 

He was busy scrolling on instagram, post after post of you coming up on his feed. He was not complaining. You looked so hot in every single edit, every picture, everyone agreed too. He felt his ego grow. He’d bagged you. He’d convinced you to go out with him. Holy shit. 

One caption caught his eyes though. ‘@landonorris, can you fight?’. He frowned. Obviously. Of course he could fight. Of course he would fight. You were his girlfriend. 

He did what he did best, and commented. Probably wasn’t the best idea since Zak called him maybe 10 minutes later. 

Oops!

What was the comment, you may ask?

landonorris I can fight and fuck, why do you think she stays with me?

George Russell: actually couldn't care less 

“Can you fight George Russell?” he repeated, reading the caption of the edit. The Mercedes media team giggled behind the camera as Kimi clapped a hand on his shoulder, laughing a little too hard. “I’d hope so, considering this many people want to steal my girlfriend from me,” he chuckled. “Blimey!” he stared at the photo in front of him. It was one of his favourites, one that he’d taken. One where you’d kissed him after he took it, so happy with his work. “I know she’s beautiful, but she is my girlfriend, and the internet should remember that.” 

“Maybe you need to post her more,” Kimi shrugged. 

George rolled his eyes. “Are we really getting to the stage where Kimi is giving me social media advice? What’s he going to do next, take over my instagram for a day?”

“That’s a good idea,” he heard the social media manager mumble. He face-palmed. 

“Anyway, back to the problem at hand,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, I can fight.” 

“No you can’t!” Lando cackled from nearby. 

George just stared at the camera as everyone else laughed.

Kimi Antonelli: logical 

“Can I fight?” he read out the caption of a fan edit of you. He giggled nervously. “Why would I need to? We’re already together.” 

“It’s just something people say online,” George chuckled. “People ask me the same all the time.”

“Well, this person doesn’t even know her, right? How would they think she’d pick them over me?” 

George was laughing now, amused by how literally Kimi was taking this. “Mate, it’s a joke.”

“Well, they posted it!” Kimi argued back. “Clearly they meant something!”

George actually couldn’t respond. He was laughing too much.  “My gosh,” he tutted, scrolling past the post. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Alex Albon: secure 

“‘Can I fight?’, yes, and I will,” his voice was sharp and Carlos giggled beside him. “Y/n is my girlfriend. She wouldn’t choose you anyway, but if we must fight, yes, I would win. Next!” he sassed as he scrolled to the next post. It was another one of you and him, ‘how did he do it?’. He rolled his eyes. “My irresistible charm and handsome face,” he deadpanned to the camera and Carlos was busy dying of laughter beside him. “Next,” he scrolled again, and it was a picture of you and Alex after he proposed to you, ‘if he ever proposed to me in b-board shorts (!!!) and a linen shirt, he’s getting a no’, and he stared at the camera. “Are you fucking joking? What is wrong with that outfit?!” he demanded, as the entire media team doubled over with laughter, Carlos almost falling out of his chair. “People online are too nit-picky these days,” he shook his head.

Carlos Sainz: pisses him off lmao

He rolled his eyes as yet another thirst edit of you with an insanely graphic caption appeared on his tiktok. “Fuck’s sake,” he cursed. Your ears perked up and you started to rub his back again. 

“Alright?” you asked, eyes still on your computer, glued to whatever film you were both meant to be watching, but he’d turned over the look at his phone instead. You hadn’t seemed to mind. 

“Why do all of your fans and mine want to fight me?” he groaned, stretching his arms above his head as he turned around, burying his face in your neck. “Fucking stupid.” 

You giggled. “Not my fault I’m sexy.” 

“All your fault you’re sexy,” he said, muffled by your hoodie. His hand ventured up your hoodie, not uncommon, so you didn’t say anything. “We should release a sex tape or something-”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” you squealed, shoving his hand out from under your top. “Do you want my career to be over?!” 

He shrugged. “People could see just how much you want me,” he moved closer somehow, as you stared back at him, dumbfounded, jaw dropped. He chuckled. “That’s usually how you look when you-”

“Shut up Carlos!

Daniel Riccardo: smug bastard! 

“‘Can you fight?’, yes, but I don’t need to,” he laughed, his smile bright and smug. The photo in front of him was one of you at an Enchanté event, taking pictures with fans. You looked radiant. If only the public knew he took you home and fucked you on the counter the second you tow got in the door. 

“You don’t need to?” Max spurred him on. 

“Nope,” he proudly shook his head. “I’ve got some photos on my phone-”

“Enough!” their media manager shouted, cutting him off. “Stop talking!”

Both of them burst into laughter, doubling over. When they finally calmed down, Daniel winked at the camera. “Don’t worry, I’d never show them.”

Liam Lawson: out of his league

“Yes, I can fight,” he rolled his eyes, scrolling past it, only to be met with another one. You in various posts he’d made, photos he’d taken, days he remembered. He adored you, it was clear to anyone. You were the majority of his insta feed. “I know she’s gorgeous-”

“And out of your league,” Yuki added, smirking. 

Liam’s jaw dropped. “Fuck off!” he laughed. “She is not-! Ok, maybe yeah she is, but come on man,” he chuckled. “Give me a break!” 

“Mate, I’m just being truthful,” he shrugged. “She’s totally out of your league.”

Liam scoffed. “I know! But we don’t have to point it out!”

“I mean, we can though,” Yuki laughed. “We could also mention the fact that she asked you out, and not the other way around.”

“Well I was hardly going to ask her out, she’s out of my league!”

Max Verstappen: annoying

“Why do your fans want to fight me?”he scoffed, throwing his phone down on the bed, between you two. He turned to look at you, and you continued reading. He rolled his eyes and pulled the book out of your hands, much to your dismay. He bookmarked it and placed it on his bedside table, then turned back to you. You were scowling at him. 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Why do your fans want to fight me?” he asked again, his hands reaching for you. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you scoffed. “Give me back my book Max.”

“Come here,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs intertwining with his. He pressed his lips to yours, gently, and you melted into him. He loved this, the gentle and slow nights he got with you. Enjoying the silence you gave each other. He pulled back, a smug smile on his lips. “Your fans couldn’t do that.”

You rolled your eyes and reached behind his head, grabbing your book back. “I’d let anyone do that if it meant they wouldn’t steal my book,” you shot back, turning the other way from him. He chuckled and squeezed your ass. 

“Brat,” he smirked. 

You flipped him off in return, but he knew you were smiling. 

Charles LeClerc: so pathetic it’s insane

“I will not fight!” he announced, startling Lewis beside him. They were just meant to be replying to thirst tweets, but he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. He turned his head up to the camera, completely serious. “She chose me! She doesn’t want any of you!”

Lewis started laughing beside him, the hilarity of it all getting to him. 

“She’s my wife! Look!” he held up his ring finger with the golden wedding band you’d placed just mere months ago. He hadn’t taken it off yet. “She loves me!” 

“I think they get it mate,” Lewis chuckled. 

“They better,” he scoffed. “Right, onto the next one!”

Lewis Hamilton: lowkey freaky (actually just sassy!)

“Lewis, can you fight?!” one of the fans cheered from the side of the carpet. He rolled his eyes as you laughed, waving at the fan before starting to walk over there. Not on his watch. He pulled you back by his hand on your wrist and smirked. The crowd roared at the interaction between the two of you. 

“You’re not going over there,” he murmured. 

“I have to see what he’s offering,” you teased, your voice low so as to not be picked up by the hundreds of cameras pointed at the two of you. “Maybe it’s better-”

“Nothing is better than us,” his grip on your waist tightened. “Need me to remind you?”

“You’re talking a lot of game, old man,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Don’t forget your abilities now.” 

He scoffed in your face, his jaw dropping. “Bitch,” he sassed, making you laugh. “Don’t piss me off.”

You acquiesced, kissing his lips before taking his hand and leading him further up the carpet. 

Ollie Bearman: used to it 

“Can you fi-” he cut himself off, scrolling on. “We’re not doing that.” 

“It’s a genuine question Ollie,” Kimi nudged him. Their first interview together since they moved to F1 was meant to be about tweets on Bearelli, but it had quickly sent them down a rabbit-hole of their own girlfriends. 

“Shut up mate,” he scoffed, scrolling again and only finding more and more questions on whether or not he could keep you. Kimi just kept laughing. “You won’t be laughing in a minute when these are about you.” 

Jack Doohan: embarrassed 

Jack had learnt that Pierre was the kind of guy to keep a joke going, but he never thought it’d get this far. They had been looking at thirst tweets, and one of you had come up, asking if Jack could fight, but he’d gone bright red the second your name was mentioned. Pierre cackled beside him as he held his head in his hands, wishing for the world to swallow him up. Come race day, Pierre had hidden print-outs of the tweet all over the Alpine garage. 

“J, why is this on your wall?” you questioned as you held up one of the print-outs. 

He went bright red. Again. 

Franco Colapinto: (shockingly) normal

“So Franco, since you and your girlfriend Y/n have gone public with your relationship, many people on the internet have one question, can you fight?” the host chuckled. 

“Can I fight? Yes, yes I can fight. I don’t need to though, my girlfriend loves me,” he laughed, looking to you. You were so embarrassed, I mean, head-in-hands embarrassed. He continued on, never stopping to think about what he was saying. “No, but I do understand, my Y/n is very beautiful, and I am very lucky. I love her very much. Anyway, most people couldn’t handle her, if you get what I mean.” 

“Well said,” the host laughed, trying to continue with some sort of professionalism. “Got some brownie points there.” 

“Hopefully,” Franco winked at you, as you stood behind the camera, shocked by his statement.

Paul Aron: sassy queen! 

“‘Can I fight’? Have you seen me?” he flexed his arm up, showing off his (huge) arms, as you laughed beside him. He shook his head. “Silly, silly people,” he tutted. “It is a nice photo though, you look very beautiful,” he turned to you. 

“Thanks baby,” you murmured back, scrolling on and only seeing more calls for Paul to step aside and let others in. 

He stared the camera down as you were distracted and mouthed ‘she’s mine’ to the many viewers.

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

mclaren masterlist (OP81 &LN4)

ferrari masterlist (CL16, LH44 & AL65 )

williams & mercedes masterlist (GR63, KA12, CS55 LS2 &AA23)

redbull & vcarb masterlist (MV1, DR3 & LL40)

alpine masterlist (JD7, PA17, FC43)

[binisainz]

spf and other soft confessions ⸻ 𐙚 ⸻  lando norris x reader .

word  count.   0.8k feat.   fluff,  established  relationship,  roundabout  ways  of  saying  i  love  you author's  note.   sue  me  ,  i  saw  that  one  video  at  the  fan  stage  where  lando  says  he  should've  used  sunscreen  and  six  hours  later  i  come  out  with  this.  i  write  so  much  for  lando  i  fear  i'm  having  fun  here  ln4  nation  !!!  anyway  ,  as  per  usual  ,  in  my  head  ,  all  my  lando  fics  take  place  in  the  does  this  feeling  go  both  ways?  universe  .  u  don't  have  to  do  that  ⸻  this  oneshot  works  great  as  a  standalone  as  well  !!

lando’s already halfway to burnt.

( you had warned him, too — warned him before you even left the hotel, tossing the bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag with the kind of deliberate, pointed eye contact that said don’t make me use this like a weapon.

he had kissed your cheek and said i’ll be fine, all boyish grin and charm, which in lando-speak translated directly to i will absolutely forget to apply anything and you’ll have to fix it later. )

and now here you are, on a sun-warmed patch of sand in some overpriced corner of the world, watching lando on his back with his arms flung out dramatically as if he’s trying to make a snow angel out of sand — a sand angel? whatever. his curls are damp with seawater, his chest is rising slow and easy, his cheeks are already flushed pink, and your heart is doing that dumb thing where it softens like butter left out in july.

you sit beside him, cross-legged, bottle in hand, and when you pop the cap open with a quiet click, he cracks one eye open, squinting at you like you’ve just interrupted a very important dream.

“baby…” he mumbles, voice warm and slow, “m’comfy.”

“you’re also halfway to lobster,” you reply, squirting sunscreen into your palm. “arms up.”

he groans but obeys, stretching like a cat, and you roll your eyes even as you bite down a smile. you smooth the lotion over his chest first— slow, gentle strokes, fingertips gliding over sun-warmed skin and the moles scattered across his collarbone.

“this is so domestic,” he says, voice muffled by the crook of his elbow.

you laugh. “this is basic skincare, lan.”

“feels like love.”

your hands still for a second, just a beat. just long enough for your chest to catch up to your ears, which have gone suspiciously hot. it’s as if your body knew before your brain did, as if it heard something you weren’t ready to admit you needed to hear out loud.

he says it so lightly, too, barely a murmur, and you — stupid, sun-dazed, deeply down bad — you don’t know what to do with it, not really. because things are still new. technically, you’ve only been officially dating a few weeks, right at the start of the season’s summer break.

and yeah, okay, you said a thing in february. a Very Big Thing. you told him, voice cracking and hands shaking, that you’d been in love with him the whole time. and then you kicked him out of you flat and you stopped talking for a few months which is — really, not your best work. but you haven’t said it again. not really. not in a way that could be folded neatly into the space between a joke and a compliment. not in the daylight, not like this.

you keep moving. not because you want to brush it off, but because your brain is already spiraling in seventeen directions, trying to see if he meant it or if it was just a stupid, heat-drenched thing to say while he’s shirtless and floppy and getting doted on by the girl he maybe, probably loves.

“don’t forget my shoulders,” he adds, teasing, tilting his head toward you, eyes still closed. “those are premium. top-tier shoulder real estate.”

you snort but oblige, running your hands over the curves of them, thumbs dipping lightly into the groove where muscle meets neck.

he exhales. soft, content. “this is the dream,” he mumbles, eyes still closed, voice drifting. “you, sun, sea, you rubbing sunscreen into my chest like i’m a greek god.”

you roll your eyes, but your chest aches in that dumb, ridiculous way that means you love him and it’s all too much. “greek gods probably weren’t this annoying.”

“'m not annoying,” he says. “just emotionally attuned to physical affection.”

you roll your eyes, lean down, press a kiss to his forehead. “you’re gonna be emotionally attuned to SPF 50 in a second.” you say as a comeback, almost childishly, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

he grins anyway, still sun-drunk, still basking in it — not just the warmth above, but you, too. like you’re sunlight in its purest form, like you’re something he wants to get drunk off of again and again.

you finish rubbing in the last bit, then sit back on your heels, wiping the excess sunscreen on your thighs — you can never be too safe out in the sun!

he peeks one eye open again, smile slow and soft. “thanks, baby.” he says.

you lean over, kiss the tip of his nose, and try to ignore the quiet thrum of your chest. feels like love.

“first and last time i’m doing this, by the way.” you warn, but there isn’t a hint of anything serious in your voice.

and, okay, maybe it’s stupid, how sweet this is. how easy. how much you feel for him over something so small. but maybe that’s the point, like how some kinds of love arrive like lightning — others just look a lot like sunscreen.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Just a Picture | LN4

⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° summary ━━━━━━━ After four days of silence, Y/N was drowning in heartbreak, replaying the fight that started it all—a photo of Lando in a club, looking far too close to another girl. It triggered every insecurity she'd tried to bury, and when she confronted him, things spiraled—accusations, shouting, even a panicked flinch that neither of them could forget. Then he showed up at her apartment, looking just as wrecked as she felt, desperate to explain, desperate not to lose her. 

⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° word count ━━━━━━━ 10k

⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f and m receiving), creampie?, slow sex, lots of 'I love you's

⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° author's note ━━━━━━━ I guess this can be part 2 to The One He Couldn't Let Go if you squint a bit.

Based on this request.

It was late afternoon. Y/N was in her apartment, the dark clouds outside mirroring the storm brewing in her thoughts. She paced across the polished hardwood floor, arms folded tightly over her chest, her posture radiating tension. The living area—modern décor, a minimalist gray couch, glass coffee table, and tall bookshelves filled with novels—felt both too big and too small all at once.

Her phone lay face-down on the dining table, silent for the past three days. Not a single call from him since that explosive argument. She glanced at it again, half-hoping it would light up, but it remained still. She bit her lower lip, trying not to let the swirl of angst devour her. The image from that damned photo online had replayed in her head non-stop. Just a random snapshot—but enough to trigger months of tension that had been quietly building between them.

A year ago, when she first met Lando, she had never imagined she could be standing in this place—both physically, in her apartment, and emotionally, consumed by heartbreak so intense that it threatened to break her from the inside. And yet, she remembered how it all started. He had breezed into her life, courtesy of a mutual friend, with that mischievous grin and those unexpectedly soft, bright eyes that seemed to look right through her. At first, she’d tried to keep her distance. He was a playboy, or so all the rumors said. She had read the articles, seen the gossip, heard the stories from random acquaintances who claimed they knew him. She doubted he was the type to stay faithful. She doubted he was the type to take relationships seriously, given all that she’d heard about his partying, about the way he used to message random girls on Instagram. It was the exact opposite of everything she wanted or needed.

Yet he had pursued her relentlessly. Flowers would show up at her apartment every week—delicate bouquets of roses, peonies, lilies. Expensive gifts, random text messages in the middle of the day just to say he was thinking of her. He found out about her favorite authors and sent her limited-edition books. He discovered her love for certain designer bags and surprised her with them, even though she told him a hundred times that she didn’t want him to waste money on her. She had tried to play hard to get; she had shut him down over and over, telling him that she wasn’t convinced, that he’d break her heart. She had tried to remind herself that once upon a time he had been in a relationship, still rumored to be cheating, going to clubs, and partying with random women. All the gossip. All the pictures. She didn’t want that kind of heartbreak. She believed he would revert to his old ways at any moment.

But then, five months ago, she finally gave in. Five months that had begun the strangest, most wonderful, and most complicated relationship she had ever experienced. From that moment, everything between them had been intense, nearly suffocating in its passion, overshadowed by her lingering doubts and his determination to prove her wrong. Every kiss felt like a confession of how badly he wanted her to trust him. Every time he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, she glimpsed in his eyes a silent plea that she believed in him. And slowly, she had begun to let her guard down. She let him in further than she had let anyone before.

That is, until four days ago, when her phone blew up with messages and notifications from mutual friends, from acquaintances who had seen it on social media: a photograph of Lando in a club with an unknown girl pressed very close to him. The angle of the camera made it look suggestive, as if he were leaning down into her ear, or maybe even nuzzling her neck. The girl’s arm was around his shoulders, and it looked like she was whispering intimately to him. The moment Y/N saw it, her stomach dropped. She hadn’t known rage so pure, not since childhood memories that she tried to bury. And in that moment, every single doubt she’d ever had about him came roaring back. She confronted him that night in her apartment, the memory of that confrontation still burned into the walls.

–

Four Nights Ago – The Fight

The moment Lando stepped into her living room, Y/N’s hands were shaking from anger. She had texted him: We need to talk. Now. And he’d come over immediately, wearing an expression of anxiety mixed with confusion. He must have known the rumors were swirling online.

“What the hell is that?” she demanded, pointing her phone at him, screen displaying the offending photograph. She didn’t realize she was almost yelling from the get-go. “Care to explain, Lando?”

He swallowed hard. His cheeks reddened. She wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or guilt or both. “It’s… nothing,” he said, raising his palms defensively. “That picture—God, I didn’t even know someone snapped that. It’s not what it looks like.”

Her words came out in a hot rush, unfiltered. “Oh, it’s not? Because it looks like you’re cozying up to some random girl at a club—just like the old days, right?” She breathed in sharply, unable to stop the venom streaming out. “I knew it. I always knew you’d go back to your old ways sooner or later.”

He stepped closer, frustration written on his face. “I wasn’t cozying up to her. She was a friend of a friend. I was leaning down to hear what she was saying because the music was too loud. That’s it. It’s a stupid camera angle.”

“Camera angle,” she repeated mockingly. “Right. Always an excuse. You act like I don’t know you have this… this history. Messaging random girls. Sleeping around. Even when you were with someone, the rumors said—”

“Rumors!” he interjected, voice cracking with frustration. “They were just rumors! I told you a hundred times, I never cheated on anyone. If I had a reputation for partying, it was because I was young, going to clubs, sure, but I wasn’t hooking up with every girl who came near me. And I’m sure as hell not hooking up with them now!”

Her face twisted with anger she couldn’t contain. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You know how insecure I already feel. You know what I’ve been through, Lando!” Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them back, refusing to cry. “You should’ve been more careful. You should have thought about how that picture would look. How it would make me feel.”

He ran a hand through his curls, agitated. “For God’s sake, Y/N, I can’t control every photo or every rumor. I’m an F1 driver. People take pictures. I’m sorry that it happened, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure. Just like you never did anything wrong all those other times you got plastered with groups of girls, right? God, how am I supposed to believe you, Lando?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. She could see him holding back his own anger. “Because,” he replied in a voice that trembled with repressed fury, “I’ve been bending over backward for months trying to prove to you that I’m not that guy. Do you think I spend all this time showering you with gifts, messages, and time, just so I can go out and hook up with random girls? That’s not me anymore!”

he shook her head, her voice laced with contempt that came from the deepest pit of her insecurities. “We can never know for sure, can we? God, I can’t stand the idea that I let you in, and you do something like this.”

He took another step toward her, eyes flashing. “Don’t put this all on me. You came into this relationship—if we can call it that—assuming the worst about me. I’m always on trial with you, Y/N. You never truly trust me.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Well, if you want my trust, then don’t get photographed cuddling with random girls!”

He breathed heavily, exasperation rolling off him. “I told you, it wasn’t cuddling. And I can’t believe you’d think I would cheat on you. After everything we’ve shared.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other, hearts pounding, both of them caught in the throes of powerful, conflicting emotions. Then she lifted her chin, refusing to budge. “Get out,” she said quietly, but her tone was menacing in its finality.

He froze. “Y/N, please. Don’t do this.”

She shook her head. Her vision blurred as tears threatened to spill again. “Get. Out. Now.”

Lando’s expression turned furious and wounded. “Fine,” he spat. “If you won’t even listen to me, what the hell am I supposed to do?” In his frustration, he flung his arm up, wanting to run his hand through his hair, but in that split second, it looked like his hand was coming toward her in a fast, menacing way.

She recoiled instantly, a panicked flinch, arms defensively curling toward her face, eyes wide in fear. A rush of adrenaline spiked through her. It was so fast, so involuntary, as if a primal reflex told her that he was about to hit her.

His entire demeanor changed in an instant. The anger drained from his face, replaced by a haunting sorrow. “Y/N,” he whispered, voice breaking. “You think… you think I would—?”

She just stared at him, still trembling. She hated that her body had interpreted his movement as a threat. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, guilt mixing with the cocktail of fury and heartbreak in her chest. “I— I just… you moved so fast.”

He took a shaky step backward, heartbreak contorting his features. “I would never lay a hand on you,” he said, voice trembling. “How could you even think—?”

She pressed her lips together, her cheeks burning with shame. But the anger was still there, too, overshadowing everything. “Just get out,” she repeated.

He stared at her for a few long seconds, pain written on every line of his face. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel, storming out of the apartment. She heard the door slam behind him. It left her standing alone in the silent living room, her heart pounding loud enough that she thought it might burst through her chest. She sank onto the couch, tears finally spilling.

–

The Four Days of Silence

Now she was on day four without a call, text, or anything from Lando. At first, she’d been so angry she told herself she wouldn’t care if he never reached out again. But after the first 24 hours, the doubts crawled in. Had she overreacted? Was that truly just an innocent picture? She battled with herself over and over, replaying the confrontation in her head, fixating on the moment he raised his arm to push his hair back—how she flinched, how his eyes turned to raw agony.

Guilt ate away at her. Yet the betrayal—and the fear that he was still that same playboy—remained. She wasn’t sure she could handle being with someone who always had rumors swirling around. It was making her question everything.

But she also missed him. Terribly. She missed his laugh, that boyish grin in the morning when he’d wake up next to her, the way he’d wrap his arms around her waist from behind while she was doing something mundane like making coffee. She missed how he would gently brush his fingertips down her cheek while watching TV, how he was always so enthusiastic about introducing her to his friends—well, the few times she’d let herself be around his circle. She missed that warmth and attention, how being with him made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt in a long while.

Late into the nights, she lay awake in her bed, staring at the city lights, tears wet on her cheeks, imagining him in Monaco or at his family’s home, maybe even with that unknown girl. The worst part was that she realized, in her chest, that she truly loved him. A truth she had tried to ignore because acknowledging it made her feel so vulnerable.

She hated herself for flinching, for letting him see that she thought he could physically harm her. She knew enough about him by now to know he wasn’t violent. That flash of panic had come from a dark place in her mind, shaped by her insecurities. She didn’t know if he’d ever forgive her for that. Or if she could ever forgive him for being so careless in that photo.

Day three passed. Then day four. She was pushing through work, eyes rimmed with dark circles from lack of sleep, snapping at her coworkers who asked too many questions, trying to bury herself in spreadsheets and emails.

–

The Afternoon of the Fourth Day

She had just gotten back to her apartment after another draining day at the office. She kicked off her heels by the front door, passing the large mirror in the entrance hallway. She lingered a moment, studying her reflection—searching for something she could never quite name. She tried to straighten her shoulders, to seem more composed than she felt, but the familiar ache of doubt had already settled in.

She always worried that Lando, with his flirty ways and well-known preference for a certain type, would eventually look at her and realize she wasn’t enough. It hurt that she cared so deeply about this. She hated that she cared. She wanted to be that fierce girl who didn’t need anyone’s validation. But with him, she felt so out of control sometimes—like all the confidence she’d tried to build kept slipping through her fingers the moment he smiled at someone else.

Letting out a shaky breath, she headed to her bedroom, planning to change into something more comfortable, maybe sweatpants and an oversized tee. She rounded the corner into her living room—and froze.

Lando was there, standing by the window, looking out across the glittering skyline of London. He had his luggage next to him, as if he had come straight from the airport or something. Her heart jumped to her throat. Anger, relief, love, and pain swirled inside her so violently that she couldn’t even speak for a moment. 

He turned at the sound of her footsteps, eyes meeting hers. She saw the exhaustion on his face, the shadows under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days either. His hair was disheveled, the curls an unruly mess, and he wore a fitted black hoodie and gray joggers. Under normal circumstances, the sight of him might have made her breath catch with desire, but now, there was only tension.

They stared at each other in silence. Her eyes filled with tears again. She loathed that she cried so easily these days. “How did you get in?” she finally managed, her voice cold.

“I still have the key,” he replied quietly. “You didn’t ask for it back.”

She swallowed. Right. She hadn’t. Maybe that was a subconscious sign she wanted him to return. “You can’t just barge in here.”

“I didn’t know how else to see you,” he said, voice trembling with raw honesty. “You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I kept sending messages the first two days, you never replied. I got scared you’d blocked me, or that you never wanted to see me again.”

She scoffed, though hearing he’d tried to call made her guilt spike. She had left her phone on silent, or face-down, ignoring the messages—convinced she had to remain strong. “And so you decided to ambush me at home?”

He clenched his jaw, taking a step forward. “I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, Y/N. It’s been killing me.” He paused, searching her face with a mixture of desperation and anger. “I’m sorry for everything. But you have to understand, that picture—it was nothing. And I hate that you believed otherwise. It feels like you don’t trust me at all.”

“Because you’ve given me reasons to doubt,” she snapped, tears threatening to spill once more. “I’ve seen the rumors, the pictures, the girls you used to be with. I can’t— I don’t know how to handle it. It hurts to even think about. I can’t stand the idea of being compared to those bikini-model types you used to party with.”

His eyes widened. “Compared to them? Y/N, I’ve never once compared you to anyone. I—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, I know I made mistakes in my past. I slept around. I partied. But that was before. This last year has changed me, especially these five months with you.” He paused, voice trembling, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

Her throat was tight. She exhaled slowly, all the anger and hurt rising again. “Then why did that picture look so—so intimate?”

He rubbed his face. “I was talking to that girl. She was leaning in because the music was loud. I wasn’t even there for long. I’d gone out with some mates, had a few drinks, and left early. I swear to you, I wasn’t flirting or anything close to that.”

She folded her arms protectively, glowering. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?”

He looked at her with a heartbreak so profound that her stomach twisted. “I wish you would,” he whispered. “Because it’s true.”

She stared at the floor, tension coursing through her. The silence pressed down on them. She recalled the image of his arm moving up four nights ago, the absolute terror she felt, that flicker of fear that he might hurt her physically. She forced her eyes up to his. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, voice catching. “For thinking you’d hit me.”

His face contorted with anguish. “That… that moment,” he said, voice shaking, “I can’t even describe how it felt to see you flinch like that. Like you believed I could do something so horrible.”

She sucked in a breath, her lips quivering. “I just—I don’t know what came over me. It was a reflex. But everything else I meant. I can’t stand the way you have these shady pictures circulating. The rumors. And I hate feeling like I’m one in a long line of random women in your life. It eats me alive.”

His eyes were red, and he seemed to hold himself back from crossing the room to comfort her. “You’re not just another woman,” he said, voice brimming with emotion. “I would never see you that way. I love you, damn it. Don’t you get it? You’re everything to me.”

She swallowed, her heart thumping so loud it filled her ears. “You say that,” she answered raggedly, “but it’s so easy to say. What if you get bored, or you find someone else, or you want someone who wears skimpier clothes—someone who has the perfect body or an easier attitude?”

He scoffed softly, a pained look crossing his face. “Skimpier clothes? You think I care about that? Y/N, I love you for you. You can wear a shapeless potato sack, and I’d still think you’re breathtaking.” He licked his lips, stepping closer, but still leaving a couple feet of space, as if cautious not to invade her bubble if she didn’t want it. “I don’t want any other woman. I want you. I hate that all these rumors, these illusions, keep driving a wedge between us.”

She turned away, crossing to the couch. She rested her palms on the back of it, trying to steady her breathing, trying not to let the tears fall. “I can’t… forget. When I see pictures like that, it’s like a knife to the chest.”

He came up behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. Very gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I could erase my past. I wish I could protect you from seeing that photo. But I can’t. All I can do is promise you I wasn’t cheating, nor do I ever want to.”

Anger still simmered beneath her skin, but she also felt the longing, the deep ache to reconcile with him. She wanted to lash out, to blame him, but she was so damn tired of fighting herself and him. She turned around slowly, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” she asked hoarsely, tears pooling in her eyes. “Why didn’t you show up earlier?”

He inhaled sharply. “I tried calling. When you didn’t answer, I was worried you’d blocked me or that you needed space. I also needed to cool down. After how we yelled at each other, I— I was afraid you wouldn’t even look at me.” A trembling laugh escaped him. “I didn’t want to drive you further away. But last night, I realized I couldn’t handle another hour without trying to see you. So I packed my bag and flew here this morning.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, fresh tears running down. “I hate you,” she whispered, though her tone was heartbreakingly vulnerable, betraying how she felt the exact opposite.

He grimaced, eyes moist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’ll do anything to make this right.”

For a moment, she couldn’t respond. She just stared at him through the haze of tears. Something inside her cracked wide open—the dam that had been holding in all the emotion. In one swift motion, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. She felt his heart hammering beneath her cheek.

He hesitated only a split second before he crushed her against him, his arms wrapping around her waist so tightly as if he was afraid she’d slip away at any moment. The tears she’d been holding back poured out, and she felt his body shaking too. They stood there, locked in an embrace that trembled with raw anguish.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again into her hair, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hate that you made me doubt you,” she whispered, voice muffled by his shirt. “And I hate that I’m so insecure. But most of all, I hate that… I can’t let you go.” She let out a choked sob, closing her eyes. “I love you too. And it hurts so bad because I’m scared you’ll destroy me someday.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’d rather die than hurt you,” he said, voice cracking with sincerity. “I’d rather die than lose you.”

The tension and heartbreak in the air shifted palpably, turning into a different kind of electricity. They pulled back just enough to look at each other, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Their faces were inches apart, breath intermingling. Then, wordlessly, as if drawn by a magnetic force, their lips collided in a fierce, desperate kiss.

She tasted salt from her tears as he kissed her, but the urgency in the press of his mouth overwhelmed her senses. Her hands slid up around his neck, fingers tangling in his curls. He held her face between his palms as though she were something delicate—yet the kiss itself was anything but gentle. It was raw, intense, filled with the pent-up longing of four days of agony and an entire relationship’s worth of insecurities.

They broke apart for a brief moment, gasping for air, foreheads touching as they tried to form words. But no words came. Only that frantic hunger to feel close after so many days of pain and confusion. They resumed kissing, deeper this time, tongues and teeth clashing, breath ragged. She moaned softly against his mouth, her body igniting with the need to be consumed by him.

“Bedroom,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak. His eyes were dark with longing, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

She grabbed his hand and led him down the short hallway. The moment they entered her bedroom, the tension redoubled. Even the air felt charged. The blinds were half-drawn, letting in the golden glow of the late-afternoon sun. The duvet on her bed was slightly disheveled, and she had thrown some clothes on it earlier that morning. The entire room smelled like her faint vanilla perfume and the leftover anxiety of the last few days.

She turned to face him, breath quivering. He reached for her face, cupping her cheek. She looked up into his eyes, still rimmed with leftover hurt. She reached for his hoodie, and he helped yank it off, tossing it aside. The next second, he was kissing her again, guiding her toward the bed. He peeled off her blouse, his hands shaking with the intensity of the moment, exposing her skin to the cool air and his heated gaze.

His lips moved down her jaw, her neck, gently nipping at the sensitive flesh there, drawing out soft gasps. Her fingers fumbled with the waistband of his joggers, pulling them down. Every movement was frantic, desperate, as if they both knew that making up like this was both a healing and a reaffirmation of what they meant to each other.

She sank onto the bed, and he followed, settling above her. Their mouths found each other again in a searing kiss, tongues dancing as their bodies pressed together. She could feel his heart beating wildly. She let her hands roam over his torso, savoring the warmth of his skin, the muscle that flexed beneath her palms. He groaned into her mouth, his voice husky with need.

“God, I missed you,” he breathed. He lowered his head to kiss down her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin. “I was going crazy not hearing your voice.”

She arched against him, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by how much she had missed him too. Her nails lightly raked his shoulders. “Don’t ever disappear on me again,” she murmured, breath hitching. “Don’t leave me like that.”

He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. The raw emotion in his eyes almost made her dizzy. “Never,” he promised, and he sealed the vow with a slow, deep kiss.

Their hands explored every inch of exposed skin, reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies as though it had been years rather than mere days. Slowly, carefully, they stripped away the barriers of clothes. Each article of clothing fell to the floor or was pushed aside on the bed, along with the tensions and fears that had weighed on them. He caressed her curves, pressing gentle kisses to her hip, her waist, then trailing his lips up to her neck. She whimpered softly, allowing herself to be lost in the sensations.

He loomed above her, completely naked, his body trembling with the intensity of the moment. His hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before he moved up her body again. His lips found hers in a searing kiss, hot and desperate, as if he were trying to make up for every second of the four days they’d spent apart. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his unruly curls, pulling him closer, as though she could fuse them together and never let him go again.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips didn’t stray far. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her temples, each press of his mouth a silent apology, a promise, a plea. His breath was warm against her skin as he trailed kisses down her jawline, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. She shivered, a soft whimper escaping her lips as her head fell back against the pillows, her body arching instinctively toward him.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he kissed across her collarbone, his hands moving down to her shoulders to steady her. His lips moved lower, leaving a trail of fire across her chest. He lingered there, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, his breath hitching as if he were savoring her. She could feel his hunger, his desperation, and it mirrored her own. When his mouth finally closed around her nipple, she gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair.

He sucked gently at first, teasing her, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud until she was squirming beneath him. Then he sucked harder, drawing a sharp cry from her lips. She could feel the heat pooling low in her stomach, her body responding to him as it always did, as if it were wired to crave him and him alone. His fingers found her other breast, kneading and teasing, and she moaned, her back arching off the bed.

“Lando,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own ragged breathing.

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen from kissing her. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I can’t get enough of you.”

She reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of everything that had happened between them hanging in the air. But then he leaned down, capturing her lips in another kiss, and all the tension, all the doubt, melted away, replaced by an all-consuming need.

This time, when he pulled back, his hands moved to her hips, lifting her slightly so he could slide further down the bed. His lips trailed down her stomach, leaving a path of fire in their wake, and she shuddered, her hands clutching at the sheets. He kissed her hips, her thighs, his breath warm against her skin, and then his mouth was on her again, sucking and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste her.

She cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily, and he groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her still as he continued to worship her with his mouth, his tongue flicking over her sensitive flesh until she was trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“Lando,” she moaned, her voice breaking. “Please.”

Lando didn’t lift his head, not yet. His hands tightened on her hips as he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to trace the slick, sensitive folds of her pussy. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her, and she whimpered, her thighs trembling on either side of his head. He could taste her, her arousal, her need, and it drove him wild. He loved her like this, so open, so vulnerable, so completely his. His tongue delved deeper, exploring her, savoring her, and she cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmured against her, his breath hot. “I could taste you forever.” His voice was rough, dripping with desire, and it sent a shiver up her spine. He pulled back slightly, his lips closing around her clit, and he sucked gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. She arched off the bed, her moans echoing through the room, and he groaned, the sound muffled against her.

He lifted his head just enough to speak, his lips glistening with her. “You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice low and reverent. “I fucking love your pussy, Y/N. I love how you writhe for me, how you moan for me.” He kissed her again, his tongue slipping inside her, and she gasped, her hips bucking against his face. He held her steady, his hands firm on her hips, as he drank her in, every sound, every taste, every shudder of her body.

He loved this—he lived for this. The way she fell apart for him, the way her breath hitched and her cries grew louder, the way she trembled when he touched her just right. He loved the way she moaned his name, the way she clutched at the sheets, the way she surrendered to him completely. He loved knowing that he could make her feel this good, that he could bring her to the edge and push her over, that he could make her his in every possible way.

His tongue flicked over her clit again, faster this time, more insistent, and her moans turned into desperate cries. “Lando—please—I’m so close,” she gasped, her voice breaking. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue working her relentlessly, and she came with a sharp cry, her body convulsing, her hands clawing at the sheets. He didn’t let up, drinking in every drop of her release, until she was panting, her body limp and trembling.

He finally lifted his head, his lips wet, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice rough. He crawled up her body, his hands framing her face as he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips. “I love making you feel good,” he murmured against her mouth. “I love hearing you moan, feeling you shake, watching you fall apart for me.”

She reached for him, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. “You’re incredible,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I love it when you worship me like that, when you make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters.” Her eyes were soft, filled with adoration, and he kissed her again, gently this time, savoring the way she melted into him.

“You are the only thing that matters,” he said, his voice low and earnest. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you—your body, your mind, your soul. I love making you feel good, I love hearing you moan, I love watching you come. I love you.”

She smiled, a slow, sweet smile that made his heart ache. “I love you too,” she whispered. She pulled him down, her lips finding his, and they kissed, slow and deep, their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating in sync. For the first time in days, the world felt right again.

He pulled away from her lips reluctantly, his chest heaving, his cock throbbing between them as he hovered above her. “I need to be inside you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. “I can’t wait anymore.” His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he guided her closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between her legs.

But she shook her head, her eyes filled with need, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Not yet,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need you in my mouth first. Please, Lando. Let me taste you.”

He groaned, his head falling back as he fought for control. “Fuck, Y/N—I want to be in you. I’ve been waiting for this for days.”

Her hands slid down his chest, her nails lightly scratching his skin as she moved lower, her fingers wrapping around his hard cock. He hissed at the touch, his hips jerking forward instinctively. “I know,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “But I need this. I need to feel you in my mouth. Let me, please. I’ll make it good for you.”

He looked down at her, his eyes burning with desire and frustration. She was begging him, her voice dripping with need, and he couldn’t deny her. Not when she looked up at him like that—with those pleading eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his resolve crumbling. “Just—just for a minute. Then I’m inside you.”

She didn’t waste another second. Lando lay back on the bed, his head resting on the pillows, his chest rising and falling rapidly as she positioned herself between his legs. His cock was already leaking precum, the tip glistening, and she could feel him twitch in her hand as she stroked him slowly. She licked her lips, her mouth watering at the sight of him, at the thought of tasting him, of feeling him on her tongue.

Without hesitation, without teasing, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head. He groaned loudly, his hands fisting in the sheets as she sucked him deep, her head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm. One hand rested on his inner thigh, her fingers digging into his skin, while the other stroked the base of his cock in time with her movements.

She looked up at him, her eyes locked on his as she sucked him, her lips stretched around his length. The sight of her—her lips wrapped around his cock, her eyes filled with hunger—was almost too much for him. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and she moaned around him, the sound vibrating through him, sending jolts of pleasure racing down his spine.

“Look at you,” he breathed, his voice rough with arousal. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this. You love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you? You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N. Such a fucking slut for my dick.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop. She loved when he talked dirty to her, when he called her his slut, his good girl. It made her feel wanted, desired, and it only made her suck him harder, her movements becoming more desperate, more eager. Her hand moved from his inner thigh to his balls, her fingers gently massaging them as she continued to suck him, her lips and tongue working him relentlessly.

She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, could taste the saltiness of his precum on her tongue, and it only made her want him more. She loved the way he felt in her mouth, the way he filled her, the way he made her feel so alive, so connected to him. She loved the way he moaned her name, the way his hands tightened in the sheets as he tried to hold himself back. She loved the way he looked at her, his eyes filled with desire, his breath hitching as she sucked him.

For Lando, it was almost too much. The sight of her—her lips wrapped around his cock, her eyes filled with hunger, her hand stroking him, her fingers massaging his balls—was driving him wild. He loved seeing her like this, so turned on, so eager for him. It made him feel powerful, desired, and it made him want to give her everything she begged for. He loved the way she looked at him, her eyes locked on his as she sucked him, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He loved the way she moaned around him, the way her body trembled with need. She was his, and he loved every fucking second of it.

But he couldn’t let himself come—not yet. He wanted to be inside her, to feel her tight, wet pussy around him as he spilled himself deep inside her. He gently pushed her away, his hands trembling as he gripped her shoulders. “Enough,” he said, his voice rough with need. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

She pulled back, her lips swollen, her breathing ragged, her eyes filled with longing. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desire. “Please. I need you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands moved with purpose, gripping her hips firmly as he manhandled her onto her back again, her body sinking into the mattress. She gasped, her hands instinctively reaching for him as he positioned himself above her, his weight pressing her into the bed. His eyes locked onto hers, intense, brimming with something deeper than desire—something raw, emotional, and unspoken. He hovered for a moment, his breath ragged, his chest heaving, before he shifted, guiding himself toward her entrance.

She felt the tip of him brush against her, hot and insistent, and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. He paused, his hands framing her face as he leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers. She could feel the tremble in his body, the way he was holding himself back, trying to control the primal urge to claim her. His breath mingled with hers, shaky and uneven, as he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

And then, slowly, achingly slow, he entered her. She felt every inch of him as he pushed inside, her body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation both overwhelming and electrifying. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to steady her breathing. It wasn’t just the physical sensation that made her head spin—it was the way he looked at her, his eyes never leaving hers, his expression a mix of reverence and desperation. It felt like he wasn’t just entering her body; he was reclaiming her heart, her soul, every piece of her that had been fractured by distance and doubt.

For Lando, the moment was equally intense. The warmth of her body enveloped him, tight and welcoming, and he groaned, his head falling forward as he fought to keep his movements slow, controlled. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps, and it made him ache with a need that went far beyond physical. He wanted to lose himself in her, to drown in the way she felt around him, but more than that, he wanted her to know how much she meant to him. How much he loved her. How he’d do anything to keep her, to protect her, to make her feel cherished.

He stayed inside her, not moving, his body flush against hers, their breaths mingling as they stared into each other’s eyes. The stillness was charged, electric, as if the world had paused just for them. She could feel him twitching inside her, the way his body seemed to throb with the effort of holding back, and it made her ache with a need that was almost unbearable. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling, her hands clutching at his back. “Please… move. I need you.”

But he shook his head, his hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I want to take my time with you. I want to show you how much I love you, Y/N. How much you mean to me.” His words were soft, tender, but there was a fire behind them that made her heart race. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss, his tongue exploring hers as if he were trying to memorize every inch of her.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m yours. Always.” His voice broke on the last word, and she could feel the sincerity in it, the weight of his promise. It was as if he were trying to pour every ounce of his love, his devotion, into that one moment.

She whimpered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. “I love you,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion. “I missed you so much. Please, Lando… don’t let go.”

He kissed her again, his movements slow and deliberate, his hands roaming her body with a reverence that made her heart ache. He worshiped her with his touch, his lips, his words, as if every inch of her were sacred. His hands slid down her sides, smoothing over her skin, before he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples in slow, teasing circles. She arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as her body responded to him instinctively.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he leaned down to kiss her neck, her collarbone, the sensitive spot just below her ear. His lips were warm, his breath hot against her skin, and she shivered, her hands tightening in his hair. He took his time, exploring every inch of her with a patience that made her ache. 

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice pleading, her hands tugging at his hair. “Please… I need you. I need you to move.”

But he shook his head again, his hands sliding down to her hips, gripping her firmly as he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. “I’m not going to rush this,” he said, his voice steady despite the fire burning in his gaze. “I want to make this last. I want to make you feel how much I love you, Y/N. How much I’ve missed you.”

His words were a balm to her soul, soothing the raw edges of her heart, but they also made her ache with need. She could feel him inside her, hot and thick, twitching with every breath, and it was maddening to have him so close, so still. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking, her hips lifting slightly in an attempt to get him to move. “Please, Lando… I need you to fuck me. I need you to make me feel good.”

He groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily at her words, but he held himself back, his hands tightening on her hips. “I will,” he promised, his voice rough with desire. “But not yet. I want to savor this. I want to savor you.”

She whimpered, her nails digging into his back as she tried to pull him closer, but he stayed still, his eyes locked on hers, his expression filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache. She loved this side of him—the way he could be so soft, so gentle, even in moments of intense passion. It made her feel cherished, adored, and it made her love him even more.

Finally, he began to move, his hips rocking against hers in slow, deliberate thrusts. The sensation was maddening, each movement drawing a soft cry from her lips as she writhed beneath him. He kept his pace slow, his eyes never leaving hers, his hands moving to cup her face as he leaned down to kiss her again. His lips were warm, his tongue exploring hers in a way that made her head spin, and she moaned into his mouth, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

For her, the slow, deliberate movements were both agonizing and intoxicating. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, the sensation building slowly, steadily, until she felt like she might explode. She could feel him inside her, hot and thick, filling her completely, and it made her ache with a need that was almost unbearable. She wanted more—needed more—but he held back, his movements controlled, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

For Lando, the slow pace was equally intense. He could feel her around him, tight and warm, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from losing himself in her. He wanted to savor this moment, to make it last, to show her how much she meant to him. He wanted to worship her, to make her feel loved, cherished, adored. And he knew that the only way to do that was to take his time, to draw out every second, to make her feel every ounce of his love.

He kissed her again, his lips moving against hers in a slow, deep rhythm that matched the pace of his thrusts. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips, his voice trembling with emotion. “I love you so much, Y/N. I’m never letting you go.”

She whimpered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with a desperation that mirrored his own. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please, Lando… don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept his pace slow, deliberate, his thrusts deep and steady as he continued to worship her with his body, his touch, his words. He kept kissing her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, his lips lingering on every inch of her skin as if he were trying to memorize her. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he were trying to commit her to memory.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he leaned down to kiss her again. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I never will.”

She moaned, her hands clutching at his back as she arched into his touch, her body responding to him instinctively. The slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts was driving her wild, the sensation building slowly, steadily, until she felt like she might explode. “Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Please… I’m so close.”

He kissed her again, his movements never faltering as he held himself above her, his eyes locked on hers. “Let go, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

And with those words, she shattered, her body convulsing as she clung to him, her cries muffled against his chest. He held her through it, his thrusts never faltering as he continued to drive her over the edge, his own release building steadily until he could no longer hold back. With a low groan, he pressed his face into her neck, his body shaking as he spilled himself inside her, his breath hot against her skin.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies trembling, their breaths mingling as they held onto each other. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the weight of everything they had shared, everything they had overcome.

Slowly, he pulled back, looking down at her with an aching tenderness she had never seen so plainly before. He brushed damp hair off her forehead, trailing a thumb across her cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice a low rasp in the hush of the room. “I love you so much. And I’m so sorry for everything.”

She exhaled shakily, caressing the side of his face. “I’m sorry, too,” she murmured. “I got so consumed by anger and jealousy. I should have let you explain calmly. And I… I should never have doubted that you’d raise a hand to me.”

He shook his head, kissing her temple. “You have nothing to apologize for. Your fears come from a real place. I just want to do better for you. I never want you to think I could hurt you.” He swallowed hard. “I’m terrified of losing you.”

She stared up into his eyes, seeing the layers of heartbreak there. “Don’t do anything that makes me doubt you again, Lando. Please,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “I can’t take this kind of fight again.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I promise,” he said. “And if something comes up—pictures, rumors, anything—please talk to me before letting it build up in your head. I’ll tell you everything.”

She nodded, tears threatening once more, but they didn’t spill. “Okay,” she agreed softly.

They settled into a quiet embrace, his arm draped over her waist, her head on his chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heart, each beat reassuring her that he was here and that he wasn’t letting go. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in pink and orange hues that filtered into the room. For a time, neither of them spoke, letting the warmth of each other’s bodies and the lingering afterglow of their fierce coupling do the talking.

Eventually, their breathing evened out, and Lando shifted to lie on his side, propping his head on one hand so he could look at her fully. She blushed slightly, tugging the sheets up to cover herself, though he’d already seen every inch. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her lips felt tender from the rough kisses.

He reached out to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly.

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. “Don’t,” she mumbled. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he insisted. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Your body, your face, your heart… it’s all incredible to me.”

“Stop flattering me,” she murmured, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. His genuine admiration always made her heart skip a beat.

He gave her a half-smile, though there was still a hint of sadness in his eyes. “We have to talk, you know,” he said softly. “We can’t just… pretend the argument didn’t happen.”

She nodded, the smile fading as she remembered the fiery fight. “I know.”

He took a deep breath, shifting closer so their foreheads nearly touched. “I hate that my past makes you feel insecure. But it’s my past. I can’t change it, no matter how badly I wish I could.” He placed a hand gently on her hip. “I need you to understand that I’m not that guy anymore. Maybe I was reckless before, a little shallow. But I’m not the same person I was a year or two years ago.”

She chewed her lip, eyes drifting to where her hand lay over his on the bed. “I guess a part of me thinks that once a player, always a player,” she admitted. “Like, if you’ve done it once, you’ll do it again. But I know that’s not fair. People can change.”

His fingers squeezed hers lightly. “I don’t want anyone else. I know you might find it hard to believe, but it’s true. I’m not going to ruin this for some random stranger in a club.” He paused, voice growing thick with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I love your fierceness, your shy smiles, your sarcastic quips, how you refuse to let me pay for everything even though I want to spoil you. I love the way you get all excited about a new book or a new recipe you learned. I love your body, every curve, every inch, how it feels like you were made to fit in my arms.”

She drew in a shaky breath, tears gathering again. “Lando…”

He nodded, blinking back his own moisture. “So trust me, please. Talk to me if you feel suspicious. Don’t bottle it up until it explodes. Because I can’t go another four days like this. It was pure hell.”

She closed her eyes, exhaling. “I’m sorry I shut you out,” she whispered, voice trembling. “And I’ll… I’ll try. I don’t want to go through this either. I just need reassurance. Because my insecurities are… they’re crippling sometimes. Seeing that picture brought back every fear I had.”

He cupped her cheek gently. “I get it. And I’ll do my best to reassure you. Always.”

They shared a tender kiss, a silent pact to communicate better, to lean on each other instead of letting the fear linger. After a few more minutes of hushed conversation, she excused herself to use the bathroom, to freshen up.

Stepping into the attached en-suite, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair in wild mess. She splashed cool water on her face, trying to calm the roiling emotions. She felt lighter somehow, as if her chest wasn’t as constricted. He was here, in her home, in her bed, and they’d just poured out so many painful feelings. But they’d also reconnected intimately, forging a new bond in the midst of all the anguish.

Yet a small flicker of doubt still lingered. She wondered if she could truly accept the rumors that might come in the future—pictures of him with fans, random girls in clubs, or women who found him attractive. He was an F1 driver, he was famous, and she couldn’t shield him from the outside world. She swallowed hard, telling herself that if she truly loved him, and if he truly loved her, they would find a way through it.

When she returned, dressed in a fresh tee and shorts, she found him sitting on her bed, having pulled on his boxers. The bedside lamp was on, illuminating the curve of his shoulders, the slight slump as he stared at his phone. He looked up the moment she stepped in.

“Everything okay?” she asked softly, noticing his phone in his hand.

He grimaced. “Max and a couple of the other guys are freaking out because I went off the grid. I told them I needed time to sort this out.”

She nodded, crossing to the bed, settling beside him. “I’m sorry if I caused you trouble.”

He shook his head. “No, don’t apologize for that. They were worried, but now that I told them I’m with you, they’re pretty much leaving me alone.”

She reached for his phone, pressing the lock button so the screen went dark, then set it aside on the nightstand. “You’re here with me now,” she said quietly. “Focus on that.”

He exhaled, nodding. Then his eyes flickered to the faint bruise on her wrist, a small mark she’d gotten from accidentally knocking her hand against a table the day before. She saw him stare with concern. “What’s that?”

She glanced at it. “Oh, that’s nothing. I bumped into something at work. I’m clumsy.”

He lightly brushed his thumb over the bruise, then lifted her hand and kissed the spot gently. The tender gesture made her chest tighten. His gaze moved up to hers, intense. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “for scaring you the other night. I haven’t gotten that out of my head. The way you flinched…”

A wave of guilt crashed over her. “Lando, I said I’m sorry. It’s not you—it’s my own fear. I just reacted.”

“But the fact that you could even think I’d—” He exhaled unsteadily, closing his eyes. “I promise I’ll never move that way again. I’ll be mindful. I don’t want to trigger that reflex or make you think—”

She slid her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “No. Don’t change how you move or exist in the world,” she whispered, voice thick with regret. “It was my own trauma or fear or something. But I know you’d never do that to me, logically. My body just panicked.”

He nodded, holding her close. “Okay,” he said softly. “But if you ever feel scared, tell me. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel safe.”

They stayed like that for a long time, arms wrapped around each other on the bed, the soft glow of the lamp creating a cocoon of intimacy. She felt his heartbeat slow as he relaxed in her arms, his breathing growing calmer. She gently stroked the back of his neck, and he exhaled against her shoulder.

Finally, she drew back slightly, looking into his face. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

He shook his head, giving her a wry smile. “No. I came straight here from the airport, then… all this happened.”

She offered a small smile in return. “I’ll order us takeout. Thai or pizza?”

He shrugged. “Anything you like. Though I’m kind of craving noodles.”

She nodded, picking up her phone from the nightstand, scrolling through her food delivery apps. Within minutes, she placed an order for a selection of Thai dishes. Then she set her phone aside again.

Lando let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t believe we went from screaming at each other to ordering noodles. My head’s spinning.”

She gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, it’s been a rollercoaster.” Her features turned somber as she looked at him. “Do you regret coming here?”

He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. “Not in the slightest. I want to fix things with you more than anything.”

A gentle silence fell over them, broken only by the hum of the city outside. She cuddled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. Despite the leftover ache, a sense of relief washed over her. He was here. They were together, speaking, touching, and trying to heal.

[kiyawritesforf1]

ORANGE HEARTS AND ACCIDENTAL CONFESSIONS

Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader

Words : 2.1k

The roar of engines buzzed in the air like electricity, the familiar vrrrrrooom rattling through Y/N’s chest as she stood just inside the Silverstone paddock. It was her first time at a Grand Prix, and it just so happened to be her 20th birthday.

She could hardly believe it.

The Silverstone GP. The home race. McLaren country. And she was actually here.

Well—technically, she was mostly here because of her little brother, Eli, who had a surprising amount of charisma for a 7-year-old and had begged her to take him after winning a radio contest. She couldn't say no. Not when he looked at her with those eyes. And not when it involved McLaren.

She tugged nervously at the hem of her papaya-orange hoodie, the one with a subtle Lando Norris logo stitched near the pocket. She told herself it wasn’t because of him—it was just a cool hoodie. Comfortable. Good color. That was it. Totally not because Lando was, like, ridiculously cute or anything.

"Eli," she whispered, crouching beside her brother as he waved frantically at the crowd of fans nearby. "Remember, we’re just here to watch. No chaos, okay?"

He grinned, teeth missing in typical 7-year-old fashion. “No chaos. Got it. But can we still find the McLaren drivers?”

Y/N’s stomach flipped. “I mean… maybe? Don’t get your hopes—"

Before she could finish, a cheerful paddock assistant called them over.

“Hey! You’re the radio contest winners, right? Come on, you get a quick meet-and-greet with the McLaren drivers before qualifying!”

Y/N froze.

Meet. The. Drivers.

She turned bright red on the spot. Her brother, on the other hand, fist-pumped the air and yelled, “LET’S GO!”

The McLaren hospitality area was cooler, quieter, but somehow even more intimidating. Y/N could barely focus. There were crew members zipping by, fans waving politely, and cameras everywhere. She tried not to shrink into her hoodie.

Then came the moment.

Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri walked in casually, like they weren’t internationally loved racing drivers. Lando had a charming grin plastered on his face, curls slightly messy, while Oscar looked more chill, nodding politely as they approached.

Eli whispered, “They look way cooler in real life.”

Y/N had lost all ability to breathe. Or blink. Or function.

“Hey there!” Lando greeted, crouching slightly to Eli’s height. “You the big fan we’ve been hearing about?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer, but Eli was faster. “Well, actually—she said I was the fan. But it’s not true. I like Oscar more. She’s the one who’s obsessed with you.”

Y/N nearly died.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up, and his grin widened. “Oh really?”

“I—he—I didn’t—I meant like—” she stammered, face the shade of a ripe tomato.

Oscar chuckled. “You throwing her under the bus already, mate?” he asked Eli, who nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Yup. She even watches your Twitch streams. And when you crashed in Austria last year, she nearly cried. She talks to the TV during races.”

“Okay,” Y/N gasped, “you’ve made your point.”

But Lando looked delighted. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “So, you’re my secret biggest fan, huh? And here I thought it was Eli.”

“I’m not—well I am—but not—like that—I just really like—your driving—” she winced as the words fell out. “I should stop talking.”

“Nah,” Lando said, smirking, “This is fun.”

Eli beamed. “You should see the poster in her room.”

“Eli!” Y/N squeaked.

Oscar leaned toward Eli, mock-conspiratorial. “Does she have one of me too?”

Eli shook his head solemnly. “Nah, sorry. She says you’re cool, but not Lando cool.”

Oscar placed a hand over his heart. “Tragic.”

Lando was trying not to laugh. “Well, now I’m definitely signing something for you, Y/N.”

Y/N peeked up at him through her lashes. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh, I want to,” he said, handing her a sharpie with a wink. “Where should I sign? Hoodie? Poster? Phone case?”

She practically combusted on the spot.

The rest of the meet-and-greet was a blur. Oscar and Eli got along weirdly well, both sharing a deadpan sense of humor that made Y/N question if her little brother had been swapped at birth. Meanwhile, Lando kept finding ways to make her flustered—offering her papaya-colored snacks, nudging her arm when she got too quiet, casually calling her “my favorite fan.”

She’d never felt so seen. Or so teased.

As they were leaving, Lando suddenly leaned over.

“Hey, before you go,” he said. “Can I ask something?”

Y/N blinked up at him, suspicious. “Maybe?”

“If I signed something else… like, I don’t know… your ticket stub or a coffee cup… would that count as a birthday gift?”

Her heart nearly exploded. “H-how did you know it was my birthday?”

Eli, once again, unhelpful: “She told me not to mention it so you wouldn’t feel like you had to do anything. But she hoped you would.”

Y/N covered her face with both hands. “I can’t take him anywhere.”

But Lando just laughed, taking the cup from her hand and scribbling on it. When he handed it back, it read:

Happy Birthday to my #1 (but totally not) fan. Coffee sometime? - Lando :) + his number.

She stared.

“Did you just—give me your—?”

“Only if you’ll use it,” he said, a little quieter now. “You don’t have to. But… I’d really like it if you did.”

Oscar clapped Eli on the back. “Hey, what do you think? Should she go on a date with him?”

Eli crossed his arms, thinking. “Only if he lets me drive the simulator next time.”

Lando grinned. “Done.”

Eli gave a thumbs up. “Then it’s a yes.”

Y/N groaned, but smiled. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Believe it,” Lando said, bumping her shoulder. “See you soon, birthday girl.”

They walked out of the paddock into the sunset-pink sky, the sound of engines fading behind them.

Eli was skipping beside her, chattering about Oscar’s jokes and simulator promises, completely unaware that his matchmaking might’ve just changed Y/N’s life.

She looked down at the signed cup in her hand, cheeks still pink.

Yeah. This was the best birthday ever.

End of Part 1

————

It will be random snippets from their life nothing too serious

[tsunodaradio]

kalamantina ⛐ 𝐋𝐍𝟒

you find yourself exactly where he asked you to be— on your knees in front of him.

ꔮ starring: lando norris x girlfriend!reader. ꔮ word count: 1.5k. ꔮ includes: smut. established relationship. cussing, oral [m receiving], lando is a bit mean. ꔮ commentary box: title from the saint levant song of the same name. 100% for @norrisradio. no further comments. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

When qualifying is good, it’s good.

Lando is happiest when the car performs well, when he’s in tune with it like it’s some sort of second skin. He’s always the sweetest when he’s riding on the high of a pole position— throwing his arms around your shoulders, cheekily asking Did you see, love? Were you watching? 

When qualifying is bad, though— 

It’s rare, but not unheard of. You feel the disappointment thrumming in the garage when Lando is knocked out of Q2, slated to start 15th. In a circuit like Monaco, it’s as good as a death sentence. 

All the reasons blur together. Oversteer, floor damage, shitty tyre strategy. 

The team will tell you later that he yelled. Told everyone to get the fuck out and give him a fucking moment. 

You weren’t there. See, he’d never yell at you. Everybody else, they were subject to his blistering rage and his cutthroat critique, no questions asked. 

You get the texts. 

Today, it’s sweet and simple. 

make me feel better, baby. 

Not a question. Not an offer.

It’s not hard to find Lando; the team points you to his driver room. The first thing you notice is that he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights. You wordlessly close the door behind you, the click of the lock resounding in the otherwise quiet space. 

Your eyes adjust to the darkness. He’s still in his black fireproofs, lounging on the room’s sole couch. The back of his head remains pressed against the mirror behind him, and he looks vaguely like he’s trying to get his breathing under control. 

The silence stretches for a bit. You don’t dare break it.

Lando cracks open one of his eyes to finally glance at you. He only says your name— his voice low and raspy and devoid of the saccharine affection you’re used to. 

“Hi, baby,” you greet him back. 

You know better than to try coddling him, to give him platitudes or dissect his fall from grace like a science project. No, you’re here for one reason and one reason only. 

To make Lando feel better. 

He gives the slightest jerks of his head. You move forward, your steps careful and your gaze scrutinizing. 

The rage rolls off him in waves. You know where this is going, and it’s made abundantly clear in his next command. 

“On your knees,” Lando barks. And then, after a heartbeat. Softer, a hint of the boy you knew and loved: “Please.” 

(You would’ve done it even without the plea.)

You find yourself exactly where he asked you to be— on your knees in front of him. His pants and underwear have been pulled to his ankles, the clothing just barely restraining him from spreading as much as he wants to. 

You plant a kiss to the inside of his bare thigh before tentatively licking a stripe up to his center. He stays quiet, but his body reacts accordingly. His knee bounces. His cock twitches against his stomach. 

“Are you sure about this, baby?” Your voice is barely above a murmur; your breath, warm over his heated skin. 

“I asked for it, didn’t I?” he grits out, and you decide to put him out of his misery. 

You start off slow. Hollowed cheeks as you bob your head up and down his length. Your fingers, wrapped around whichever part of him you can’t take in. Lando stays eerily quiet for the first couple of minutes, and so you resort to watching his face for any possible yellow flags. 

A muscle in his jaw jumps when your eyes meet. His gaze is heavy-lidded and his pupils are blown out, darkened in a way that has little to do with the lack of light in the room. 

It spurs you on to sink down a little lower onto him, to flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock. That move has him entangling his fingers in your hair, his grip bruising on the get-go. 

“Again,” Lando demands. 

You try to replicate what you’d just done, but your boyfriend’s nails scraping over your scalp throws you off-kilter. You’re distracted for a moment— a moment too long, in your boyfriend’s opinion. 

He clicks his tongue and tugs at your hair from the roots, drawing a surprised whimper from you. It takes you a moment to register that he’s pulled you off his cock, leaving you gulping for air. He tilts your head back until you’re looking straight at him. 

“I thought you wanted to make me feel good, baby,” he says, injecting just the perfect trace of disappointment in his tone. 

“I do,” you whine as your fingers dig into his thighs. “Wanna make you feel better.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then get me off properly.” 

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. He uses his grasp on your hair to practically shove you back down, the head of his cock slamming the back of your throat. A sound of surprise escapes you, but it comes out more as a strangled gasp. 

“There you go,” he praises. “Don’t piss me off, yeah?”  

This time, Lando guides your head’s movements, each thrust calibrated to have you gagging on his cock. You cough and sputter but you take it like a goddamn champ, knowing this was something your boyfriend needed. And when it came to each other’s needs, the two of you would always be more than willing to give. 

At least Lando is a little more vocal now. You can make out the faint grunts he’s trying to keep under control, though you don’t know if it’s for the rest of the team’s benefit or the dominant front he’s trying to put up for you. 

When your teeth accidentally grazes sensitive skin, he lets out a tsk of disapproval. Immediately, his hand in your hair loosens; he moves to the lower half of your face instead. He yanks, pulling your jaw slack until your drool is pooling at the base of his cock. 

“Do I have to do everything out here?” he asks exasperatedly. 

It’s a rhetorical question, you’re sure. There’s no way for you to answer when Lando decides to take full control, to use your mouth in pursuit of his pleasure. He pistons into you, his hips pressing into your face with every forceful shove.

The tempo is a little more rough than you’re used to, but it’s not something you can’t handle. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you let Lando fuck your mouth, his litany of heated cusses not necessarily directed at you. 

“Terrible fucking day,” he hisses, “but at least I get this pretty little mouth at the end of it all.” 

The sheer obscenity of his words has you clenching around nothing. You rub your thighs together to chase some semblance of friction. Lando notices, unfortunately for you. 

He lets out a breathless laugh, the sound bordering cruel. “Need something, baby?” he taunts, delivering a particularly sharp thrust that makes you feel like the breath had been punched out of you. “Tell me, and I’ll give you what you need.” 

It’s downright pathetic, how tears have started to edge at your lash line. You’re not about to tell Lando anything, not with the way he’s ramming his cock down your throat. 

“Can’t speak?” he coos, his grip at your jaw tightening. “Guess you don’t want it enough.” 

He punctuates the jeer with a more punishing pace, one that has you clawing at the sides of his thighs. Not in protest— the two of you have rules set for that sort of thing— but as a silent plea of your own. 

Lando gets the message. 

“Should I finish down your throat?” he purrs.

You barely manage to bob your head up and down in a nod. He laughs again, though this one catches in his throat as his cock twitches in your mouth. He’s close, you can tell. Barely hanging on. 

“Take it,” he grunts. “Every last drop, baby, ‘cause next time I’m filling up that cunt of yours—” 

He breaks off into a loud moan. You feel the hot ropes of his release coating your tongue, flooding your mouth with the taste you swallow unquestioningly. 

Lando slows his thrusts and evens out his breathing. After sufficiently gathering his bearings, he releases your jaw to grab your shoulders instead; gently hauling you up off the floor until you’re half-seated on his lap and the couch. 

Immediately, he’s kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth. You whine lowly at the prospect of him tasting himself, at how filthy and shameless this was turning out to be. Neither of you pull away until you have to, both your chests heaving from a shortage of air. 

Your tongue darts out to trace your swollen lips. “Are you feeling better?” you ask shakily, pressing your sweat-slick forehead against Lando’s. 

“Much better,” he responds as his hands run over your sides in a soothing gesture. 

He pauses, thoughtful, before leaning in for a much more languid kiss. He murmurs the next words against your mouth, that familiar affection making a reappearance now that the worst of the storm has passed. 

“I’m the fucking best,” he whispers reverently, “all because of you.” ⛐

[beah388love]

SHHHHH!!!

Full Masterlist Formula 1 Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Summary: Lando telling Ginge and max to be quiet cause your sleeping during the stream.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of killer documentary (if I have missed any please tell me!!!)

Lando had a random message from max f, asking if he wanted to join them on fortnite. A quick stream.

Lando was coincidentally bored, he didn't have much to do - you was watching a serial killer documentary that he found disturbing and boring. he knew damn well you would tell him all the gory things as well once you finished it.

Lando typed a quick thumbs up emoji and a 'sure mate'

You was like lando said, sprawled out on the sofa with some gummy bears. watching the new gory documentary. Lando leant over the sofa and placed a small kiss on your head "i'm gonna go stream, call me if you need me"

you give him a nod and a small mumble, all your attention on the documentary. he rolls his eyes at your intense focus on it.

he walks off to your bedroom, sitting at his gaming setup and putting his headset on. Making sure the stream is all working good and sturff.

Once that's all sorted, he finally hears ginge and max’s voices

Ginge let out a loud "Ahhhhh! Theres me' man." Lando laughs lightly and sits back in his chair "im here. im here."

Ginge sighs dramatically "yeah- finally."

lando rolls his eyes and laughs, Ginge huffs "Right- C'mon, Start the bloody game"

About half an hour goes by. your documentary finished. you let out a tired yawn, rubbing your eyes. they hurt from staring at the tv so long. you could already hear lando's speech about you watching tv too much.

You yawned again and grabbed the blanket that was on the sofa, tiredly standing up and wrapping it around you, waddling to the bedroom where lando was streaming.

You quietly open the door, stepping to him. he had his headset on so didn't notice you until he felt your tap on his shoulder

he softened and let out a small chuckle when he saw you, eyes droopy and the blanket wrapped around you. "You look comfy" You don't even respond, a yawn beating you to it. making lando laugh

He opens his arms, scooting his gaming chair back a little. He mutes his mic.

You settle into his lap, your chest to his. your face buried in his neck and the blanket now wrapped around you both.

Lando kisses your head softly "you okay for me to keep the camera and mic on?" he asks quietly. letting his hand caress your back under your hoodie.

You hum a yes against his neck and he nods even though he knows you can't see it. Lando turns his mic back on and keeps the camera on. the stream chat was spammed with comments

user1: Oh My GOD user2: WHO CAN LIPREAD?! user3: I WANNA KNOW WHAT HES SAYINGGGGGGG user4:i wish i was her so bad rn

Lando ignores the stream, focused on his game with ginge and max. their voices loud in his ear.

Ginge lets out an amused gasp when he spots lando's screen "Is that my favourite lass?"

Lando rolls his eyes and gives a small nose scrunch at the loud gasp ginge made. lando smiles a little "yep. she's pretty much asleep." ginge groans "awh- can she hear me?" Lando looks down to you, poking your back gently, where he was stroking. "can you hear ginge?"

You nod against his shoulder, a tired grin on your face "unfortunately" you mumble which earns an offended gasp from ginge.

Ginge scoffs "UH- EXSCUSE ME? DON'T YOU EVER- EVER EVER. SIT THERE, IN YOUR CHAIR- AND BE MEAN TO ME" (please tell me u get the reference)

Lando was laughing his head off, trying not to jostle you by him laughing so hard. you sigh tiredly but can't help the big smile on your lips...after all, ginge is funny.

Ginge chuckles "Nah i can't believe that. I thought we had somefink going!" ginge jokes, like usual. an inside joke.

Lando scrunches his face at ginge speaking louder than before, so you could hear ginge. "ah!- jesus christ"

Ginge chuckles "what? i gotta let her hear me!"

Lando laughs and rubs his ears, moving one of the headphones behind his ear and not directly on. "she can! i think the whole world can!"

Max laughs and scrunches his face as well at the noise “yeah man- I think I’ll have to get earplugs with my headphones, geez.”

a few minutes go by and you fell asleep on lando, your head rested on his shoulder, your cheek squished and most of your hair covering your face, so thankfully the the stream wouldn't get too many screenshots.

Lando noticed you had fallen asleep, but wasn't deep asleep yet. ginge and max’s laughs or yells making you stir ever so slightly.

Lando interrupts them "oi!- guys quiet down a little" lando says quietly but ginge and max yell at eachother over him.

Lando rolls his eyes with a small grin, and does a loud whisper "SHHHH", moving his finger to his lips jokingly.

Ginge chuckles quietly "Oh shit- is she asleep?"

Lando smiles and nods "yep. out cold."

Ginge nods and him and max quiet down, not wanting to disturb you.

They bite their fists and ginge punches the air when he dies in the game, not shouting because he doesn't wanna wake you up.

"damnit" ginge grumbles making lando smirk.

Ginge rolls his eyes with a grin "why's she so tired anyways?"

Lando tuts as he focuses on the game, "she's been watching this new serial killer documentary for the whole day. literally binged watched the whole series"

Ginge chuckles "ah that makes sense. such a y/n thing. i think out of anyone i know, she'd be the one to watch shit like that"

Lando chuckles and nods "yep. i have to listen to het tell me all the gory details" he says through a grimace

Ginge laughs lightly, "mh. I'd watch your back with her mate."

"looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill ya, ya know what i mean?" ginge says with a funny grin.

Making lando laugh high pitched, his signiature laugh. Lando smirks and jokes "tastes like one too"

Ginge grimaces and groans "Ah! Lando- you pervert! TMI"

Max grimaces as well "i wanna be who i was before i heard that"

[satellite-evans]

his person

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: you are lando’s person <3

Word count: 2.3k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

If you asked anyone — anyone who’d known Lando even half as well as the world thought it did — who his best friend was, the answer came easy, automatic, like muscle memory.

Max Fewtrell.

It was almost too obvious. They’d been inseparable since their karting days — the kind of friendship that was stitched together with inside jokes, shared playlists, matching scars from dumb teenage stunts, and years of standing side by side through wins and wipeouts. They were co-founders of Quadrant, partners in crime both on and off the track, the human embodiment of controlled chaos whenever a Twitch stream went live or an Instagram story popped up. If you ever bet on who knew Lando best — who could read him like a page out of his own life — your money was safe on Max.

But if you asked Lando — really asked him — his answer wouldn’t even take a breath.

“It’s her,” he’d say, soft but steady. Certain.

“It’s always her.”

You.

The girl who had known him before the podiums, before the fame, before the world chanted his name like a stadium-wide heartbeat. The one who saw through the swagger and the quick wit, the one who called him out when his ego got a little too comfortable, and who held him up when the weight of expectation became too much for one pair of shoulders to carry alone. His girlfriend, yes. But more than that. His person. His safe place. His best friend in every sense of the word.

And God, Lando could never seem to shut up about you.

It was an unspoken rule among his circle — one that started as eye-rolls and playful jabs but eventually softened into quiet acceptance. Your name had a habit of slipping into conversations without warning, as if his mind couldn't help but orbit around you even when you weren’t there. His engineers learned to expect it, Max would mock him with exaggerated groans, but none of it ever stopped him.

“Mate, we asked about tire strategy, not your girlfriend,” his race engineer would tease over the radio mid-practice, when his focus momentarily drifted.

And Lando, without missing a beat, would just laugh — the kind of laugh that sounded like pure ease, like home.

“Same thing, really,” he’d reply, grinning under the helmet. “She keeps me grounded. Technically part of the setup.”

On race weekends, it didn’t matter how chaotic the paddock got, how many fans called his name, or how tightly his schedule was packed. His eyes would always search the crowd — cutting through the noise, the flashing cameras, the blur of faces — until they landed on you. Like some unspoken radar tuned to a single frequency.

“There you are,” he’d mumble every single time, pulling you into his arms, cameras be damned. “Took me forever to find you.”

“You walked straight toward me, Lando,” you’d laugh against his chest, your voice the one sound that always, always managed to quiet his racing thoughts.

“Still felt too long,” he’d whisper, pressing his lips to your hair like that simple touch could steady the adrenaline still roaring through his veins.

You weren’t just the girl he loved. You were his favorite adventure. His co-op player. His partner in every messy, beautiful, unfiltered part of his life. Nights were spent tangled together on the couch, feet tucked under each other, controllers in hand, or phones abandoned on the table as you scrolled through old memes, trading soft jokes and lazy kisses. But the best part was always the silence. The ease of it. The kind of quiet that didn’t need filling, because being with you — just being — felt like the world had finally clicked into place.

And when the world outside got too loud — when the weight of expectation grew heavier than a leaden race suit, and headlines tried to script his story before he even had a chance to live it — it was always you he turned to.

“Do you think I’m doing enough?” he asked one night, voice quieter than the hum of the television, exhaustion settling deep into his bones after another long, hard-fought weekend. His head rested on your lap, and your fingers moved through his curls with slow, absent strokes — the kind that said I’m here, without needing the words.

“You’ve always been enough,” you answered, not even hesitating. “Wins don’t make you, Lando. You do.”

And something in his chest softened — like your words had reached places even his own self-belief couldn’t always touch. He looked up at you then, eyes warm, like he was trying to memorize the exact way you said it, the exact way it felt to be loved by you.

“See, this is why you’re my best friend.”

You smirked, playful but sincere. “Oh, I thought it was because I make better toast than Max.”

“That too,” he grinned, and it was the kind of grin that reached his eyes — the real one, the one that didn’t need cameras or podiums. “But mostly because you’re the only person who makes this whole crazy life make sense.”

And you always would.

Because even on the days when the world felt like it was spinning too fast, when the pressure of living under a microscope crept too close, you were there. Not with solutions or speeches — just you. Existing. Holding space for him the way only you could.

You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers slow and familiar. “You know,” you murmured, “I don’t think anyone will ever understand you the way I do.”

“I don’t want anyone else to,” Lando replied, quiet but sure. “They’d get it all wrong.”

There was a pause, but the comfortable kind — the kind that wrapped around you both like a blanket, no need for more words. His hand found yours, thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against your skin, the rhythm steady, grounding.

“You’re stuck with me, you know,” you teased, squeezing his fingers gently. “For life.”

His lips quirked, soft and lopsided. “Good,” he whispered. “That’s exactly the plan.”

Race weekends always had a way of making that feeling even stronger — like the noise and the speed and the stakes only sharpened the way Lando looked at you, like the world could be spinning at 300 kilometers an hour and still, his attention would only ever settle on you.

You stood by the garage, tucked slightly out of the way, half-hidden behind a stack of equipment cases as the paddock moved around you in its usual, barely controlled frenzy. Journalists darted between interviews, chasing headlines with mics stretched out like fishing rods. Cameras tracked every flicker of expression on every driver’s face, lenses hungry for a story in a single glance. Engineers, crew members, mechanics — they weaved through the maze of people like clockwork, hands full of telemetry sheets and radios, their minds a million miles away, deep in calculations and split-second decisions.

And then, there was Lando.

The second his eyes found you through the blur of it all — the sponsors, the fans, the pre-race nerves knotted beneath his skin — everything else seemed to fall away. His entire posture shifted, tension melting from his shoulders as that unmistakable, boyish grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. The smile that wasn’t for the cameras, or the sponsors, or the sea of people waiting for autographs — the one that was just for you.

Like clockwork, he jogged toward you, cutting through the paddock like gravity had decided to rewrite the rules, yanking him toward the only place he ever really wanted to be.

“There’s my good luck charm,” he greeted, voice bright but edged with exhaustion and adrenaline — the kind that no amount of coffee or sleep could fully shake before a race. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, the contact lingering longer than it probably should have given the dozens of eyes watching, but Lando had never cared much about timing when it came to you.

“You should probably be focusing on the race,” you teased, fingers finding the zipper of his suit, giving it the lightest of tugs, grounding him even as the rest of the world tried to pull him in a hundred different directions.

“I am,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, those warm eyes locking onto yours like they always did. “You’re the best part of it.”

And the way he said it — soft, steady, without even a hint of his usual playful sarcasm — left no room for superstition or charm. Just the truth, plain and simple.

You reached up, brushing your fingers along the edge of his balaclava, adjusting it slightly before your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, a familiar and quiet ritual between the two of you — like you were handing him the last piece of calm before the chaos.

“Go win,” you murmured, your voice low but sure. “I’ll be right here.”

“You better be,” he said, stepping backward, reluctant but smiling, his eyes still drinking you in like he could store the moment away for later. His race engineer’s voice crackled over the comms, pulling him back to reality, but even as he turned to go, he glanced back — once, twice — like the distance between you was the only thing that ever felt wrong.

And when he finally climbed into the car, helmet on, gloves tightened, visor down — the world might have narrowed to tire temperatures and corner speeds, but you were still there. A fixed point. The face he’d always find, whether he crossed the finish line first or not.

Later that night, long after the champagne had dried on his race suit and the headlines had already written their version of the day, you and Lando found yourselves right where you always seemed to end up — curled up on the hotel balcony, wrapped up in a blanket you’d stolen from the foot of the bed, legs tangled together like the world didn’t exist beyond that little pocket of quiet.

The city stretched out below you, lights blinking lazily in the distance, but neither of you paid them much attention. His hand rested on your knee, your feet propped comfortably in his lap, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle — like his body hadn’t quite figured out how to sit still, even if his mind finally had.

For a while, you both just sat there, letting the silence settle. It wasn’t awkward or heavy — just easy. The kind of quiet that only ever existed between two people who didn’t need words to fill the gaps.

But of course, Lando couldn’t resist breaking it.

“You know,” he said eventually, voice light but thoughtful, “it’s kinda ridiculous, isn’t it?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “What is?”

He let out a soft, amused huff, like the thought had been bouncing around his head for hours. “I spend all day surrounded by thousands of people — cameras, fans, the whole circus — but the second I step out of the car, the only face I ever want to find is yours. Like some lovesick golden retriever.”

You snorted, nudging him with your elbow. “You? A golden retriever? Please. More like a raccoon hyped up on energy drinks.”

He laughed, head tipping back slightly, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair, but still. You’re basically my human GPS at this point. Doesn’t matter how big the crowd is, somehow I always spot you first.”

You tilted your head, playful but sincere. “Maybe I’ve just trained you well.”

“Oh, definitely. Pavlov would be proud.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess that makes two of us, though. I could be anywhere — grandstands, the grid, the middle of a fan mob — and my brain’s only ever tuned into you.”

He grinned at that, the kind of grin that was all soft cheeks and crinkled eyes, and for a second the teasing dropped away, leaving only something honest and quiet between you.

“God, look at us,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his. “Disgustingly sappy.”

“Max would be physically ill if he heard this conversation.”

“Max would disown me,” Lando agreed, lips quirking. “But he already knows I’m screwed when it comes to you. No point in pretending.”

You stretched your legs out, nudging his thigh with your foot. “You’ve been screwed since the moment I stole your fries that one time, haven’t you?”

He chuckled, shaking his head like the memory was still fresh. “That was the moment. I knew I was done for. Anyone who can steal the last fry and not feel guilty? Dangerous.”

You grinned, leaning your head back against his shoulder, your voice soft but full of playful affection. “And you let me do it anyway.”

“Let you?” he scoffed. “I offered. You just didn’t hear me over the sound of your victory.”

You both sat there for a second, wrapped up in that perfect kind of comfort that came from knowing — truly knowing — you belonged exactly where you were.

Then, without looking away from the view, you murmured, “You’re my person, you know.”

He glanced down at you, his hand finding yours under the blanket, fingers lacing through yours with a quiet certainty. “You’re mine too. Always have been.”

You turned your head, catching the soft, lopsided smile on his face — the one that always gave him away no matter how hard he tried to act cool. “I hope you know I’m keeping that in writing. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple, his voice lower, softer now. “Because I wouldn’t know how to be me without you.”

You leaned into him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear, and let the moment stretch. No flashbulbs. No roaring engines. Just the two of you.

And it hit you all over again, the same simple truth that always seemed to sit quietly at the center of everything: You weren’t just his girlfriend. And he wasn’t just your boyfriend.

You were each other’s person. The constant in the chaos. The soft place to land. And the best part of every single day.

Always.

[norrisradio]

MORNING LIGHT

LINE BY LINE ᝰ.ᐟ "for me, the sun rises and sets with her” - heat (1995)

ᝰ PAIRING: lando norris x reader | ᝰ WC: 1.4K ᝰ GENRE: fluff, lando is a man in looooove ᝰ INCOMING RADIO: love writing some cute little morning fics ꨄ︎ requested by anon!

send me an ask for my line by line event!

The sun isn’t what wakes him. It’s you—always you.

The press of your mouth against his shoulder, barely there, like the sunlight teasing its way through the blinds. You’re half-asleep, he knows. Just instinct, maybe. The way you breathe him in, the way your fingers search lazily beneath the duvet until they find the edge of his shirt and tug, just enough to remind him he belongs to you.

The room is golden with early light, the kind that slips through blinds in lazy slats, pooling over tangled sheets and sleepy limbs. You murmur something against his collarbone—nothing coherent, just a sound, soft and warm like honey. Your lips press there next, a featherlight kiss, like your dreams are still lingering on your tongue.

Lando hums low in his throat, chest rising under your cheek.

Lando doesn’t move at first. He just lies there, head turned toward you, heart betraying him with how easily it starts to pick up speed. There’s something reverent about mornings like this. Quiet. Sacred. The kind of quiet that tastes like you on his skin and smells like sleep still clinging to your pulse.

You hum—soft, drowsy, content—and your lips find the dip of his collarbone again, slower this time, like you know he’s fully awake now and want to see how far you can push him before he gives in.

He exhales sharply, low in his chest, and drags a hand over his face. “I have training,” he mutters, though it sounds more like a plea for mercy than a protest.

Your leg slides over his, warm and bare and absolutely criminal. “No, you have me.”

He cracks a grin despite himself. Dangerous, the way you say it. Soft as a secret. Sweet as sin.

He should get up. Really, he should.

But your fingertips are sketching lazy circles against his ribs now, and there’s a sigh caught in your throat that spills onto his skin like prayer. Like ritual. Like this—waking up with you—is how his day begins and how it should begin, every time.

And maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s dramatic, but Lando swears the whole damn world starts turning only when you open your eyes.

For me, the sun rises and sets with her.

He doesn’t even know where he first heard it—some poem, some movie, something Charles probably teased him for bookmarking in his notes app—but it lingers in his brain like a truth he’s always known. Etched between every kiss you press to his chest and every second he spends watching the light shift across your face.

“You’re staring,” you whisper, voice gravelled by sleep. You don’t open your eyes, but your lips twitch, amused.

“Can you blame me?” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over the line of your jaw. You nuzzle into it like a cat, smug and glowing, and he’s a goner, honestly. Has been for a while.

The room is warm with the soft weight of morning. You curl deeper into him, your breath fanning over the base of his throat, and Lando thinks about skipping training again. Thinks about how much faster the day will move once you leave this bed, how quickly the sun sets when you’re not by his side.

He tangles a hand in your hair, tilts his mouth to your temple. “Stay like this a little longer.”

You nod, already halfway asleep again, and he closes his eyes too, holding on to this suspended moment—where nothing else matters, where the world hasn’t started yet.

The quiet stretches longer. The sun climbs higher, spilling over the windowsill, lighting the room in hues of gold and amber. The sheets are tangled, your legs still wrapped around his, a quiet reminder that you exist in his space—and that, for a moment, it’s enough.

But the world doesn’t wait forever.

Lando shifts beneath you, groaning in protest as he pulls himself upright. His hair is a mess, curls sticking up in every direction, and his eyes are still half-closed, stubbornly clinging to sleep even as his hands rub at his face. He glances at you, and for a second, it’s as if he’s deciding if he can get away with one more hour of nothingness.

“Training,” he mutters, this time with a little more resolve, but even as the words leave his mouth, his hand reaches for you, pulling you closer, just a little. “I don’t want to go,” he admits, a smile curling the edges of his lips, soft and teasing.

You roll your eyes, but the smile that tugs at your mouth betrays you. “You have to, baby. You’re the one who signed up for this.”

“Yeah, well… I didn’t sign up for mornings without you.” His voice dips, a playful whine that makes your heart flutter. He’s barely even trying to hide the affection in it, and you’re completely powerless to resist.

You yawn, stretching out beside him. The blanket drapes over your shoulders, and Lando watches as you tug it tighter around yourself, still in his oversized hoodie, sleeves falling over your hands like a child playing dress-up. It’s absurdly endearing, and even more so when you look at him from beneath your lashes, the corners of your mouth tugged into a lazy, content smile.

He groans, dramatically rolling out of bed. “If I stay here any longer, I’ll just fall asleep on the floor. You know I can’t handle a day without you in it.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” you tease, your voice thick with sleep, but there’s warmth in it too, something that matches the quiet brightness of the morning.

He stands for a moment, watching you with a smirk, and you lift an eyebrow, daring him to make the move. Lando’s about to head to the kitchen to start breakfast—probably something simple, something rushed, like scrambled eggs or burnt toast—but he pauses. His gaze flickers back to the bed, then to you again.

“You know,” he starts, taking a few slow steps toward you, “there’s no law that says I can’t spend the whole day with you. Like, nothing says I can’t cancel training and just stay here, right?” He drops back down next to you, the bed creaking with his weight.

You laugh, snuggling deeper into the warmth of his chest. “You’re terrible.”

“And you love it,” he grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mm, I might love it more if you actually knew how to make toast,” you say, your voice teasing, a reminder of how normal, how human this all feels.

Lando groans, squinting towards the kitchen. “I can absolutely make toast. It’s just—” He stops. You hear the faint crackle of the bread burning in the toaster. “...Okay, maybe I can’t.”

You laugh outright at the sound of him frantically trying to salvage breakfast, and your heart softens. He’s a mess, but he’s your mess.

“I’ll make something when you’re gone,” you call out, already pulling yourself upright, his hoodie falling off your shoulders.

“Don’t you dare make me miss you more,” he warns, voice still carrying that affectionate, lazy edge. But the sight of you, sleepy and wrapped in his clothes, looking a little like a dream, makes the thought of leaving you even harder.

You push yourself to your feet, and he grabs your wrist with a quick tug, pulling you back toward him. “No goodbye kiss?”

You roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “You can’t even make toast without burning it, Lando, so how about you work on that first?”

With a playful growl, he pulls you down again, his lips catching yours in a kiss—slow, lingering, full of that quiet affection that’s impossible to put into words. It tastes like the morning, warm and easy and utterly, completely his.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be good,” he mutters against your lips, finally pulling back and looking at you with that smile. “But I really don’t want to go.”

“Go,” you whisper, running a finger down his jaw, the smile on your face softening, “and then come back to me. It’s just another day, right?”

And Lando, with one last kiss on your forehead, finally rises from the bed—dragging his feet like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done—but not without casting one last glance at you.

"Another day," he agrees softly, watching you disappear into the kitchen to grab your coffee. And for him, the rest of the world is just noise.

The day only truly begins when the sun rises with you.

[checkeredflagggs]

A Bet is a Bet

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: Lando didn’t know a bet would lead him to her, y/n didn’t know that accepting his proposal would lead to forever

a/n:it’s always fun to write Lando because I kinda really like to gently bully him 😂

a/n: one day I’ll write a Lando piece that doesn’t absolutely get away from me but today is apparently not that day

Masterlist | Taglist

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 827,824 others

f1gossip: Following Max’s Championship win and George’s race win, several drivers were spotted out partying in Las Vegas’ prolific club scene! Additionally, eagle eyes have spotted a despondent Lando drinking as his championship hopes were dashed tonight.

view all comments

user1: not the gossip page absolutely dragging Lando 😬😬😬

user2: don’t really blame Lando for being a little sad — unlikely as it was he’d win, there was a slight chance

↳user3: especially with how god awful redbull’s car has been this year…

user4: loving the contrast of George and Max drinking their hearts out to celebrate and Lando drinking to forget

↳user5: that’s so cruel

↳user4: true though

user6: ok so i think im at the same club as them and im pretty sure i just saw lando hugging a crying women??

↳user7: what??

↳user6: idk man im just a casual fan (shout out to Charles for being so pretty — saw an edit of him and fell in love)

↳user6: but i saw someone who looked like lando? Comforting someone who was sobbing their heart out

↳user7: I’m so confused and I need to know what happens next

user8: 🤬🤬 fuck

↳user9: what??

↳user8: I just got pushed down by a couple rushing by me!

↳user10: well fuck them I guess?

↳user8: I think that’s what they’re gonna do, yes.

Private Messages, Max F. and Lando

Snapchat

Private Messages, Lando and ???

landonorris has posted a story, yn_user has posted a story

[🍾🍾][💍💍]

maxfewtrell replied WHAT ARE YOU DOING

maxfewtrell replied I SPECIFICALLY SAID DONT GET ACTUALLY MARRIED

maxfewtrell replied OH MY GOD ANSWER YOUR STUPID PHONE

user11 replied did you get married

user12 replied the Vegas curse strikes again!

oscarpiastri replied please tell me this is just an aesthetic photo

↳oscarpiastri please I can’t be responsible for reporting this back to Zak and Stella

alex_albon replied oh my god thanks man! I had money on you being the one to get drunk married in Vegas

yourbff replied what the fuck girl??

yourbff replied did you get married last night?

↳yn_user …I think I did

↳yn_user my god my head

↳yourbff drinks! Stat

↳yn_user only if drinks stands for coffee

↳yn_user and make it a double — my husband (???)(!!!) wants one too

Private Messages, Max F. and Lando

landonorris

liked by yn_user, yourbff, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen1, and 1,234,224 others

landonorris: thanks Vegas! This year was so much more fun than last year! Can’t wait to see what next year brings

view all comments

user13: MARRIED??

user14: omg god he’s actually married 😭😭

user15: what kind of delulu manifesting brought this on???

↳user16: right?? I need some of it in my life

↳user17: a big old healthy dose of it

maxfewtrell: Next year better be the calmest year yet

↳yn_user: where’s the fun in that? liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1

↳maxfewtrell: my heart rate would appreciate it more

maxverstappen1: well I guess congratulations are in order?

↳landonorris: thanks man!

georgerussell63: You got married??

↳landonorris: I did! She’s great — you’re gonna love her

↳georgerussell63: Really?

↳maxfewtrell: she spent the first 10 minutes (hungover) after meeting me bullying me about my accent, my clothing, the way I walked, and how I took my coffee liked by yn_user, landonorris

↳georgerussell63: Oh dear

↳maxverstappen1: oh I’m gonna love her. she coming to Qatar?

↳landonorris: that’s the plan!

↳maxverstappen1: fly out with me

cisca_norris: oh man I’m telling mom!

↳landonorris: No! Wait!

↳cisca_norris: too late!

Private Messages, Lando and his Parents

Private Messages, y/n and yourbff

yn_user

liked by landonorris, yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 1,253 others

tagged: landonorris

yn_user: got drunk, got married, flew to Qatar to watch him drive!

view all comments

yourbff: send me some of that luck please

↳yn_user: certainly!

↳yourbff: only the good stuff though — you keep your bad luck to yourself

landonorris: thanks for coming out to see that I’m more than an uber driver

↳maxfewtrell: she did not

↳yn_user: oh I absolutely did! But now I see it’s more like European NASCAR

↳landonorris: I’ve changed my mind. Please leave

↳yn_user: too late! I’ve already burned the certificate — no returns

oscarpiastri: nice to meet you 👍🏻

↳yn_user: you too! I’m rooting for you!

↳landonorris: what???

↳yn_user: you told me to pick a favorite driver!

↳landonorris: I told you to come watch your favorite driver! Me!

↳yn_user: but he’s Australian! Like Steve Irwin!

↳landonorris: …that’s not how you pick a favorite driver!

↳oscarpiastri: stop being mean to my fans!

↳yn_user: landonorris if you say so I guess…

↳yn_user: then I’ll pick max cause he’s got lovely cats and was kind enough to fly us out!

↳maxverstappen1: great to have another fan!

↳landonorris: nO!

user18: I’ve had her for a day but if anything happens to her I’ll everyone else then myself

↳user20: big mood

↳yn_user: I say this with sincerity — please seek help 🙏

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 628,826 others

f1gossip: we finally have some answers on Lando’s unexpected marriage!

“What does it mean? What? That we got married last weekend? Well it means we got drunk and got married but ya know during break, yeah during break we’re already planning getting divorced but just didn’t have the time beforehand. So that’s something that’s gonna be happening soon.”

So it seems like this is just a typical Vegas marriage story after all!

view all comments

user21: im sorry but thats so funny??

↳user22: right?

↳user23: i didn’t think this was something that happened in real life??

↳user24: same

user25: i love how he phrased it though

↳user26: it’s just…Lando. Like of course you got drunk married and is just joking about it now

↳user27: I mean there's not much else he can do until they can get divorced?

yn_user

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 214,294 others

tagged: landonorris

yn_user: what a fun way to end the year! Congrats hubby — what a win!

view all comments

user28: I swear she was more excited for Lando’s win then he was 😂

↳user29: the way she was clinging to Lando’s mom like the entire race though 🤣🤣

landonorris: thanks for coming! And cheering for the correct driver this time around

↳maxverstappen1: she didn’t have redbull merch on?

↳landonorris: nah that’s been banned from this household liked by yn_user

user30: ok but I need her makeup brands? Cause that shit didn’t budge a bit

↳yn_user: I’ll dm you!

↳user30: thank you queen 🙏

yourbff: glad to know you’re having fun when you abandoned me…

↳yn_user: dw we’re on the way back so we can start the divorce paperwork

↳yourbff: good i need my bff back

↳landonorris: still my girl!

↳yourbff: I’ll fight you for her 🥊

Private Messages, Max and Lando

Text — we decided that we wanted to stay married because we actually like each other and want to see where this goes

landonorris

liked by yn_user, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 1,283,123 others

tagged: yn_user

landonorris: honeymoon time!

view all comments

user31: i thought it was divorce time?

↳user32: ok but like what happened?

↳user31: im guessing they actually fell in love

↳user32: if that’s true, that’s so cute

oscarpiastri: I don’t think that was the plan?

↳landonorris: there’s no plans when your in love

↳yn_user: that’s so sappy

↳landonorris: only for you!

↳oscarpiastri: on my comment thread? Really?

user33: ok which one of us is gonna turn this into the romcom it desperately needs to be?

↳user34: I volunteer as tribute

maxfewtrell: Lando answer your phone!

↳landonorris: sorry I’m on vacation! No service!

↳maxfewtrell: Lando! liked by yn_user

yourbff: stop stealing my best friend!

↳landonorris: she’s my wife!

↳yourbff: she was mine first!

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user and 839,293 others

f1gossip: catching up with lando again, we got the gossip on the abrupt change of heart regarding his Vegas wife!

“Yeah we just, you know we talked about it and how we felt and we know it’s kinda crazy — actually really crazy but you know we just felt like this was it? Like I just know that loving her is gonna be the easiest thing I’m ever gonna do. So yeah we got to Vegas and got a lawyer to help start the divorce and as we were talking about it we realized that we didn’t actually want to separate. So we’re still together and I want it to stay that way, forever. Like she’s gonna be it for me.”

view all comments

user35: holy shit he is in LOVE love

user36: “I just know loving her is gonna be the easiest thing I’ve ever done” like could someone run me over? Cause I feel like that would hurt less

↳user37: that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever read!

↳user38: I’m loving this Lando — he’s glowing!

user39: “we’re still together and I want it to stay that way, forever” like oh my god he’s so in love he’s writing poetry

user40: I want this kind of fucking love

user41: he’s writing poetry for her and i can’t even get one to text me back 😭

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yn_user, mclaren and 1,728,234 others

tagged: yn_user

landonorris: the top step is made even better with my lucky charm here with me! Thank you yn_user for your love and support 🧡

comments have been limited on this post

yourbff: now you’re just mocking me

↳landonorris: yup!

yn_user: love you too you muppet…even if you aren’t an uber driver…

↳landonorris: I guess that’s better than a nascar driver…

↳yn_user: well I checked and Chris Bell is taken so…

↳landonorris: 😑😑😑

maxfewtrell: great race man!

↳landonorris: thanks for being there!

↳maxfewtrell: gladly! I’ll be there for any of them but Vegas. Cause I’m not going there again

↳yn_user: scared of a little city?

↳maxfewtrell: yes.

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @evie-119 @sugarfreerbr @princessesgarden @tukes @mayax2o07 @teti-menchon0604 @galaxygurlll @star73807-blog @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @lilymaleshka @kuolonsyoja @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @hannahmotors10 @moonypixel @nikfigueiredo @daisydaze111 @deephideoutmilkshake @loveyahachoo @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[inkandapex]

everytime

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary: Lando never learns, no matter how many times he says 'never again,' he somehow always ends up in the middle of his girlfriend’s pranks.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: swearing

Excuse me

The phone was propped up just right, hidden in plain sight, quietly recording as Y/N lounged on the couch, bundled in a blanket, remote in hand, eyes fixed on the TV like nothing was out of the ordinary.

She fought to keep a straight face. A few nights ago, mid-doom scroll while waiting for Lando to come back from a night out, she stumbled across a TikTok trend that instantly caught her attention: girlfriends wiping away kisses from their boyfriends. The dramatic reactions were hilarious, and knowing just how pouty Lando could get, she had to try it for herself.

It was the perfect setup. Lando was getting ready to head out for a padel game with a few friends, and like clockwork, their usual goodbye ritual included a quick kiss before either of them left.

“Baby, I’m about to head out,”

Right on cue, Lando walked into the frame—duffle bag slung over his shoulder, eyes glued to his phone. He strolled over to the couch, plopping down beside Y/N without looking up.

“Do you wanna grab dinner tonight after I get back?” he asked, finally setting his phone aside to look at her. “Or should I just bring something home?”

She tilted her head, pretending to think it over as casually as she could.

“I don’t mind grabbing food if you’re not too tired,” she replied with a soft smile.

“Perfect.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Alright, I’m gonna go. Text me if you need anything.”

As soon as he stood, she slowly reached up and wiped her cheek with her sweater, just noticeably enough.

“Excuse me?”

Lando froze mid-step, his mouth hanging open in dramatic disbelief.

She looked up at him innocently, barely holding back a laugh at how deeply offended he already looked.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? You just wiped off my kiss!”

“I didn’t! I was just itchy,” she said, barely containing her grin.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Lando leaned in again, this time pressing a slower, more deliberate kiss to her cheek.

He pulled back, eyes locked on her, waiting.

And, just like before, she reached for her cheek and wiped it off.

“Baby!” he groaned, collapsing back onto the couch, completely betrayed.

Y/N burst out laughing.

“Lan, go! You’re gonna be late!”

“Are you mad at me? What—was it the stubble? I can shave it off,” he said dramatically, grabbing her hand.

“Oh my god…” she shook her head, completely amused.

“Do you not want me to leave? I can cancel. I’ll stay, we can talk—”

“Lando!” she laughed, cutting him off. “It’s a joke, my love. It’s a prank.”

“You muppet,” Lando said, giving her a gentle shove before grabbing a pillow and swatting her side with it. “You actually had me worried for a minute.”

Y/N was still doubled over, breathless from laughter, clutching her stomach as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. The prank had worked way better than she expected.

She was mid-wipe, dabbing at her tears, when she saw him heading for the door, bag slung over his shoulder, keys in hand.

“Wait! You’re really leaving? No goodbye kiss for me?” she called out with a grin.

Lando scoffed, shaking his head as he slid his shoes on. “Already gave you two and you wiped both of them off. You’ll survive a couple hours without one.”

And with that, he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Still giggling, Y/N pushed herself up and made her way over to the hidden phone. She was just about to stop the recording when the door suddenly swung open again.

“Back so soon?” she teased.

Without a word, Lando strode toward her, gently took her face in his hands, and kissed her. Soft, warm, and lingering just long enough to make her melt.

“I’m still mad at you,” he muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head before finally heading out for real this time.

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

Say it back

It was the end of a triple header, and Y/N had flown back to their Monaco apartment after the second weekend. She hadn’t seen Lando in a full week, which meant nightly FaceTime calls as soon as he wrapped up his post-race responsibilities.

It was the night before Lando’s flight home. He was lying on his side in his hotel bed, phone in hand, laptop propped up on the bedside table, camera angled perfectly for their usual call. He was casually scrolling through his phone, waiting on a text from Carlos to head out for dinner. Y/N was doing the same, her iPad balanced nearby as she sorted through the closet.

She wasn’t just passing time—she had a prank planned, and she needed Lando to hang up first so she could pull it off.

She finally heard the ping from his phone. Lando sat up and glanced at the screen.

“Just got the text from Carlos, baby. I’ll call you when I get back,” he said, moving closer to his laptop.

Y/N mirrored him, pulling her iPad closer and giving a small wave. “Have fun! Tell Carlos I said hi.”

“I will,” he smiled. “I love you, I’ll call you later.”

She immediately taps the screen, ending their call.

She stared at the now-black iPad screen, biting her lip to keep from grinning too hard. Not even thirty seconds passed before it started ringing again—Lando’s contact flashing across the screen. The hidden camera on the shelf beside her caught the whole thing.

“Watch him whine,” she mumbled to herself, quickly schooling her expression before picking up.

“Yes, Lan—”

“—I think the call cut off, baby,” he interrupted. This time, he was on his phone, holding it close. “I said I love you and that I was gonna call you as soon as I’m back from dinner.”

“I heard you, Lan,” she said sweetly. “I’ll probably still be up when you call. Don’t worry. Go have fun, alright?”

He gave her a soft smile, now walking down the hotel hallway. “Alright, my love. I love you.”

“Okay, bye,” she replied with the same gentle smile—and ended the call again.

She let out a quiet laugh, fully expecting the phone to ring again.

And, as predicted, it did.

When she picked up this time, Lando was in the elevator, now wearing a dramatic pout.

“I love you,” he said, deadpan.

She laughed, finally letting her composure crack. “Okay, Lan, I heard you the first time.”

“Then say it back!” he whined, full puppy mode engaged.

She was full-on laughing now. “This is one of your pranks again, isn’t it?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in mock irritation.

“I’m glad at least one of us is having fun,” he muttered with a playful scoff.

“Alright, you big baby. I love you too,” she said, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled with a smirk, finally ending the call.

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

Come to bed

The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV as the two of them laid tangled together on the couch. The sound of their show played quietly in the background, but Lando had already yawned more than once in the last few minutes, his fingers twitching slightly where they were resting against her arm.

“You wanna move to the bedroom, love?” he mumbled, pulling away slightly to stretch, his voice thick with sleep. “We can keep watching there, I’m getting kinda tired.”

She hummed in acknowledgment but stayed exactly where she was, not budging an inch. That yawn? The perfect cue. Her mind was already spinning with mischief.

“I think I’ll sleep here tonight,” she said casually, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Lando’s head snapped toward her so fast it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. “…On the couch?”

“Yeah.” She kept her tone light, expression unreadable, fully committed to the bit.

He blinked at her, confusion furrowing across his face. Then, without another word, he grabbed the remote and turned the volume down until the room was almost silent.

“Wait, hold on—why?” he asked, his brows drawn together now, voice softer. “Did something happen?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, like it wasn’t that deep. “I just feel like sleeping out here.”

Lando stood up slowly, still watching her. She stared at the TV like she was completely serious.

She expected him to push back, maybe pout, or try to guilt her into coming to bed. But instead, he turned and walked off toward their bedroom.

She blinked, sitting up slightly. Had she actually taken it too far this time?

A minute later, she heard footsteps padding back down the hallway. Lando returned with an armful of pillows and the big blanket from their bed, dragging it all toward the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying not to laugh as he started arranging everything.

“Making up our bed,” he replied, fluffing a pillow and placing it at one end of the couch. “Since you’re set on sleeping here, I guess this is where we’re sleeping.”

She stared at him, completely caught off guard.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said through a small laugh. “You can go sleep in the bed, Lan. I didn’t say you had to sleep out here with me.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging as he smoothed out the blanket. “But I don’t want to sleep without you. So either we move to the bedroom, or I’m staying here.”

He looked up at her, eyes a little tired, a little soft. “Unless… are you mad at me? Did I do something?”

That was it. The guilt hit her instantly, followed by a wave of affection.

She sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hug, burying her face into his shoulder as she smiled. “It was a joke, baby. I was just messing with you,” she murmured. “But you’re so sweet, it actually hurts.”

Lando groaned dramatically, wrapping his arms around her like he was melting into her. “I hate you sometimes,” he muttered, but he was already smiling.

She pulled back just enough to kiss his cheek. “You love me.”

He sighed like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

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

Rent is due

Ever since moving in together, Lando had made one thing painfully clear—Y/N was not to worry about rent. No matter how many times she offered, no matter how many spreadsheets she pulled up with her “budget breakdown,” he stood firm, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug little grin. Her only job? Groceries. And even then, he often tried to sneakily pay for those too, claiming he “accidentally” tapped his card first.

That particular afternoon, she was elbows deep in flour and chocolate chips, humming to herself as she shaped the final batch of cookies. The apartment smelled like warm sugar and vanilla, and her camera was cleverly hidden behind a canister of flour, angled perfectly to catch his reaction.

She had seen the trend on TikTok a few days earlier: partners telling their significant others they couldn’t pay their half of the rent. And while technically she didn’t pay any rent to begin with, she knew Lando would absolutely fall for it.

The moment she got his text, “Be home in 5. Want 3 cookies. Minimum.”, she put her plan into motion.

As if on cue, the door clicked open and she heard the familiar sound of keys hitting the entryway bowl.

“In the kitchen!” she called out, casually sliding a warm cookie onto a plate like she hadn’t been plotting for days.

Lando walked in seconds later, still in his hoodie and cap, hair a little messy from his sim session. His eyes lit up the second he saw the cookies, practically tossing his keys onto the counter.

“They’re still warm,” she said sweetly, offering him one. “I’m about to put the last batch in.”

He took a bite, groaning dramatically as he leaned over the counter, melting like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. “You’re actually a witch,” he mumbled through the cookie. “A dangerous, cookie-making sorceress.”

She giggled and kept scooping dough onto the tray, timing her moment perfectly.

“I do have to tell you something though,” she said, lowering her voice just a touch and furrowing her brows for maximum effect.

Lando glanced up, still chewing, immediately on alert. “Okay… what’s up?”

She hesitated, pretending to avoid his eyes, fingers fiddling with the cookie dough scoop. “I, um… I don’t think I can pay rent this month.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I had to use the money for something else. It was urgent. I’m really sorry.”

“Baby… baby.” Lando sets his half-eaten cookie down slowly, like he’s afraid any sudden movements might make things worse. He gently takes the spoon from her hand, brows drawn together in full confusion.

“What are you talking about? Since when do you pay rent?” he asks, voice calm but clearly alarmed.

She looks him straight in the eye, her expression painfully serious. “Since I moved in. I’ve just… been sending my half directly to the landlord.”

Lando stares at her, blinking slowly. “What do you mean the landlord?”

She shrugs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “I messaged her when I first moved in, asked for her payment details. Been paying her every month since.”

His jaw drops, cookie forgotten in his hand. “Wait. Elodie? Elodie from downstairs? Our Elodie?!”

She nods casually, scooping more cookie dough like she didn’t just drop a bomb.

“Babe…” He drags a hand down his face, the kind of motion that screams I’m too pretty to be this stressed. “I pay her. I’ve been paying her. Full rent. On autopay. Every month.”

“Well,” she says with a shrug, “so have I.”

He groans, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Okay. Nope. I’m messaging her right now. She’s either been robbing us blind or you’ve been sending money to some random woman impersonating our landlord.”

Her eyes widen. “Wait—Lando. Lando, I was joking. It’s a prank, baby. A TikTok thing! Don’t message her!”

He freezes, thumb hovering over his screen. He slowly lifts his eyes to hers, blinking like he’s buffering. “You’re kidding?”

She nods, bursting into laughter. “Yes! Oh my god, you looked like you were about to write an angry landlord Yelp review.”

Lando tosses his phone onto the counter like it personally betrayed him. “Fuck me,” he mutters, picking up his half-eaten cookie and dramatically biting into it. “I genuinely thought we were bankrolling a secret apartment downstairs.”

She’s still laughing when he points the cookie at her. “You owe me. I want another dozen of these. For emotional damages.”

“Done,” she giggles, walking over to kiss his cheek. “Sorry for the stress, landlord.”

He groans again. “I swear, if I ever hear the word rent come out of your mouth again, I'm billing you in cookies.”

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

Watch it

After weeks of watching Lando get relentlessly pranked by his girlfriend, and loving every second of it, Max Fewtrell finally slid into her messages with a proposal.

“Tag me in for the next one. I’ve got ideas.”

They landed on a viral couple's prank: the partner’s best friend acts rude to the girlfriend to see how the boyfriend reacts. Simple. Effective. Potentially explosive.

The perfect setup unfolded one chill evening in Lando’s gaming room. All three were squeezed into frame on Max’s Twitch stream, headsets on, fingers flying over their keyboards as they played a chaotic round of Repo together.

Midway through a match, Max dramatically slammed his headset on the desk. “Fucking hell, mate, can we take five? My ears are bleeding from the strategic nonsense I’m hearing.”

He and Y/N exchanged a quick smirk. Game on.

“I’m gonna get some water,” Max said, standing up with a loud stretch.

“Could you get me some too?” she asked sweetly.

Max scoffed like she’d just asked him to run a marathon. “What do I look like, your butler? Get it yourself.”

Lando looked up so fast he nearly dropped his phone. His eyes flicked from Max to Y/N, brows furrowing. “I’ll get you water, baby,” he said immediately, standing and brushing past Max with a suspicious glance.

Max bit his lip to stop from laughing. Phase one: complete.

Back at their seats, they dove into another match. That’s when Max really turned it up.

“Christ, are you even trying?” he snapped at her mid-round. “It’s like playing with a blindfolded hamster.”

Y/N bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

Lando didn’t even blink. “Nah, she’s doing great. You just suck at support, mate.”

Max rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t pop out. “Support? I’m carrying this team!”

Still no reaction.

So Max went nuclear.

Another loss. Another dramatic sigh. “Right. I’m done. Y/N, Fuck You’re like deadweight”

Lando froze. His entire vibe shifted.

“Max.”

His voice was low. Too low.

Max blinked innocently. “What? She knows she’s bad.”

“No, mate,” Lando said, leaning forward, elbows on the desk, stare locked on Max like he was calculating how long it would take to physically throw him out. “Don’t talk to her like that. Seriously. You've been a dick the whole stream.”

Max tried to hold it together. “Mate, relax. I’m just saying—”

“I don’t care,” Lando snapped, slamming the mute button on the mic. “You don’t get to act like a complete twat just because we’re on stream. You think it’s funny to shit on her all night? Grow the fuck up.”

Max’s eyes widened as he looked over to Y/N for a lifeline.

Lando caught that too. “Don’t look at her! Apologize. Now.”

At that, Max and Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Lando’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

Max clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Mate. I thought you were about to physically eject me from the chair. Like WWE style.”

Y/N was doubled over laughing, wiping tears from her eyes.

Lando just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight. “I can’t believe I fell for that. You two are insufferable”

Max unmuted the mic, letting the stream hear their chaotic laughter. The chat was already spamming “PRANKED” and “protective Lando mode”

“I’m still sweating,” Max panted. “That vein in your forehead? It had its own heartbeat.”

Lando groaned. “You know what? Next time you both prank me, I’m calling your mum, Max. I swear.”

Y/N giggled, wrapping her arm around Lando. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I was ready to throw him out the apartment” Lando smirked, finally cracking.

[no-144444]

chapter three: blast from the past (l.n4)

summary: lando norris was a preppy asshole in secondary school, and you were the girl he despised. years later, you're a hot-shot sports lawyer rewriting the rules of the sport he calls home, and your paths cross, whether you want them to or not.

pairing: lando norris x fem! lawyer! reader

a/n: anything in orange and bold is the past/ in school

“Homework, Mr. Norris?” Mr. Catton was not one to be fucked with, and Lando had fallen asleep at 3am doing his biology homework. 

“See, the thing is sir-”

“Not good enough, Lando. I know you’re busy, but school is important too,” he shook his head. “Detention, my office. Lunchtime.” 

He let his head drop against his desk as he saw his teacher walk past. “Sir, I already have detention with Mrs. Daly at lunch,” he admitted, feeling all the eyes in the room on him. 

He sighed and placed a hand on Lando’s shoulder. “After school then. Just an hour-”

“Sir, I got a two hour detention last week-!” one of the other students, was his name Mark? Maybe Wayne. Lando didn’t know. But he did know that this would warrant a grudge, and Lando really didn’t want another 6’ rugby player to have a grudge against him.

“Sit down Mr. O’Brien!” Mr. Catton commanded. A chair scratched against the floor. “Mr. Norris is under exceptional circumstances.”

O’Brien scoffed. “More like exceptional advances-”

A cacophony of laughter erupted from his friend group, but it was silenced quickly by Mr. Catton quickly swerving his head. “What was that O’Brien?”  

“Nothing sir,” he cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“After school detention for a month,” Mr. Catton’s voice cut through the classroom. “I don’t care about your rugby team. You’re going to be scrubbing desks for me.” 

Lando looked up and saw O’Brien staring him down like he was a bull ready to fight. Fuck. Another X on his back. 

Lunchtime was quiet. Lonely. Mr. Catton had gotten him out of his lunchtime detention with Mrs. Daly, only if he’d come to his office at lunch. Lunchtime was always quiet. Whether he was at a track or in school, or even at home. He was always lonely. Always alone. People on track thought he was too nice, too soft, too slow. People at school thought he was too flashy, too egotistical, too much. He just… wanted a friend. He wanted someone to talk to about everything. He had his friends, but they were busy doing lunchtime rugby drills. All the girls he knew were busy doing their art practicals. He was just… waiting for Mr. Catton. 

“Now, Lando,” he smiled, sitting at his desk. “Take a seat, please.”

Mr. Catton was nice. He cared about Lando and his education, not just his racing results like some of the other teachers. He wanted to finish school because it mattered to his mom. He didn’t want to disappoint her, also, he may need a job at some point, if F1 doesn’t work out. Mr. Catton’s office looked like it was straight out of Harry Potter. Old books on even older shelves, plaques for things long forgotten at the school, different pictures in black and white, a big oak desk with stacks and stacks of papers and copies. He was sure he’d seen a monocle at one point. The computer screen on his desk didn’t exactly fit in with the aesthetics of the room, but Lando was sure it was old, so that kind of made up for it.

“How are you doing?” Mr. Catton asked, closing over the book in front of him. 

“I’m… fine,” Lando nodded, playing with his hands. “Nothing much to report.” 

“You’re failing three classes, Lando,” Mr. Catton had a habit of not sugarcoating things. “And we need to fix that, lest you want to repeat this year.”

“I know, it’s just with racing, I have so much to do at the tracks, and then here and-”

“I know it’s a lot. And it’s very overwhelming. And you’re doing better than I or anyone else could’ve imagined. But we need to solve this. I have a solution for Biology and English, but you need to find one for Physics, alright?” 

Lando’s eyebrow raised. “What solution do you have?”

“A tutor,” he smiled. A knock at the door took the attention of both of them. “She’s here just in time. Come on in Y/n!” he called. 

Lando’s face went grey, he was sure of it. 

So, maybe he might’ve made a mistake by calling you socially awkward and boring, because that spread like wildfire, and no one would talk to you. It’s not like he meant to, he just wanted his mates to stop teasing him about you. He wasn’t interested in you, in any capacity. He just… should’ve chosen his words better. 

“Lando,” you nodded politely at him as you sat beside him. “Mr. Catton.”

“I’m under the impression you two know each other?” he prompted. 

“Our parents know each other,” you explained before Lando could say yes. He turned to you, a confused look on his face. You knew each other. “Yes.”

“Very good,” Mr. Catton smiled. “So, every week, you’ll get a tutoring lesson from Y/n, here. She’ll meet you on a Tuesday after school when you’re here, or else it’ll be up to you to sort out a time to call,” he explained, his eyes on Lando. “I need you to understand how important passing these classes are, alright? I don’t want to have to make you repeat a year.” 

Lando nodded, knowing the expectations he had. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone. He didn’t want to make this a problem. He didn’t want to have to repeat a year. He also didn't want to have to see you every week when he knew what he’d said. 

“I understand.” 

“What I don’t get is how you calculate that,” he admitted, pointing to his copy. “It’s fucking impossible.” 

“It’s not, you just take the numbers from here,” you explained calmly. “See?”

Oh. That was simple. “Oh-uh- t-thanks.” 

“No problem,” you nodded curtly. “Just do some of those questions and tap me if you need some help,” you instructed before going back to whatever you were doing. Matter of fact, what were you doing? “Do your problems, Lando.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, turning his eyes back to his copy and starting some of the questions. 

“I’m making you information sheets,” you explained. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Basically mind maps of all the information of the topics we’re studying and going to study this year, so you can keep up. I’ve noticed you’re a visual learner, thought it might help,” you shrugged. “Go back to your work now.” 

He nodded, and tried to ignore the way he felt himself… soften towards you when you mentioned noticing that he was a visual learner. What you were doing was kind anyway, but that was a lot of work, yet you were doing it without being asked. 

“Will do,” he nodded and went back to his questions. He couldn’t help but feel bad for his comments, but this made him feel worse. 

After a few minutes, his questions were done, and he had questions for you. The suffocating silence was becoming too much for his overactive brain, and he was desperate to know more about you as a person. “Want to play twenty questions?” he asked. 

“I have more questions for you, if you’ve done those,” you offered. 

He rolled his eyes. “Can we play twenty questions as I do the questions?” 

“If it helps you work better,” you shrugged, handing him a new worksheet on photosynthesis.

“What’s your favourite colour?” he asked, his pen scratching against the page. 

“Red, maybe,” you shrugged. “What’s your favourite subject?”

“PE,” he chuckled. “How do you like the school?” 

“I don’t,” you admitted, a rare moment of truth between the two of you. “What’s your favourite circuit?”

“I like Spa,” he shrugged. “What’s your favourite part of your job?” 

“Getting to be other people,” you rattled off. “What’s the worst part of racing?”

He gulped for a moment. “The media. Like… the backlash and all. What’s the worst part of theatre?”

“The same,” you agreed, looking over his answers. “That’s wrong,” you pointed out, fixing his calculations. He looked up, seeing how close you were to him, and he jerked back. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to touch you or anything, it was just… a reaction. Your face blanked, and he was sure his went bright red. You were both quiet for a minute, and you turned back to your work. “You can just finish up that worksheet and give it back to me. Then we’re done for today.” 

He nodded, noticing the way your posture was much stiffer than before. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew you knew he’d started the rumor, and as selfish as it sounded, he hoped you’d never bring it up. 

Lando looked down at his phone to see a message from you. 

Hello Mr. Norris, 

I won’t be able to attend our debrief this weekend, so please seek counsel from Mr. Davidson, and he will relay all information to me to continue building your profile. Sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding. 

Y/n Y/l/n. 

“Fuck you princess,” he cursed under his breath, pushing his phone back into his pocket. I should’ve just turned this whole idea down. I should’ve just ran the other way. I should’ve never taken up this position. I should’ve-

“I’m exhausted,” Oscar yawned as they sat around the motorhome after the win. “Can’t believe this is only the start of the triple header.” 

Sierra appeared beside him, Liam beside her. Lando’s head throbbed with a headache that had been building since the start of the weekend. 

“Ready?” Sierra asked Oscar.

“Yeah,” he stood from his chair and led her to his Driver’s Room. 

Lando sighed as Liam stood over him. 

“Y/n’s not here-”

“I noticed,” Lando gritted out, crossing his arms. “Well, come on, out with it.”

“Do you want to go-”

“If I wanted to go somewhere, I’d have gone. Wouldn’t I, Liam?” His voice was sharp. Too sharp. Too obvious. Liam flinched at his tone. 

“Have I done something to offend you?”

“Not you directly. Your girlfriend is pretty fucking annoying though,” he grunted out, a subtle dig. 

Liam raised an eyebrow. “I thought you knew Y/n?”

“So she is your girlfriend?” he scoffed. Of course. Of course he was. Of course you’d never be upfront and honest about the fact that despite everything you’d been through with Lando, he’d never be enough. He shook his head. 

Liam cleared his throat. “Well… no. But I knew who you’re talking about with your insinuation,” Liam caught his own slip-up as Lando chuckled at his back-tracking.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” Lando held his hands up in mock surrender, just anyone with eyes could hear the patronisation in his tone. Liam frowned. “Good for you. I’m sure she’s a head wreck to date. Good fuck though.” 

Liam’s face dropped. Lando didn’t even know what was coming out of his mouth, he was just… upset. You always brought him to the edge, and yeah, maybe he went too far this time. How was he supposed to not? He shook his head, trying to shake off his own words. He had to stop giving you this much control over him. He just had to… forget. To relax. To get the fuck away from you.

“A-hem,” you cleared your throat from behind him and he felt his blood run cold. Fuck. “I’m sure you’ll be fine to take this on your own, Liam?” you turned to your colleague. Liam just nodded, offering you a pitying smile. “Mr. Norris, that was highly inappropriate, and I will bring this issue up with our HR department. Spreading lies about anyone is awful, but to have them contain such crude accusations is just wrong. I’ll see you next weekend.”

Fuck. He was fucked.

𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟

twists and turns masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[chalamvts]

⌗ ANGELS BE CALLIN’┆ LN⁴ .ᐟ

౨ৎ .. SYNOPSIS — Slow mornings with Lando has always been the best part, especially because he has a certain way of waking you up all the time.

౨ৎ .. PAIRING — Lando Norris x afab!reader. established relationship.

౨ৎ .. CAUTION — profanities. smut warning. unprotected sex. creampie. soft-ish sex. minors dni.

wc — 1.5k

[ song — get you by daniel caesar ]

Despite the vague warmth of the sun peeking through the blinds, a cold shiver ran up your spine as your eyes gently fluttered. The soft hum of the ac filled the dense air, hitting your exposed shoulder as you slightly shifted—reminding you of the lack of clothing you were dealing with underneath the duvet.

You peered over your shoulder, barely making out the familiar figure of Lando right beside you through half lidded eyes. A soft smile crept up your lips once you did, shifting your weight to completely face him. It’s always been a bliss to see him like this—so peaceful, the slight afterglow lingering just right on his face as his curls sat messily, like it always did.

Without much thought, you placed a hand on his cheek, letting your thumb travel over his skin, not missing the way his eyebrows slightly twitched at your touch. It was one of those mornings where you’d be awake before him, and to you, it was always a great opportunity to just.. admire him.

You gently leaned in, placing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, letting your lips stay there for a bit longer. As if on cue, he started to stir, his arms absentmindedly pulling you closer to him. You watched his eyes flutter open, fighting back a smile as you stayed still.

“Hi.” he mumbled through a sleepy smile, his voice still thick with sleep,

You breathed out a laugh, running your hand up to his curls, fiddling with it. “Hi. Good morning.”

Lando responded by leaning in, planting a kiss on your temple, running a hand through the curve of your waist. He pulled away, just enough to look at you. “You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed out, snuggling closer to him. “Just a bit cold.”

He chuckled, looking down to your covered chest, letting his hands roam freely under the sheet. “Yeah, I can feel that.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, lightly shoving him, scoffing. “Yeah, well I hope you can also feel how sore I am right now.”

Lando grinned, swiftly catching your hand as it smacked softly into the sheets. “That’s quite flattering.”

You gave him a look “It’s concerning.”

“You’re still here though,” he pointed out, his smile never faltering as he watched your frown deepen.

“Unfortunately.” you murmur, tilting your head up to give him access as his lips latched onto your neck, Lando let the silence stretch for a moment, just his thumb tracing lazy patterns across your skin. You watched him reach out to remove the covers, with a soft groan, you stopped him.

“Lando.”

“What?” he laughed, voice low. “You said you were cold, gotta know if I need to start warming up again.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. “I swear to god— what part of ‘sore’ can you not understand?“

“Who says you have to move?” he whispered, lips brushing against your jaw, littering wet kisses all over. “We’ll go slow. Promise.”

For a moment, you stared at him. A part of you considered it as the look he was giving you was not helping at all. You could feel a sense of heat rush through your neck as he stared, breathing out a shaky sigh.

Lando watched as the corners of your lips turned upward, taking it as an instant response as pulled your chin, crashing your lips with his into a deep, breathtaking kiss.

Shortly, he pulled away, his lips still subtly touching yours. “Say it.” he panted, his eyes searching your face for an answer. “You trust me, yeah?”

God, he always looked so pretty like this, the morning glow illuminating with his broad form, all worked up, just for you. Your breath shuddered as you meekly nodded. “Always.”

Lando didn’t have to think twice, abruptly latching his mouth back to your parted lips, slowly pulling on your arm to reposition you. You let him turn you over, now having your back pressed against his chest. Your breath hitched as you could feel that familiar hardness pressed just above your inner thigh, the same rush you felt the night before coming back instantly.

“Just.. relax. I got you.” he muttered in your ear, his palms finding its way to one of your breasts, kneading it gently, yielding a soft moan from you. “You have me.”

“Oh, fuck.” you hissed as reached further down, his middle finger made contact with your damp slick, dragging it back and forth in a slow manner. Lando hummed, amused as he added another digit. “Still so wet for me, baby..”

You barely mustered an answer, biting your lip as you nodded, miserably stopping a whimper from coming out. Desperately, you slightly jolted your hips, eager for a bit of friction. “Lan, I need—“

“Shh, love, I know.” he whispered low, pumping himself for a moment, that reddish hue of his leaking tip gradually intensifying. A quiet groan emitted from you as you felt his tip dragging teasingly against your aching slick, threatening to meddle with your sensitive folds.

Just as you were about to complain, a whine escaped your lips as he suddenly inserted an inch of himself, subconsciously making you arch your back against him. “Oh my god, baby..” you gasped, a mischievous glint against Lando’s eyes as he slowly pushed his cock in you.

“Yeah? like that? Nice and slow, love.” he cooed, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he led the palm of your hand to your abdomen, feeling that slight bump on your skin. “You feel me? That’s how deep you’re taking me right now..” he muttered against your ear.

“I.. fuck— I need you to move, please.”

Lando complied, starting slowly as he moved his hips forward, pulling you in with each thrust, the speed only picking up with each second. As he busied both his hands on your breasts, you could feel yourself spiraling as his muffled praises filled your senses, the slight curve of his cock hitting all the right places.

“Taking me so fucking good.” he rasped, a hand now softly clasped on your neck, slightly turning your head to give him a good view of your mixed expressions as you bit your lip, soft mewls still escaping, shamelessly.

“Oh god— don’t stop.” you sighed out, breathlessly.

“Wasn’t planning to, baby.” Lando replied, a vague smile on his face as he kept his pace, leaving open-mouth kisses on your bare shoulders every now and then. Despite being together for a while, he couldn’t deny, you always had that effect on him. Just like how he affects you, always so eager to be touched. “Gonna fill you up so good, yeah?”

“Mhm, s..so big.” you could barely realize what you were saying, too engulfed by his cock stretching you good with every single thrust. “Fuck, right there, yes..” ever so slightly, you could feel that familiar knot in your stomach forming, unaware of the lewd sounds you produced as Lando kept going.

“Shit, I—“

“You’re cumming, baby?” he intervened your moans, the way you clench uncontrollably around his girth stroking his ego even more as he sped up. “Tell me where you want it, pretty.”

“I-inside. Right inside me, please.” you managed to mumble, almost incomprehensible as you threw your head back. Though Lando must’ve understood, without a word, placing pecks on your hair, chasing his own high.

Eventually, your body shuddered as you felt the knot in your stomach collapsing, a high-pitched moan emitting from your lips. Your chest heaved, Lando’s palm soothing your body as you came right on his cock, twitching at the feeling of his cum pushed against yours.

“So, so pretty.” he muttered, gently stroking your cheek as you catched your breath, a mixture of yours and his fluids seeping over your clit as he pulled out. As soon as your eyes slowly opened, you were met with the love of your life as your body turned to face him again, softly smiling at you.

“Still feeling cold?” he asked, slightly joking.

With a tired laugh, you pushed him weakly. “I’m quite warm now actually. Thanks to you.”

“Told you so.” he pulled you closer, resting his face on the crook of your neck. “Great to see it helped.” he muttered against your skin, that worn out tone in his voice slightly showing.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. Another hour in bed. “Well, unfortunately, we can’t stay here all day.” you said, tapping his shoulder, in hopes he’d let go.

A groan emitted from Lando, lifting his head from your shoulder. “What? Says who?”

“Your trainer, who is probably wondering where you are right now.” you chuckled, watching the pout forming on his face.

“You’re evil.” he sighed, running a hand through his face.

“May I remind you whose idea this was?” you countered.

“And anyway,” you sat up, wincing in the process, turning towards your pouting boyfriend like he didn’t just wreck you moments ago. You leaned down to his face, kissing his nose, then his cheek, and finally on his lips.

“Only an idiot would say no to morning sex.”

[ RADIO. yeah.. sorta took me a while. not proofread though </3 ]

[norrisainz33]

electric || ln4

summary: lando norris was your favorite situationship and you found that you weren’t the only one who wanted a little bit more

pairing: lando norris x situationship!reader

warnings: highly suggestive, bad grammar and some bad language. you are responsible for the content you consume!!!

word count: 1,537

a/n: first fully written lando fic!

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

the night was electric. the club pulsed with the beat of the music and you could feel the bass rumble in your chest as you danced through the crowd with your friends. you could feel the excitement rising as the alcohol made its way through your system but even with all the chaos around you, your eyes were only on one person.

lando norris.

he was easy to spot with his bright smile and effortless confidence. he stood out in any room he found himself in and tonight, as always, he was impossible to ignore. when your eyes met across the crowd, there was no need for words. he was already making his way over, his presence commanding your attention. you had sometimes wished you were able to deny his charm but you were never quite strong enough to say no.

“y/n,” he called, his voice cutting through the music as he reached you with a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“lando,” you answered, trying to play it cool as your heart raced faster with each step that he got closer. lando was in a classic black button up with his //// chain dangling perfectly around his neck. he looked incredible with his curls peaking out of his backwards cap.

lando didn’t waste any time before grabbing your hand and pulling you further into the mass of bodies on the dance floor. time seemed to bend around the both of you, the world outside your little bubble fading into the background. you found yourself getting lost in the feeling of lando's hands on your waist as you two danced to the beat of the music.

it happened like this with you both more than you wanted to admit. it was almost like clock work, he'd come home from a race weekend, beg you to meet him out somewhere in monaco for drinks, you'd find yourself in his bed and then you wouldn't hear from him again until after the next race.

lando leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “want to get out of here?”

the question hung in the air, simple and direct. and for a moment, you paused in a way you wouldn't usually. you wanted so badly for lando to want something more from you but you knew now wasn't the time for that conversation. and you knew, in this current moment, that all you wanted was him.

“yes,” you whispered back.

lando grabbed your hand, leading you out of the club, your footsteps quick as you navigated the streets of monaco. the cool night air hit your skin and you let out a sigh of relief enjoying the sudden quiet.

he led you to a car park where his car, the sleek and ever iconic mclaren, sat. that car, your favorite of the bunch, purred with power as it came to life under his touch. lando glanced around the garage quickly and you watched him as he did.

lando's gaze flicked to you, his lips curling into a mischievous smile that sent a shiver through you. he didn't move to get his car going or even put on his seat belt instead he turned to you his hand landing on your thigh. he was wild, carefree and lived for moments like this.. moments that were reckless, intense, and full of adrenaline.

“you know,” he said softly, his voice low and teasing, “i don’t think we need to wait to get home.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was both urgent and sweet. it was a kiss that held all the pent-up energy from the night and all the unspoken things you hadn’t said yet.

your heart pounded as you kissed him back and your hand found his neck pulling him closer. your initial apprehension melting away as he deepened the kiss and gently pulled you over the console and into his lap.

it wasn't long after that a heavy knock sounded on the driver's side window. you both jolted apart as your heart dropped into your stomach. you scrambled off lando's lap and back into the passenger seat as lando flung the door open.

"max!" he half shouted clearly irritated.

you let out a breath of relief when you realized it wasn’t paparazzi or some stranger just lando’s best mate, max fewtrell, standing there arms crossed and looking more amused than anything.

"mate don’t yell at me!" max threw up his hands. "you’re the one who told me you were going home with me and not her and then you ditched me at the f**king bar!"

"max shut up" lando snapped, sharper than you'd ever heard him.

"oh right sorry sorry" max said with a dramatic eye roll. "wouldn’t want her to hear about your silly little feelings for her and how you begged me to help you get your act together!"

you grabbed your purse, your heart thudding for a whole different reason now and stepped out of the mclaren. you brushed your hair behind your ear trying not to make eye contact with either of them.

"listen! it’s alright! i should go. my friends are still at the club and i can get a ride with them, it’s fine really," you said backing away from the pair trying to salvage what little dignity you had left.

"no y/n/n - don’t go! i’m sorry. you shouldn’t have to go home on your own." lando’s voice was softer now.

max looked down clearly realizing he’d might have just made a little bit of an ass of himself.

"i’ll be ok." you said quietly, slinging your purse over your shoulder and keeping your eyes fixed on the ground. you turned before either of them could stop you again.

you walked out of the car park and towards the club where your friends were while trying to calm the swirl in your chest. you weren’t sure what exactly had just happened or what lando’s feelings even meant but you knew one thing for sure. something had changed.

this was the end of the night but maybe it was also the beginning of something more.

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: if you made it this far... thanks for reading!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[beah388love]

Hey, I don’t know exactly how to place an order but I have one for Lando Norris x Fem! Reader.

The reader has diabetes and during a stream from Lando and Max she ends up having hypoglycaemia?

Sudden Drop

Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Summary: you have diabetes and have a sudden low blood sugar drop…during a livestream.

Warnings: hypoglycaemia, near fainting, swearing (please tell me if I’ve missed any?!!!)

You have hypoglycaemia which is where you have low blood sugar drops.

Lando openly talks about how much he hates it, not in a mean way. But he hates how many near heart attacks he has when you have random episodes of where your blood sugar drops.

He even went to the lengths of buying you an expensive Apple Watch to track your blood sugar levels throughout the day. And he also keeps apple juice box’s around everywhere…literally everywhere.

Max stares into the camera as he checks to make sure the stream is working. “Chat?- can you hear me?” He asks to the screen and watches the chat section roll with comments and answers, most saying yes.

Lando was sat on Max’s bed behind him, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. You was laying on top of him, snuggled into his shirt.

You had just had your diabetes medication an hour before and you hadn’t eaten anything yet, too tired to get up and eat something. You knew your doctors had told you to eat something after taking your medication but you thought today you could just leave it for a while…you was wrong.

Max was talking to the stream, he was also setting up the sim for him and Lando to play. “Lando? I think it’s ready mate”

Lando looks up from his phone and nods lightly. He looks down at you and gently moves you off to get up.

He sits down next to max and holds the steering wheel. He grins and makes pretend car noises.

Max rolls his eyes amused “anyway-“

Lando chuckles. And then they start play in and racing on an f1 simulator.

After a couple minutes you get bored and stand up, moving to stand by Lando. Lando looks up “baby? What’s up?” He asks quietly, moving his mic away.

You rub your eye and sit down on his lap, he instinctively holds your waist to make room for you.

“Comfy?” He asks quietly and kisses your temple. You nod and relax into his chest, watching the chat comments and landos screen.

Max groans when he crashes in the game “this is stupid.” Lando chuckles “nah- you just suck.”

Max gives the stream a deadpanned look and rolls his eyes amused.

User1: MAX KEEPS CRASSHING 💀

User2: why’s y/n so quiet?

User3: ikr?

User4: I LOVE YALL

Lando had also noticed your quietness, usually you was quite loud and jokey during streams. He gently presses his lips to your cheek and whispers “baby? You okay?”

You let out a small sigh and nod “mhm..”

Lando furrows his brows, his gut telling him something was wrong. He uses one hand on the steering wheel and holds your other with his. And he notices how shaky your hands are…

You felt awful, your eyes were blurry and felt pressure on them. Your head was fuzzy and stomach queasy. And not to mention how pale you looked. You looked like a ghost through the camera of the stream.

Max hadn’t noticed what was going on, too busy throwing a rage fit at the game “Oh my godddddd”

Lando was too focused on you than the game, he let go of his steering wheel entirely and looks to you “babe? When did you take your medication?” He asks as he lifts your sleeve up, looking at your watch and checking your blood sugar levels.

You know your brows as you try to think, your brain fuzzy. “Uh- like…an hour ago..” you say through trembling lips.

Lando eyes widen and looks at your watch “an hour ago?!” He exclaims as he reads your watch, your blood sugar levels dropped massively.

“Have you ate anything?” He asks worried as he holds your cheek, turning you to face him. Not bothered about the stream.

Max looks over, now also worried. You shake your head “I was too tired..I was gonna have something later”

Lando shakes his head, annoyed with himself for not making something for you. “You should’ve asked me to get something- you know you need to eat after your meds” he sighs and gently lifts you up onto max’s bed.

You sit on his bed, your hands even more shaky and your eyes more blurry.

Lando looks at you worried “are you okay? Your shaking like crazy”

You shake your head “I feel faint..” you manage to say quietly.

Lando nods and quickly goes to grab an apple juice from the kitchen, he rushes off to the kitchen.

Whilst he’s gone, max looks at you “don’t faint on me” he says trying to lighten the mood. You form a small smile “ha ha. Funny.”

Max chuckles lightly but then he sees you shut your eyes a little “hey- I was kidding- lay down. Don’t faint.”

You sigh and lay down “sorry- I won’t…I just- feel really dizzy..”

Max sits back by his laptop and starts looking at the stream again and calls out for Lando “Lando! Hurry up.”

Lando groans and rushes back in, pushing max away from his keyboard “move”

Max knots his brows confused “what are you doing-?”

Lando keeps quiet for a second as he goes off the stream, ending it.

Max eyes widen “hey- what’re you doing?”

Lando rolls his eyes “I’m buying her apple juice. We have none, we ran out. And we don’t have anything else either.” He says as he orders some from the closest shop down the road.

Max nods lightly and looks over to you, you look pale and weak.

Lando moves away from the keyboard and stands next to you, holding your shaky hand “baby? Stay awake for me yeah? I’ve ordered some apple juice and some fruit and stuff”

You nod lightly and try to stay conscious. Your hands still shaky and your heartbeat fast.

Eventually Lando hears the door knock and he grabs the stuff from the delivery guy. And he rushes back to you. “Baby?- drink this.” He says stern and hands you the apple juice box.

You take it and sip some. He furrows his brows, not satisfied and still worried about you “more.”

You sip some more and he shakes his head with a soft “no- drink all of it.”

You sigh and do as he says, drinking it all and as soon as your done he hands you the other apple juice box.

“Babe- i can’t drink loads” you sigh

Lando shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair “you can.- drink as much as you can. I don’t want you to faint or anything”

You give in and drink another juice box, eating a bowl of banana slices as well.

Lando nods content and kisses your head “thank you, now next time. Tell me to make you something to eat okay? Don’t say ‘your too tired’”

You smile lightly and nod “I will..I love you.”

Lando smiles and kisses your nose “I love you more, now rest. please.” He says and sits down on the bed next to you as you lay down.

Max shakes his head amused “seriously? I’ve lost my bed again.”

Lando grins “sucks to suck.”

[trashytracktales]

Dare I ask for more inexperienced Lando?

pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseee

✦︎ Sorry it took a while, I made a list in my notes and just kept updating it every time a thought popped in my head. This is all I can think of, aside from what we talked about already (if I happen to repeat myself, OH WELL :D)

✦︎ Read more about this topic here and here.

𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗗!𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢

✦︎ is too cocky for someone who’s never even kissed with tongue;

✦︎ won’t admit he actually watched a tutorial on 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗲 (but very much watched the damn tutorial);

✦︎ is all talk until you actually give him attention, then suddenly he’s mute;

✦︎ gets cockblocked by his own nerves (I told you guys, he’s so adorable it brings me to tears);

✦︎ will go tomato-red when you guide his hand on your tits or between your legs;

✦︎ talks a big game over texts, but fumbles when you are face to face;

✦︎ won’t stop smiling ear to ear after you kiss him on the CHEEKS;

✦︎ isn’t sure where to put his hands when you give him head and ends up clutching the sheets instead;

✦︎ tries to be dominant but the giggles kick in fast;

✦︎ has never gone down on anyone but drops to his knees the second you ask;

✦︎ moans louder than you the first time you ride him;

✦︎ loses all sense of rhythm just because of the way you’re saying his name;

✦︎ forgets how to breathe when you take him fully in your mouth;

✦︎ tries to finger you for the first time with shaky hands and ends up watching your face instead of focusing (can’t blame him, really);

✦︎ swears he can handle you sucking him off in his driver’s room, then nearly faints the second your tongue touches the tip;

✦︎ is determined not to come until you do, but lets out the most pathetic sound when you clench around him.

[goldsbitch]

How high is your love

Lando just wanted a relaxing holiday. His twins and Y/N are tired of the constant ringing of his phone. What's meant to be a chill family time turns into chaos when Lando agrees to a cable car ride he absolutely shouldn't have. Luckily, he does not have to face his fear of heights alone.

words: 2,8k warning: heights?

stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

Family holidays are sacred.

A rule carved into Norris family tradition somewhere between "don't pack matching swimsuits again" and "Y/N is always in charge of passports, for everyone's safety."

This year, they are in southern Spain—somewhere coastal and quiet, all sea breeze and sunshine. It was their chill trip. No racing. No events. No overbooked itineraries.

Except that isn't how it all goes down. The phone calls keep coming left and right for Lando and after yesterday, where the rest of the family had to wait for twenty minutes (the twins are calling it an hour) in the middle of nowhere, while Lando paced around, ear glued to the phone, it's safe to say the rest of the family was more than fed up with it.

And while he dealt with "important and top-secret crisis" in the middle of a random field, the girls came up with a revenge plan. It was all in good faith—if there's no phone service, there can't be any phone calls. The kids didn't count in the fact Lando is somewhat mortified of heights. Y/N, however, did.

//

Lando didn't mean to say yes to a day trip to the highest mountain in the surrounding area. Definitely not if it involved him and his family on a cable car ride. Not at first.

It was the way Maya looked up at him—cheeks glowing and eyes so wide he as almost worried they're gonna pop out.

There were so many things Lando would've happily agreed to on this holiday. Beach day? Sure. Boat tour? Great. A quiet lunch in the sun with cold drinks and no chaos? Take his card now.

But this? Absolutely not. Still, there he is. Standing in front of a mountain.

The cable car station looks completely innocent. Whitewashed walls, cute tourist signs, smiling staff in light polos. No one is screaming. No one is falling. In fact, a group of retired British tourists had just boarded one of the cars, smiling for photos like they were going on a cruise.

None of this reassurs Lando.

"This is way higher than the photos made it seem," he comments, eyeing the steel cables disappearing into the clouds. "They should be sued for false advertisement."

Y/N chuckles and Lando ignores the smile that screams 'I knew this would happen'.

"What?" he snaps at her, letting his nervousness win.

"Nothing, my love," she says sweetly. "I just wonder when you're going to chicken out."

"This is a death box," he mutters for only Y/N to hear, staring up at the glass-and-steel cable car as it dangles from a cable that looks way too thin. "A death box on a string."

"Lando, don't scare the kids," "Y/N replies, utterly unbothered, in full vacation mode—sunglasses on, flowy dress fluttering in the breeze, camera slung casually across her chest.

"We could hike."

"Sure, if you're fine with missing a race or two. It’s only, what, a three-week trek?"

"I'm sure they would send a helicopter for me," he jokes, mainly to distract himself as he takes in the view in front of them.

Lando wants to get up there. For Maya, her doe eyes begging him all morning to embark on this trip. How can one resist that. He just wishes teleportation had advanced a bit further by now, so he could skip the whole glass-floor-of-death part of the trip. Right on cue, the girls come back running from the ticket office and Maya's face only, the pure child-like excitement that could make even the strongest soldier crack. And Lando, traitor to his own instincts, melts at the sight. Maya is practically glowing with fascination, and Olivia—less enthusiastic—grabs his hoodie hem like it's a lifeline. It's fine. He can push his innate fear of heights down for few minutes.

"We’re making memories," he tells himself. "Look at them."

"Did you know the name of the ride's not random?" Olivia whispers. "It translates to Ride to Heaven. The guy said so!"

"Even worse," Lando says. "They gave it a name. You only name things you want people to mourn when they fall off a mountain."

Y/N shoots a warning look at Olivia behind Lando's back. While Olivia had complained the loudest about her dad being constantly pulled away from the holiday, ever since they arrived and she saw the height of the cable car, she's slowly switching teams. She seems to ignore the 'your dad is scared of heights, don't freak him out' brief they got from Y/N. Twice.

Maya, on the other hand, is in her absolute element.

"Stop the panic, Lando," Y/N chimes in from ahead, already handing their tickets to the smiley staff member. "It's the biggest one in Europe, it barely even moves. The view from the top is—"

"A conspiracy," Lando mumbles.

Y/N ignores him and turns to Maya, who's practically vibrating with excitement. "Ready for the Challenge List?"

Maya salutes. "Born ready."

"What's a Challenge List?" Lando asks, already not on board with whatever it stands for.

"There's a list. If you take a photo doing each thing on the list, you get a free gift at the top."

Olivia perks up slightly. "What kind of gift?

Maya explains. "No idea. That's the mystery."

Y/N is intrigued. "What’s on the list?"

Maya carefully unfolds the paper and reads, a little slowly, still getting the hang of longer words:

Take a photo mid-air looking down through the glass.

Point to the sea and look dramatic.

High-five a stranger.

Capture a selfie of your whole family in the same frame.

Film a video dancing in the sky car.

Lando groans. "They're making us do content?"

"Lando," Y/N warns, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.

"Fine. Sure, Photo Challenge."

They shuffle forward. The closer they get, the more the platform beneath them seems to vanish under glass. Lando is now rethinking every life decision that led him here.

Y/N pulls her sunhat lower and adjusts the strap of her camera. "Let's go, team. Bravery awaits."

Behind her, Olivia leans in to Lando, "Just to make it known, I am not on board with this idea. At all."

And for once, Lando is proud. At least one of them had the good sense to be terrified.

//

The cable car pulls into the station with a soft click, deceptively quiet for what Lando considers a swinging glass coffin.The doors slide open and Maya bounces in first, like she's boarding a rocket to adventure. Y/N follows, calm as ever. Olivia hesitates. Lando stops dead in his tracks.

"This feels like a trap," he complains.

"It is," Olivia declares. "And we walked right into it."

They shuffle in.

The cable car is huge—a sleek glass capsule with floor-to-ceiling windows, a see-through panel in the center of the floor, and space for sixty people. It's more stable than Lando expected. Which somehow only makes it worse. Like it's lulling him into false security. The doors close and it starts moving up way to early for his liking.

He and Olivia immediately gravitate to a corner and cling to it like it might detach and stay safely near the ground. Olivia still won't let go of his hoodie. She's holding onto it like it's her parachute.

Lando, meanwhile, is 90% sure he's going to pass out. He tries as much as he can to avoid looking down.

"Why is it so quiet?" he hisses. "Why don't I hear gears? There should be gears."

"Maybe they use hope instead of engines," Olivia whispers dramatically. Lando gives her a proud nod. That's his girl. Terrified and sarcastic. The true Norris spirit.

He squeezes her shoulder gently, trying to provide as much adult comforting as he's currently able to. Which is not a lot.

A breeze pushes the cable car just slightly to the side. Nothing major. Not dangerous. Just a light sway.

But Lando lets out a sound like a dying cartoon character. He slaps a palm to the glass behind him, sliding halfway down the wall like a ghost in an old novel. Olivia copies him with slight delay.

Y/N, without missing a beat, pulls out her phone and hits record.

"Babe, please smile for the family memories," she coos.

He shoots her a desperate, yet angry look. "I'm planning my funeral," he mutters.

From the other side of the cabin, a little old lady giggles. She leans toward him with a kind smile and offers a mint. Lando takes it like it’s morphine. "Thank you. I’m too young to die."

"You’re not," Olivia adds helpfully, gripping him tightly. "But we'll pretend." On a normal day, Lando would be offended. But he is currently busy calculating just how exactly above the ground they're floating right now.

Across from them, Maya is in her absolute element. She's already done a twirl in the middle of the glass floor panel, taken a selfie pointing dramatically at the sea, and fist-bumped a stranger from Denmark. Just glancing towards her direction makes Lando want to faint.

"Mom! Everyone!" she calls, waving her arms. "I need you for the family selfie!"

"Coming, love!" Y/N calls back cheerfully.

Lando does not move. Olivia does not move.

"You have to be in the frame," Maya insists. "Dad too!"

"We're contributing to the vibe from here," Lando says flatly.

But Maya's not having it. "Challenge List says full-family selfie! I don't make the rules!"

"Rules are made for breaking–" Lando protests.

"No, they are not!" Y/N stops him from speaking further and shoots him an "are you serious" look.

"I have a moral principle," Maya replies theatrically with a flip of her ponytail. Olivia's face is progressively getting more green. If there is ever an issue with telling them apart, Lando figures that altitude might provide an easy way of solving that.

Y/N, sensing this could spiral, gestures Maya to come to Lando and Olivia, rather than expecting them to move. What follows is a squished selfie with everyone—Olivia half-hiding behind his back, Lando grimacing like he's seeing God, and Maya in the center doing jazz hands. Y/N laughing so hard she can barely hold the camera. It is... not their best photo.

The car sways again.

Lando hits the deck. Literally. He crouches, one hand on the floor like he’s bracing for takeoff.

"Challenge task: floor selfie," Maya chirps. "Check!"

"Wait—" Lando blinks. "That counts?"

Y/N winks. "Technically... yes."

"You’re welcome," he mutters. "Glad my public breakdown serves you well."

Another gust of wind sends a barely-there wobble through the cabin.

Olivia shrieks. "Oh my God—WE'RE GOING TO FALL—"

"We're not going to fall," Maya says. "It’s made to sway."

"Says who?" Lando and Olivia ask in unison, still in their corner.

"Science," Maya shrugs, dancing her way into her final video.

Lando groans into his hands. "I hate science."

"Don't say that," Maya tells him. "That's how pandemics happen."

Lando lets out a real, tired groan. Y/N, still filming, turns the camera on herself and whispers into the mic: "This is what happens when you give them five minutes of Wi-Fi-free airspace. Pray for us."

Somewhere mid-way through the descent, Maya completes her final challenge, Y/N accidentally captures the moment Lando accepts his own mortality with a thumbs-up to the camera.

By the time the cable car docks at the summit station, Maya's bouncing with joy, Y/N has four minutes of award-worthy footage, and Lando is already mentally composing a tweet that reads: I love my family but never again.

They step off onto the solid platform, and Lando silently prays to the skies. Olivia does too, just for solidarity.

"That. Was. A hate crime," she proclaims.

"I saw my soul leave my body," Lando adds, pale and glassy-eyed. "It waved goodbye and told me it wasn't coming back."

Y/N just chuckles and rolls her eyes. "I don't think I'll ever emotionally recover from this," she whispers.

"Me too," Lando says, placing a comforting hand on Olivia's head. "Let's never do this again," Olivia nods approvingly.

"We still have to go down," Y/N reminds them.

//

The air at the top of the mountain is thinner, cleaner, quieter—like it's been waiting centuries for someone to just slow down and breathe it in.

Y/N stretches her arms out wide, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, face tilted toward the sun. "Now this," she says, exhaling, "this is why we came."

The view is ridiculous. Magnificent cliffs that make a person feel insignificantly small, and the sea that stretches far enough that it melts into the sky. It's the kind of view that makes you forget about phone screens and meetings and who left their towel on the hotel floor again. For once, even the kids are quiet. A miracle.

Well. Quiet-ish.

Maya's skipping ahead on the trail, drinking in the view like she's just unlocked a hidden level of life. Olivia, still slightly pale from the cable car, is walking a little closer to Lando than she'd probably admit to later. Lando, for once, isn't checking his phone. Y/N notices.

He's got one hand in his pocket, the other loosely hanging at his side. His steps are slower than usual. Not tired. Just… more here. Maya finds tower of rock that some kids must have started to build and abandon the project. She calls in Olivia for help and all of a sudden, the cable car trauma is forgotten.

Lando watches them, smile creeping in. Y/N nudges him gently. "Doing okay?"

"Yeah." His voice is softer than it’s been in days. "Actually... yeah."

They walk a few more paces in easy silence, then Lando glances toward the kids.

"Maya's right, you know," he says. "We'll probably laugh about that cable car someday."

"Not if Olivia sues us first," Y/N says with a grin, already laughing about Lando's irrational fear of heights.

He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He stops walking.

Y/N turns to face him, and now it's just them, high above everything else.

"I've been a bit of a mess this trip," Lando admits. "And I know it. I can feel myself checking out the second my phone buzzes. Even when I'm here, I'm not... here."

She stays quiet. Letting him speak. Because she can't find anything to add.

"I hate that feeling," he says and his gaze lingers on the two little girls again. "Like I'm going to blink and they’ll be grown up, and I'll have missed all the little things. The jokes, the tantrums, the running away from home scares."

Y/N steps closer, takes his hand.

"You haven't missed them," she says. "You're the one they scream for when they want ice-cream. The one Olivia mimics when she's being overly dramatic. The one Maya adores. They know you."

He squeezes her hand.

"I want to do better," he says.

"You already are," she replies. "You didn't run from that cable car, and believe me, I was ready to drag you by the ankles."

That earns a real laugh. Finally.

"Also," she adds, teasing, "I got some incredible footage of your soul trying to escape your body. It might be my new lock screen."

Lando groans. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Oh, you will never hear the end of this, love of mine."

//

Their hour comes and goes quickly and on their way back, Maya runs straight to the prize stand. Her hard work on the Challenge is rewarded with few touristy magnets. She makes damn sure to boast loudly and vigorously, so much that it sparks jealousy in Olivia. Fairly typical. Lando consoles her and promises to buy her magnets too, once they survive the ride back. He picks her up as they walk to the cable car and now Maya is jealous. The vicious cycle continues.

//

The ride back down is about as smooth as expected. Maya is ecstatic. As they walk to their car, Y/N turns around to face her husband and Olivia, who seem to really bond over their shared trauma. Olivia has this cute, angry pout and refuses to meet her eye. As if it's all Y/N's fault.

"Liv, come one," Y/N tries to make amends with her. "You two are fine. You're walking, breathing, and your father didn't actually die even though he looked like it."

"I did die," Lando insists, unhelpfully. "I must have died in my sleep and woke up in hell."

Olivia nods as if her life depends on it.

"Wait," Maya stops, horrified look on her face. "I left the magnet in the cable car." Olivia immediately gasps. "Guess who's NOT going back up there."

Lando breaths in deeply as he opens the car. "I'll give you one hundred euros to forget the magnet ever existed."

Maya's eye grow wide. "Deal."

Y/N just laughs, leans back in her seat, gives up on being the reasonable parent for once and thinks to herself—not bad for a holiday with three completely ridiculous people she loves.

As they embark on the way back to their hotel, Lando's phone rings again. He declines the call.