#the return of landinho

[edensxgarden]

Lando is so baby boy the way he moved his chair so he could see the tv better

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: angst, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I was convinced not to wait another two days to post it - yes, I have the next two parts written but I’m torturing all of you xoxo

@landinhoe @mayalou @horseymchorse3

You were a good assistant, so, so much better than Maddie, and for some very, very unusual reason, Lando found himself almost...excited for when you would arrive. “How early can I bring back her arrival?” Lando asked, sitting in his own apartment, his phone to his ear as Zak sighed, 

“Our contract doesn’t dictate that, and we’d need to increase he salary, which we can’t afford,” Zak said. Lando groaned internally, he wanted you there for as long as possible. Currently, you were hired by McLaren, meaning they paid you, not Lando. Then it hit him. “I’ll hire her,” Lando said, “with my own money,”. 

“What, like, she stays round yours and works there too?” Zak asked, the idea almost absurd to him. Zak could tell his lead driver was catching some kind of obsession with you, but this was honestly desperation. “I don’t decide for her, Lando,” Zak said, the Brit groaning on his end of the line. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered, hanging up. He was gonna have a hard day tomorrow. 

You arrived at the MTC at 9am, as per your contract timings, going to pick up Lando’s coffee on the way, as you walked up the stairs. This time, you were adorned in a pretty, flowing blue summer dress, your hair tied back out of your face in a high ponytail. You knocked on the door, unlike last time, Lando expected you, and opened the door. 

Lando had his own room in the MTC where he’d stay unless he had meetings, the room with a few outfits and clothes, along with team wear and other things. Thought he was technically only supposed to stay there for team events, he usually found himself arriving from his apartment straight here during the week of the British Grand Prix. 

The sight in front of you was somewhat surprising, usually, Lando would be wearing a hoodie and joggers or whatever random, comfy outfit he’d have, whereas today was different. Lando was standing in front of you, his curls neat, albeit the single lock that hung in his forehead, adding to the boyish charm. 

He was wearing a tight fitting black r-shirt, his biceps bulging through slightly, along with loose black trousers, white trainers on his feet, adding colour to the outfit. His neck and collarbone was adorned with chains and a necklace with a cross pendant, his large fingers accented with silver and black bands, wrists littered with bracelets and looking fresh. 

“You look shocked,” he mused, taking the cup from you as he sat he down on the sofa, gesturing to your usual arm chair. You cocked your head at the sight, a cup of bubble tea on the table. What was going on? Why was he acting different? “So I noted what you drank yesterday, is that such a big deal?” Lando said, his usual cold demeanour returning as he looked you up and down. 

Pretty outfit. “Wanted to talk to you,” he said, clasping his hands together as he leaned forwards, putting the cup down onto the table silently.  “Sure,” you said, trying to blind back the surprise etched across your features. “How’s the salary doing?” he asked, a question which surprised you. Since when did he care?

“It’s okay,” you shrugged, “I get on okay,”. He nodded slowly at the words. Lando probably couldn’t relate, what with never having experienced a loss or lack of money. “Would it help if the wage was increased?” he continued, as if choosing his words carefully. Increased? Was he offering you a raise? “It would be helpful, yeah,” you mumbled, scratching your neck. 

“I can’t give you a raise, though,” he said. Part of you was a little upset he couldn’t, but then again, he didn’t owe you anything. “But,” he said. But? But what? It could happen? “McLaren can’t afford to give you a raise,” he said, “but I can,”. This was confusing now, what was he trying to tell you? “But that means I have to hire you,”. 

“Like, you pay me? And I work for you still?” you asked. “Yeah, but you come home with me too,” Lando said, “and you stay in my guest room,”. Your eyes widened at the prospect, staying either Lando and in his house? The thought of it was somewhat daunting, in some aspects, as well as exciting. Maybe. You’d finally pay off your mortgage or something. 

“Do I get holidays?” you asked, ready to negotiate a contract. Your eagerness to negotiate made a smirk flicker to his face a grin on his features. “You do,” he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice, “but I pay you triple to do housework too “. Triple?! What kind of idiot would you be to say no?

One week later.

You inhaled sharply as you stood outside Lando’s door, wearing a small, cherry red minidress, looking pretty as ever, before you raised your hand, knocking gently on the wooden frame. It took a few seconds for Lando to rush down the stairs as he opened the door, his eyes landing on you. You were coming inside his home. Wow. 

He was wearing a green hoodie and grey joggers, looking comfy as he nodded his head curtly to you. Lando said nothing, taking the suitcases from behind you and putting them at the foot of the stairs. “I’ve got a list of things for you to do,” he said leading you inside. 

You didn’t even know why you’d expected for him to be any different, nicer even, that would ridiculous. “Here,” he waved a piece of paper in front of you vaguely, pushing it into your palm as you took the paper from him. “My stuff..?” you asked, gesturing to the suitcases at the foot of the stairs. 

“Pack it away in your own time,” he reminded you now that your work hours were no longer the same, and you finished at eight. “Listen,” Lando said, stopping you as you were about to start the first task, which read - ‘Clean the living room’. You paused as he gripped your arm, pulling you back to where you were originally standing. 

“I’m taking off five quid from your monthly salary,”. Five pounds wasn’t a lot, compared to what he was paying you, but it still confused you. “Well, I’m the one buying the food,” he said, “you’re only cooking and eating it,”. He had a fair point, actually. “Alright,” you nodded, Lando’s face still stern and emotionless. 

This was gonna be a long day. Or week. Or month. 

Who knew how long you’d work for him? 

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: little bit of perv!lando, angst, sexism

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - bro why do y’all love this series sm 😭😭😭

@horseymchorse3 @dripostsstuff @mayalou @landinhoe

part 2

Since the phone incident, things with Lando had changed a lot, he was still cold and stern, but something else had changed. “Lando,” you walked into his room, carrying his phone, which he had offered to lend you during work hours. “What?” he groaned, seeing you peering at his calendar. “You have a meeting,” you said, looking up at him. “Seriously?” he snapped, his voice almost accusing towards you. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, unsure how to answer. “God, c’mon then,” he grumbled, standing up and leading you to the conference room, slumping into the chair beside you. “Right,” the strategy director clapped his hands, his eyes flickering through everyone. Lando rocked on his chair lazily, picking at his nails as the meeting flew by. 

For you, it was quick, for him, it dragged on endlessly, before they were finally dismissed. “God,” Lando groaned, rolling his eyes as the meeting finally concluded. You leaned down to pick up your bag off the floor, taking the items as Lando rolled his eyes. “Hurry up,” Lando said impatiently, tapping his foot as he waved his arm, the palm of his large hand making contact with your butt as you shrieked, standing up, eyes wide. 

He hadn’t meant to do it intentionally- but the way you shrieked and blushed from it made his mind rush. Lando could have some fun with this. You brushed it off, taking your stuff as you walked back to Lando’s room, his phone in your hand. Or buzzed slightly, making you peer at the notification, which Lando noticed. 

“What is it?” he raised an eyebrow, sitting on the edge of his bed as you stood in front of him. As an assistant, you were allowed to wear your own outfits, today being a pretty white dress with a bow on the back of your head. Why does she insist of dressing up every day? 

The way you dressed pissed Lando off in some ways, whereas also making him think things he knew he shouldn’t. “Instagram,” you said, handing him the phone. It surprised him that you didn’t check it or anything, and it also surprised you that he trusted you with his phone. Lando took the device from you, peering at the notification before brushing it off. “Put it on silent,” Lando grumbled as he sat down, pulling his jumper over his face or the rye glare of the lights, 

You sis what he said, before your eyes landed on his form, shirt stretched taut over his body, lifted slightly at the bottom, giving white the view. “Stop staring,” the man mumbled from beneath the hoodie as you blushed, turning to busy yourself with the items on the shelf. Oh no, Lando wanted to have fun with this. “Come here,” Lando said, moving his hoodie of his face. 

His hand fell from where the jumper was to rest on your thigh, your cheeks reddening at the feeling. “Go get me some coffee,” he said, giving your thigh a squeeze. The gesture had made you slightly nervous but you nodded timidly, rushing to get the drink before returning and placing it behind him. “Give it to me, not the damn table,”. 

You nodded sheepishly, handing him the cup as he sat up. “This is shit, Y/N,” Lando snapped, putting the cup down. You’d gotten distracted from when he had squeezed your thigh and accidentally put too much milk in. “Sorry,” you mumbled, reaching to take the cup back. “No, I haven’t got time for this,” Lando muttered, moving the cup back to his body. 

“No go do something productive,” he waved his hand dismissively, his finger ghosting over the skin of your thighs. “Why are you flinching?” he raised a brow at you, eyes roving over your thigh. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, nodding but he didn’t buy it. “Oh, does that affect you?” Lando asked, his voice full of mock concern as your cheeks flushed. 

“Does it?” he asked again, bringing his hand to squeeze at your thighs. “Lando,” you frowned, “stop it,”. Lando scowled at your words, looking unimpressed as his eyes roved over your body. “Yeah?” he snapped “thought you were my assistant, supposed to do what I say,”. You were, yes, but this was not the way you meant. 

In some ways, you enjoyed the way he touched you and you never truly pushed him back, but it was the professionalism in you that wanted something else. “What do you mean he keeps ‘touching you?’” Zak asked, his eyebrow raised slightly. “Just, um, grabbing,”. 

“Well…” Zak frowned, “he’s our lead driver, Y/N,”. What? What did that have to do with it? “So, we have one option,” he nodded, “Y/N…you’re fired,”.