livefastdrivefaster

[livefastdrivefaster]

masterlist

lando norris

i love you! | LN4

the early stages of your relationship with lando. meeting his friends and saying "i love you" for the first time!

we aren't friends | LN4

finding out what lando really thinks about you.

charles leclerc

my other half | CL16

when charles accidentally scares you, leading to him anxiously taking care of you.

[livefastdrivefaster]

My Other Half | CL16

Pairing: Charles x Reader

Summary: When Charles accidentally scares you, leading to him anxiously taking care of you. Complete fluff.

Word count: 900 words

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An old Porsche was sitting in your garage. You managed to get it at a great deal, mainly because the car was close to falling apart. Almost every part needed replacing or some kind of work, and you were beginning to question if you should’ve just built a car from scratch at this point. But you weren’t opposed to the idea of a project, and you had been dreaming of owning this very car since you were young, so Charles stepped in to give you the best birthday present ever.

Because of how old the car was, the suspension was completely worn out. You decided to buy the necessary replacement parts and change it out yourself. You had worked on many cars before, so you weren’t afraid of the challenge, you just really needed to get this one right because the parts were astoundingly expensive. You were underneath the car, connecting the suspension parts to the undercarriage when Charles came home to your shared apartment. 

Not finding you in the main apartment, he knew you were likely downstairs working on the Porsche. Your boyfriend always told you there were too many things about you that he loved to count, but he especially adored your passion for your arguably unique hobbies, but how amazing you were at it all too. You always blasted music through your headphones while working, so you didn’t hear Charles come down into the garage to see you. Seeing your legs peeking out from under the car, Charles smiled to himself, lowering himself to the floor to surprise you. 

At the same time, you realised you had mistakenly grabbed the wrong size wrench for the bolt you were trying to loosen, and turned your head to look for the right tool lying somewhere near you. 

You weren’t expecting to find a face an arm's length away from you. You screamed and instinctively shot up, hitting your head hard on the metal framework above you. Recognising the face as Charles, your body relaxed and you lowered yourself back to the ground, placing your hand over the part of your head that made contact with the car.

“Ah! Y/N, are you okay?” Charles called out, reaching his arm out to you. 

You could only groan in pain as the initial shock of the hit wore off. Charles slides his body underneath the car to lie next to you, petting your head sympathetically. 

“Can you move? Can I get you ice? How much does it hurt?” Charles blurted out his questions at a rapid-fire pace, and you could tell his voice was close to breaking from worry. 

“I’m okay.” You say, giving him a weak smile before rolling out from beneath the car. He follows your movements, moving quickly in his desperation to get back to being next to you. 

You sit together for a moment in silence, backs against the evil, pain-inducing Porsche. You hear Charles mumbling about ice before he jumps up from beside you. 

“I’ll get ice, my love.” He says, darting off upstairs. 

“You don’t have to, Charles, it really isn’t that bad!” You call after him. 

It was. But you didn’t want to send Charles over the edge into a nervous breakdown. You hear some commotion from the kitchen, and the almost certain thud of Charles falling down a few stairs before your boyfriend appears next to you. He crouches down next to you, steadying himself with an arm placed beside your head, and gently places the cool ice on your forehead. You flinch from the harshness of the temperature, and Charles immediately withdraws from you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’ll only sting for a moment, I promise.” He says quietly, slowly placing the ice back on your pain. You wince a little still, but forget about it all when he leans into you. The remnants of the cologne he applied this morning, mixed with the sweet smell of his post-gym skin filled your senses. You wish you could bottle his scent, and keep it in a locket around your neck forever. It was addicting, just as yours was to him. 

“Mon preux chevalier (my valiant knight).” You sighed. He smiled at you shyly, before dropping his arm beside your head to cusp your face. 

“I am no knight, I did this to you.” He says, concerned eyes darting between yours, rubbing circles into your cheek with his thumb. 

“Yeah, sneaking up on me was pretty stupid, huh?” You say, half-suppressing a cheeky smile.

“Oh,” he says slowly, catching onto your joke, “not my fault you get all jumpy around me, hm? Almost like you have a crush on me, yeah?” 

“Just a little one.” You say, giggling lightly.

His cool complexion breaks at this, unable to stop the soft laugh bursting up his chest, born from the heart you warmed with your mere presence. The moment is brief, but encompassing. Despite the years you had spent with Charles, every day felt like the first night of a young couple’s honeymoon. Giddy and loving. 

“Does it hurt still?” 

“Not at all.”

He tentatively removed the ice from your head, his green eyes glimmering in the golden light of the dying day. Slowly, ever so slowly, he encompassed your body in his own, leaning down to place the most gentle of kisses on your hairline. 

“Ma moitié” 

(My other half)

[livefastdrivefaster]

I Love You! | LN4

Pairing: Lando x Fem!Reader

Summary: The early stages of your relationship with Lando. Meeting his friends and saying "I love you" for the first time! Fluff (also a bit of suggestive language).

Word count: 1.2k words

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You had been dating Lando officially for nearly a month and a half now, and he had decided it was the right time to introduce you to his friend group. One of Lando’s friends were hosting a birthday dinner at their flat in Monaco, and he had spent a week convincing you that you needed to come. You felt uncomfortable at the thought of inserting yourself into his group, but you were new to Monaco, and would appreciate meeting more people your age there. You had met through a mutual friend, who would be at dinner tonight, but you had never gotten to know their extended circle. 

You didn’t live in the same apartment, but you lived close enough where you decided to finish getting ready at your boyfriend’s penthouse and travel to his friend’s party together. You were in Lando’s bathroom, struggling to put your earrings on when you heard him call your name from the kitchen.

“Y/N, are you almost ready to go love?” He calls.

“Yeah!” You respond enthusiastically, cautiously treading out of the bathroom, still trying to put your earring on. 

The backing finally clicks when you come into Lando’s line of sight, and you feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks as he unashamedly looks you up and down. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he says with a low voice, pulling you into him “Maybe we should just show up a little later?” He asks suggestively, placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone. You seriously didn’t mind the idea, considering how good he looked himself right now.

“I can’t let us be late to the first time I’m meeting your friends, Lando.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“Why do you have to be so sensible.” He sighs into your neck.

“One of us needs to be. Come on, the Uber is outside.” You say, tentatively pulling away from him. He takes your hand in his and dramatically marches forward, guiding you out the door. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

The two of you were stood outside the address, bickering about who should knock on the door. You desperately didn’t want to, but Lando thought it would be good to build your confidence before meeting his friends. 

“Please Lando, just do it for me.” You plead, giving him a laughable attempt at puppy eyes. 

“Be a brave girl.” Lando says, lightly pushing you towards the door. You sigh loudly, raising your arm to the door.

“I am so getting payback for this.” You say threateningly, which is only met with laughter from Lando. Disappointed he saw right through your empty threat, you knock twice at the door. 

“Coming!” A voice calls from the inside, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. You take a step back, letting Lando’s arm circle around your waist. 

Suddenly, the door swings open and you are greeted with the face of the birthday girl. 

“Y/N!” she exclaims excitedly, “You are even more gorgeous in person, come on in.” She says, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“I’m here too.” Lando says sarcastically. 

“This isn’t about you.” She quips back, leading you inside the flat. Lando rolls his eyes, following the two of you into the main party area. 

Your arrival brings about cheers from the group, as about five people offer you a drink at once, desperate to get to know Lando’s new and elusive girl. Eventually, the energy of the party shifted into a low-key vibe, with people congregating on the couches discussing their favourite movies. 

“I’ve heard enough about the Wolf of Wall Street,” a girl, whose name you find out later to be Ria, exclaims, “what about your favourite movie scenes in particular?”

“Jordan Belfort’s big party in the Wolf of Wall Street.” A guy calls out jokingly. A few groans go around the room.

“That scene in ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower’ where Emma Watson hangs out of the car in the tunnel, listening to David Bowie” You cut in, followed by awkward fumbling with your drink.

A symphony of agreement rises around the room, particularly from the girls in the group. You settle back into your seat, trying to fight a proud smile from growing on your face, happy that your comment went down well. Lando squeezed your side lightly, giving you a silent congratulations. 

The conversation flowed well through the rest of the evening, and you involved yourself more, easily fitting into the lively group dynamic. Eventually, the party wrapped up, and you and Lando decided to Uber back to his, potentially to fulfil his request from earlier. 

“How did that go, do you think?” You asked him, placing your head on his shoulder. 

“They loved you.” He said simply.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I think you’re pretty great. And they trust my judgement.” You smiled softly at this, nestling your head deeper into the crook of his neck.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You and Lando had just finished celebrating your six-month anniversary at one of Monaco’s nicest restaurants, when you both climbed into his convertible McLaren to drive home. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Lando’s free hand placed on your thigh. Suddenly, Lando takes an unexpected turn, leading you away from your apartment. 

“Lando this isn’t the way back to mine.” You say, looking at him confused. His eyes remained focused on the road ahead, but his mouth widened into a cheeky grin. 

“I know, I thought we would go the scenic route tonight.” He said casually, as if it was such an obvious thing he was doing. He takes his hand off your thigh to press a button on his centre console, causing the roof above you to open, revealing the midnight blue sky above the city. 

“Let’s hope I timed this right.” Lando says to himself, and you again look at him confusedly. The song playing through the car’s sound system ends, and you hear the familiar opening notes to “Heroes” by David Bowie coming through the speakers. Your eyes flick to the road ahead of you, and you realise you’re heading towards the Monaco tunnels. 

“Lando…” Your voice trails off, touched at the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

“Save the thanks for when we get home. Hop up baby, we are nearly at the tunnel.” He smiles, patting the area of the car behind your head. 

You perch yourself on the flat top behind your seat, enjoying the cool air wrapping around your body.

“Are you sure this is okay?” You ask Lando cautiously. 

“Of course, love. There aren’t cameras through here, and you know I will drive carefully.” You feel like a rebel, testing the law a bit. As the music swells into the chorus, you raise your arms to your side, recreating the iconic scene you talked about so long ago. 

Your eyes flicker between being open and shut, wanting to take in the most of the moment, but also not daring to look away from Lando for too long. Watching his curls being tousled by the wind, you instinctively lean down to him.

“I love you!” You yell, the words leaving your mouth before you had time to stop them. Lando looks at you through the rear-view mirror, beaming a wide smile.

“I love you more!” 

[livefastdrivefaster]

We Aren't Friends | LN4

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pairing: Lando x Fem!Driver

Summary: Finding out what Lando really thinks about you.

Word count: 1.7k words

Note: This is the first thing I've ever written so I hope it's not completely awful! Bit of fluff (some angst and swearing).

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Media duties were one of the most tedious parts about your job as a Formula One driver. Every race week, you were forced into doing hundreds of interviews, shuttled in front of one camera and then another. Today was a driver’s panel, and there were a select few of you in a room full of reporters waiting to ask questions. You sat on the edge of the stage, with Alex, Zhou, Lando and Valtteri filling the remaining seats. 

“Let’s open up to the floor for questions.” The host of the session states. 

Instantly, every reporter shoots their hand into the air, starting their voice memos, checking through their notes. Just as the actual racing is competitive, the media around Formula One is especially cutthroat. You need to fight for attention in these types of events. One woman in the second row stands out in particular, and the host singles her out to ask the first question. 

“My question is for Ms Y/L/N.” The reporter states. You lean forward in your chair, smiling at the woman. Reporters often direct their questions to specific drivers, and you were frequently asked questions about your experience being a female driver, or something similar to that general theme.

“In Formula One, they say the higher you rise, the sharper the knives. As your car is particularly competitive this year, have you found that rivalries with other drivers are also being felt off the track?”  It was an interesting question. It was true that politics were constantly rife in the paddock, but you never felt that scrutiny on a personal level. You smiled politely, and held the microphone to your mouth to answer the question. 

“I wouldn’t say so, no. It’s easy to think that with the amount of drama that happens during the races, it will follow us to the paddock. But in the end we are professionals, and we can handle the competitiveness maturely. Even with my toughest rivalries, I can assure you we are friends off track.” You smile, setting down the microphone to signal you had finished talking. 

There were murmurs of agreement in the audience, and your fellow drivers on stage nodded to affirm your statement.

“But,” the woman starts again, “currently, there is a battle between you and Lando Norris for third in the driver’s championship.” 

You nod, staring expectantly at the woman, wondering where she is going with this. 

“Yesterday in an interview with Sky Sports, he went on record to say,” she paused to look at her notes, before saying “‘With Y/N Y/L/N, I wouldn’t say what we have is a friendship, no.’” She finished. 

You feel your heart breaking into pieces.

“Really?” you ask, genuinely surprised. You look over to Lando across from you, noticing how he isn’t even looking back at you. He’s staring at his shoes, motionlessly. He couldn’t even look at you.

“Right… noted.” You finish, voice laced with venom.

Another reporter stands up.

“What do you think about that, Y/N?” He asks. 

You quickly snap out of your intense stare at Lando, turning to face the reporter on the other side of the room. 

“Well,” you say, forcing a laugh to diffuse the tension in the room “my feelings are hurt.” You shrug, maintaining a fake smile for the cameras. Thankfully, the room doesn’t linger on the moment for long, the host moving onto a new question.

You slouched in your chair, wishing you could just melt away to nothing. Your cheeks were burning a shameful red, which you hoped wouldn’t show up on the hundreds of pictures that are currently being taken of you. 

“Not friends?” The question swirled in your mind, plaguing your every thought. You couldn’t understand why Lando would say that about you. Everything seemed fine between the two of you. You never argue, you hang out whenever you can. And when you can’t, you’re texting or FaceTiming each other. You just didn’t get it. 

The rest of the room blurred in your periphery as you played with your hands in your lap. You felt a burning sensation in your eyes as tears threatened to fall down your face. But just as quick as the tears formed, they were quickly washed away by a strong sensation of anger taking over your body. All the time you spent together meant nothing to him. 

What a dick. 

___

As soon as the host called the session over, you put your microphone down and got up to leave. You were the first to go, storming out of the room as elegantly as you could. You exited into a service corridor, knowing that you could sneak around any media personnel looking for more questions from you here. 

“Y/N!” You hear a voice call from behind you. It was Lando. 

“Y/N!” He calls again, footsteps picking up in speed as he races to get to you. 

When he catches you, he gently takes your wrist, using the motion to turn you around to face him. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. About what happened back there, I’m sorry she embarrassed you like that.” He said breathlessly

“Oh, she was the one who embarrassed me?” You spat at Lando

“It was out of context, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.” He said, desperately trying to reason with you

“Then why didn’t you say something? You just sat there, staring at your feet.” You shot back at him

“I should’ve.” He sighed, searching your eyes for forgiveness.

“Oh. So you’re not only not my friend, you’re also spineless. Good to know, Lando.” You reply, shaking your wrist from his grip. 

Lando stands there, dumbfounded, watching your figure retreat down the hall. He wants nothing more than for you to look back at him, just for a moment, just to see your face. But you won’t, and the noise of the exit door slamming behind you snaps him out of his stare. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” He whispers to himself. 

_____

Throughout the rest of the weekend, Lando tried desperately to get you to notice him. He would watch you longingly as you fulfilled media duties, got in your car, out of your car, walked around the paddock, took pictures with fans. He would appear randomly while you were eating, or taking a break. He would include himself in conversations you were apart of. 

You rebuffed each of his attempts for attention with an incredibly polite cold shoulder. You were hurt, and he actually hadn’t apologised to you yet. He had texted you a few times asking to talk, but this race was too important to focus on resolving petty drama. You’d call him once it was all over. Maybe. 

Well, that’s what you had been telling yourself all weekend. But now it really was over, and you still hadn’t called him. 

The good thing about racing in Monaco was that you could actually sleep in your own apartment during the weekend, which was a rare and welcomed occasion. It was late, but you couldn’t sleep, your mind coming back to Lando every time you tried to close your eyes. It felt weird not talking to him, you kept each other sane during times like these. But now he wasn’t here for you, as he had been for so long, and you felt like a piece of you was missing. 

As you crawled out of bed to watch something on TV, you heard a sharp knocking at your door. You were hoping it was just someone at the wrong door, until you heard the knocking again. It was more desperate now, the rhythm becoming more sloppy. 

“Hello?” You called out, receiving more knocking as a response. 

You mutter obscenities to yourself as you put on more appropriate clothing, and trudge to the door annoyed. 

“Yes?” You say, swinging open the door.

It was Lando. He looked dishevelled. His curls were tousled and his eyes had deep bags underneath them. They were slightly puffy, as if he’d been crying. 

“Y/N, I can’t do this.” He exclaimed, stumbling into your apartment. You let him in, closing the door behind him. 

“Can’t do what Lando?” You ask, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“I can’t fight with you like this. I can’t not talk to you, I can’t be apart from you.” He stumbles over his words, and you see his eyes well up with tears. You instantly soften your gaze, pulling your arms from their defensive position.  “Lando…” Your voice trails off. You take his hand in yours and lead him to your couch to sit down. Even when you are both comfortable, he doesn’t let go.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I was so stupid in that interview, I got way too carried away with what I was saying.” He says slowly.

“What were you even trying to say, Lando?” You ask gently, appreciating finally receiving an apology from him. 

“Well- I meant what I said. What we have. It isn’t really a friendship, is it?” He responds, voice gaining confidence. 

“Something less?” You question, and he smiles in disbelief. 

“Something more, Y/N. We are so much more than friends.” You sit back in your seat, but he moves closer to you. 

“What- what do you mean?” You hesitate, watching Lando’s warm brown eyes glimmer in the moonlight. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” 

Something inside you clicked. All these years, there was an electricity between the two of you. You never let yourself think that way about him, worrying how a relationship with him would affect your career. But right now, you don’t care. You just want him. 

You didn’t say anything, but leaned towards him. He leaned in further, gently cupping one hand around the side of your face, and placing the other arm around your waist to anchor himself. His broad figure covered you completely, and you closed eyes while trying not to smile. His lips were so soft against yours, the scent of his cologne making you feel dizzy. His body felt warm as he pressed his torso against yours. You bucked your hips up, making him groan against you. He pulled his hand up, running his fingers through your hair as he moved down to kiss your neck and collarbones. You giggled at the tickling sensation, and he tentatively pulled away from you, taking a chance to fully admire your face. 

“I like this way more than being friends.”