SUMMARY : After being the joke of the family for the last few years because you always came home alone, you finally snapped and lied that you would bring a boyfriend to your cousin's wedding. Now, you just have to find the boyfriend.
PAIRING: lando norris x reader
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤
You were tired of being the family joke. Every Christmas, every birthday, every Sunday lunch, the question came like clockwork:
"So… where’s your boyfriend?"
There was even a running bet. Your mum, dad, aunts, and uncles had all put money on who would bring someone home first: you or your three-year-old niece. Every single vote was on the toddler.
When your cousin announced her wedding and the teasing reached a new level, you couldn’t take it anymore. In a moment of frustration, you blurted out that you had met someone. A handsome British guy. That you’d been seeing each other for a few months and you would bring him to the wedding in three weeks.
They stared at you in stunned silence… then laughed. “Stop imagining men, love,” your aunt said, patting your shoulder like you were a child.
That only made you double down. You insisted he was real . You promised he would come. And somehow, against all odds, they believed you.
Now you had three weeks to find a real, handsome, British man willing to pretend to be your boyfriend for an entire weekend.
You tried everything.
You drafted a ridiculous post you almost uploaded somewhere. You looked up actors for hire and nearly cried at the prices. You asked around at work, but almost everyone was married or taken.
You even stopped strangers on the street one desperate afternoon, only to realise halfway through the conversation how insane it sounded.
Days slipped by. The wedding got closer.
With only a few days left, you met your best friend at her apartment, looking like you hadn’t slept in a week.
She pulled out a notebook with a determined expression.
“Okay. Let’s be systematic. Handsome British man. Height?”
You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know… taller than me is fine. I don’t care.”
“Eye colour?”
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. This is my fake boyfriend, not my future husband.”
She scribbled notes, humming to herself. Then she looked up, eyes sparkling.
“I’ve got our guy.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t tell me this is Tinder on paper.”
“Lando Norris.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “You saved his ass five years ago. He owes you a favour. And I heard he’s back home right now.”
“That was forever ago. He won’t even remember me. He’s a world champion now.”
“Exactly. A favour is a favour. No matter how many championships he wins.”
You argued for nearly an hour. You overthought it for another hour after she left. But in the end, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, you typed the message with shaking fingers.
You : Hi Lando, it’s Y/N. I don’t know if you still remember me, but I really need that favour you promised me years ago. Could we meet up and talk?
You didn’t expect a reply anytime soon.
But he answered in under ten minutes.
You met at the old café you used to visit together years ago. It was quieter now, with only a few customers scattered around. He looked the same, but older. More confident.
The first few minutes were painfully awkward. Small talk about the weather, how long it had been, what you both did these days. Then you took a deep breath and told him everything.
You explained the family teasing. The lie. The wedding. The fact that you had painted him as this perfect British boyfriend.
When you finished, you stared at your coffee, cheeks burning.
“I know this is completely insane. You don’t have to say yes. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”
Lando was quiet for a long moment. Then he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.
“I was expecting something way worse when you said ‘favour.’ Like hiding a body or something. This? Pretending to be your boyfriend for a weekend? Yeah. I can do that.”
Relief flooded through you so strongly you almost cried. The next few days became a whirlwind of planning.
You built your story carefully: you had known each other years ago, reconnected a few months back when you ran into each other by chance, went on a date, and things had slowly turned romantic. It wasn’t entirely a lie, which made it easier to sell.
But your family was suspicious by nature. They would want proof.
So you spent an entire afternoon taking photos. You changed outfits, hairstyles, makeup, locations : park, your apartment, even a quick walk by the river. You made sure the pictures looked like they’d been taken over weeks, not hours.
At one point, after the tenth outfit change, you collapsed onto your couch.
“Lando, go buy flowers,” you said.
He was sprawled across your living room floor, looking exhausted. “Why?”
“Because you’re supposed to be a romantic boyfriend who spoils me. We need one last photo. Big bouquet. Make it convincing.”
He groaned but went anyway. When he came back with the biggest, most ridiculous bouquet you had ever seen, you couldn’t help but laugh. You added an empty gift box for good measure and took more pictures.
The hardest part came later that evening.
You fidgeted with your phone, avoiding his eyes.
“We… should probably practice kissing too. My family notices everything. If it looks awkward in front of them, they’ll know something’s wrong.”
Lando rubbed the back of his neck, but nodded slowly. “Yeah… you’re right.”
The first kiss was hesitant and stiff. You both pulled away, laughing awkwardly. The second was better. By the fifth or sixth, something shifted. The kisses grew slower, deeper, more natural. When you finally stepped back to check the photo you’d taken, your heart was beating way too fast.
Lando cleared his throat. “Your family… they don’t actually work for the FBI, right?”
You smiled weakly. “Sometimes I wonder.”
***
The flight and the car ride home were exactly as terrifying as you expected.
Your dad picked you both up from the airport and spent the entire drive asking Lando questions: about his job, his family, his intentions. Lando handled it well, but you could see the overwhelm in his eyes.
The next two days were a marathon. Every relative wanted to meet him. Every meal turned into an interrogation. Your aunt was the worst.
At dinner on the second night, after Lando had excused himself to rest, she leaned in.
“He’s lovely, really. But let’s be honest… he’s so out of your league it almost hurts. A famous, handsome, rich athlete… and you’re just you.”
You forced a smile and stayed quiet. You didn’t want drama before the wedding.
The wedding itself was beautiful. Soft blue tones everywhere, just like you’d told Lando. He wore the new suit perfectly. He held your hand, kissed your temple, danced with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Somewhere between the fake affection and the real laughter, the lines blurred. You caught yourself forgetting it was pretend more than once. And you were pretty sure he did too.
Then came the bouquet toss. You stood near the back, not even trying to catch it… and it landed straight in your arms.
Your cousin ran over, beaming. “The next wedding we’ll be celebrating is yours!” she said, looking between you and Lando.
You smiled tightly and nodded. Lando just gave you a small, amused look.
The next morning, as you packed to leave, your mum pulled you aside while your dad and Lando loaded the bags into the car.
“I’ll admit it,” she said softly, “I thought you might have made him up just to shut us up. But seeing you two together… I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. He looks at you like he really loves you. You deserve this.”
The guilt twisted in your chest.
On the plane ride home, you were quiet. When you reached your apartment, Lando carried your bags all the way upstairs, even though you told him he didn’t have to.
At your door, you turned to him with a tired smile.
“Thank you. Seriously. You can stop pretending now. No one’s watching anymore.”
He nodded, but didn’t move right away. For a few seconds he just looked at you, something unreadable in his eyes.
a british boy constantly being in greece because he loves a mermaid girl
face claim: annie schroter & pinterest girls
pairing: ollie bearman x oc evie
(a/n: i don’t know what this is, there were just a bunch of images and i decided to make it
∞ terrible greek translation)
bearmanarchive made a post
liked by user, user and 86K others
bearmanarchive ollie posting from greece again 🇬🇷
view all the comments
user 🇬🇷🇬🇷🇬🇷
user they’re still so private even when he posts her more now
user i know for a fact somebody there called him too skinny and put more food on his plate
↝ user HELP 🤣🤣
↝ user how can this happen in every family around the world 😂
user he looks fully adopted by her family now
user the random backyard dinners are always my favorite
user no because one week they’re in monaco, then greece, then england 😭
↝ user or another country for the races
olliebearman made a post
liked by eviebearman and 400K others
olliebearman some days lately
view all the comments
user EXCUSE ME SIR???
user WHO IS THE BABY????
user ollie casually posting a child with zero explanation is crazy work
↝ user i almost had a heart attack
user whose baby is that HELLO???
eviebearman she's my niece guys, chill
↝ olliebearman 😆😆
↝ user THANK YOU EVIE
↝ user OH MY GOD
↝ user he's really enjoying the commotion he's caused
user the way everyone immediately lost their minds 😭
user he actually looks natural holding a baby tho
↝ user stoppp
user evie is drop dead gorgeous
user ollie posting a baby with no explanation knowing damn well the internet would panic 😭
eviebearman made a post
liked by olliebearman and 86K others
eviebearman my nieces, NIECES 👍
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user THANK YOU FOR THE CLARIFICATION 😭
user the little girls in costumes 🥹
user the shell clip is SO pretty omg
olliebearman 😍😍😍
nikolasneris ❤❤❤
olliebearman i still think the panic was funny
↝ eviebearman 😒😒
↝ olliebearman 😮💨😮💨
user you can tell he loves her family a lot
user ollie we are your fans so your wife is our wife too 😃
↝ user YES
↝ user OUR mermaid
↝ user sharing is caring
↝ olliebearman 🤨🤨😠
↝ olliebearman absolutely not ❤️
user obsessed with them sorry
nikolasneris 🔒 has posted a new story
♥︎ by eviebearman, olliebearman and 407 others
bearmanwaves made a post
like by user, user and 46K others
bearmanwaves so cute 🤗🤗
view all the comments
user ok her dad definitely LOVES him 😭
user “my boys” oh she’s attached attached
user i feel like her dad treats him like an extra son
user the fact she posts her dad and brother all the time but never her mom…
↝ user not in a weird way but there’s definitely a difference there
↝ user yeah i noticed that too
user 🥰🥰🥰
user okay, but who won the chess game?
user guys remember that we only see what she wants to show us, let's not make assumptions about her family ♥︎ by bearmanwaves
olliebarchive posted a video
🎥 video: the video starts off shaky, filmed by evie. sunlight floods the room while colored pencils are scattered everywhere as ollie colors a book with evie’s niece
ollie's tongue sticks out slightly as he concentrates, while he instructs the little girl to color only within the lines
the little girl squints at him dramatically
"Θείε Όλιβερ… τα ελληνικά σου είναι ακόμα κάπως χάλια" (uncle oliver… your greek is still kinda bad)
ollie gasps like he’s been personally attacked
“Όχι, βελτιώνομαι!” (no, i’m improving!)
his accent is painfully british. the girl immediately bursts into laughter, nearly falling sideways in her chair
“Το είπες περίεργα!” (you said it weird!)
ollie points a crayon at her accusingly, his eyes narrowed
"Είσαι ένας νταής" (you’re a bully)
she grins proudly. then she notices his fake offended face and scoots closer, tiny hands grabbing his cheeks
"Μην στεναχωριέσαι… Ακόμα σε συμπαθώ" (don’t be sad… i still like you)
and then she gives him a tiny kiss on the cheek
the camera shakes because evie starts laughing quietly behind it while ollie melts completely, he looks at the camera as he laughs and says:
"i can't even pretend to be mad, she's so cute"
▶ 478K views ♥︎ 340K 💬 4,8K ↻ 12K
olliebarchive ollie with evie's niece and by extension, his niece as well
view all the comments
user THANK YOU ADMIN FOR THE TRANSLATION 😭😭😭
user the little girl bullying his greek accent IM CRYING
user she roasted him and comforted him in the same breath
user 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
user evie's laugh is so cute
user “don’t be sad i still like you” AND THE KISS ON THE CHEEK STOPPPPP
user why are kids like that? 😂😂
user the cheek kiss at the end fixed everything 😭
user that child absolutely adores him you can tell
eviebearman made a post
liked by olliebearman and 144K others
eviebearman before we leave 🌊
view all the comments
user the cat is so cutee
user she really takes the best pictures of him
olliebearman you make everything look prettier than it is ♥︎ by eviebearman
olliebearman can you send me the first pic?
↝ eviebearman done 😎
user they match so naturally it’s ridiculous
user is the kitten a stray? did you adopt him?
↝ eviebearman no, no, he has an owner
thomasbearman1 next time, take me with you
↝ olliebearman no
↝ eviebearman YES, honey, we'll take you
↝ thomasbearman1 😁😁
summary: Oscar and reader get to know each other as reader comes to terms with her hearing disability.
contains: reader has a hearing disability (tinnitus and hyperacusis — so hypersensitivity to sound, not deaf) and is in the process of getting hearing aids to ease the tinnitus. reader is lando’s friend. crack. fluff. a little bit of angst. idiots in love. miscommunication duh. a hint of jealousy maybe. swearing.
“So, wait, not even Lando knows about it?”
You sat in front of Oscar at a cute café. He'd given you his number two days ago, at the yacht party and you hadn't expected him to ask you out so soon. Or ever, for that matter. Especially with how your first encounter had gone.
“No, we… We're best friends, yes, but I was so caught up with graduating, that I hadn't seen him in months, almost a year. Sometimes I still have a hard time realizing that I have a proper diagnosis and that I should probably tell people about it, you know?” you shrugged.
Oscar nodded slowly, quietly. You’d explained a little more about your hearing discomfort, the constant ringing in your ears, needing hearing aids to soothe it, and having to protect your ears as much as possible in the meantime. Which meant you were either wearing earplugs or noise canceling headphones.
You'd appreciated his efforts to speak a little louder than he usually did when you wore earplugs — he'd actually never realized how quiet he could sound and how much harder it made it for people with a hearing disability.
He was now very aware of the way he used his voice, and it was thanks to you.
His eyes went from your ears, to your eyes, pensive. You hated how much that made your breath stutter, heart flutter and cheeks turn pink. You focused on your coffee, bringing the cup to your lips.
When you put it down, Oscar's lips twitched into a smirk. Soon enough, he was trying hard not to smile — and failing miserably.
“What?” you wondered aloud, a smile of your own growing.
“Nothin', you uh…” he cleared his throat, eyes fixed somewhere on your upper lip. “You've foam on your-”
“Shit” your eyes widened, cheeks turning red.
Your life was a freaking comedy, at this point. You brought your paper to your lip and dabbed the foam away.
“Well, there goes my aura” you joked but you regretted the words coming out of your mouth. So not cool.
“What're you talking about? That was very cute” he mumbled shyly, looking away.
You froze for a split second, a chuckle escaping your lips.
You heard a chair scrape the floor nearby but didn't register that it was the one immediately behind you and Oscar's table. You saw him look up at someone then give you a slight nod before you turned around.
“Sorry, could you move your chair, a little, please?” a woman asked, sighing dramatically.
You noticed how small the space was behind you and immediately moved your chair. You mumbled a small excuse.
You turned back to Oscar, leaning over the table in conspiracy.
“What’s up with the attitude?” you whispered.
“I know” he said, jaw clenching as he sent daggers at the woman's back behind you.
It dawned on him how little patience and compassion people had in everyday life and he had been the first one to give you that same attitude when he hadn't known about your condition. He silently promised himself he would do everything possible to make your life easier, even if that included insulting some people who were rude to you.
— ★
Eventually, you start hanging at the McLaren garage more and more often — until the noises drain your battery and you leave suddenly. People don't think much of it until they notice your seemingly aloof attitude. They think you're just in your own world, your own bubble.
The difference in your attitude doesn't go unnoticed by your best friend.
One afternoon before training he sees you sipping cola in the suite. You're sitting on the couch, phone in hand, watching something attentively. You don't notice his presence behind you but you do hear a faint sound.
“Hey, goofball”.
No reaction. It's only when you feel a hand on your shoulder that you turn your head in his direction. He's frowning, worried.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. You have to partially read the words on his lips. You remove the earplugs, the hospitality suite is quiet enough to not hurt your ears anyway.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn't hear-“
“Wait, it's already quiet here, what's up with the earplugs?” he sat next to you, curious.
You shift in your seat. You hadn't expected to tell him like this.
Oscar steps inside the room and you notice him in the distance. He sees the earplugs in your hands and reads Lando's confused look. He sends you a small smile and an encouraging nod.
You sigh.
You tell Lando about the diagnosis. About why, all those years, your need to be in quiet spaces had grown vital. About how your head and ears were constantly buzzing, even when it was quiet. You tell him about the relief of finally putting a name on it, and getting hearing aids soon. You don't mention the uncertainty, the doubts that have been plaguing you lately. How a part of you is a little scared of what's next, how you'll adapt, adjust to a different way of living, hearing, conversing.
His eyes immediately soften. He pulls you in for a hug.
“Why didn't you immediately tell me?”
His voice is soft, not accusatory. If anything, he's angry at himself for not noticing the difference earlier.
“I don't know” you say. Because you don't. Or maybe you do, but don't want to admit it. That it scares you a little. That you're different.
He rubs soothing circles on your back. When he leans away, he's smiling.
“And when were you going to tell me you've been on a date with Oscar?”
You shush him immediately, nervous chuckle escaping your lips. You search for the blonde in the corner of your eye but he’d already left the room.
“Stop! It wasn't like that. I mean, I don't think it was?”
“Are you sure? Because every time I see him, he's looking at you with heart eyes” said Lando flatly, clearly not buying it.
You shake your head, not believing a single word but a part of you, very deep down, is hanging onto whatever hope he's mirroring.
“So…” he begins, and the mischief in his eyes is threatening. “Now that you've graduated uni, you're much more free, aren't you?” not entirely a question. He expects you to say yes. Because he knows you will.
You nod, glaring at his evil smirk.
“Perfect. Then you won't mind coming to this gala event in Monaco next week” he mumbles the sentence, then looks at the earplugs in your hands for reassurance.
“I heard that, idiot, and yes I do mind!” you sigh dramatically.
He laughs, “Oh come on, please? I promise you're gonna have so much fun. And if you don't, at least Oscar's gonna be there…”
“Ah ha, if you think this is gonna work-”
“I know it's working” he gets up and leaves the room, his decision final.
And the worst part? He's right, it is working.
— ★
You step into the gala room and realize you've made a terrible mistake.
You'd decided to not wear your earplugs. One evening dealing with the real music of the world couldn't hurt, right? Also, yes, your hairstyle did reveal your ears and you didn't feel like attracting attention by wearing earplugs. Superficial much? Yes. But soon you'd have your hearing aids, so you thought you'd take a chance and see how it goes.
Well, as soon as you step inside, the sounds are overwhelming. The clinking of glasses and plates, the heels and rush of people nearby, the sounds of the fabrics and cameras, and worst of all, the constant chatter. The voices everywhere. Each sound is magnified and you realize you are not lasting multiple hours in this environment.
Your arm is intertwined in Lando's and as the cameras start clicking in your direction, you can't help but murmur “This is going to make the rumors so much worse”.
He looks at you, frowning for a second before he smiles for the cameras.
“No it won't and you need to stop obsessing over what people say. You need a PR manager at this point” he says calmly.
You sigh and hope for the best. What else can you do?
The minute Oscar sees you with Lando, his chest tightens. He realizes he should’ve invited you to the gala. That you should be by his arm, right now, not his teammate’s.
You’re wearing a very elegant dress — but it’s understated, like you don’t want to disturb, don’t want to stand out and he knows you enough now, to see through your choices. And yet even in this dress, he cannot take his eyes off of you.
Eventually the bustle around you and Lando dies down and you accompany him to talk and meet people — a lot of them, each one more important than the last.
At some point Lando sees someone in the distance. He gently squeezes your arm “I'll be right back” he tells you, and leaves.
Well, there goes your "fun night". You're alone, with a growing headache from the constant chatter and your heels are also beginning to hurt your feet. At least, no miscommunication happened with all the people you met — you heard them loud and clear. Way too loud, you thought bitterly.
Suddenly, you feel a hand grazing your elbow. You turn around to see Oscar looking dashing in his suit.
Black suits him a lot.
“Hey- oh, you're not wearing your earplugs” he immediately notices. And while every sound is magnified without your protection, his voice still drowns in the crowd’s.
“Yes, and it's a fucking mistake. I forgot how loud any event gets for me, even when there's no music. Just the… constant chatter…” you trail off, looking around the room. Your head is starting to buzz.
He's about to say something but an old man (some investor, apparently) comes around to talk with Oscar, who immediately stops you from leaving, his hand hovering over your lower back. They talk for a few minutes, and Oscar introduces you to the man, not wanting you to feel left out of the conversation. Said man asks about you, and you find yourself easing into the conversation, smiling, but still hyperaware of all the sounds around.
Oscar notices the second your smile goes from effortless to frozen and forced. He sees your fingers tense around the champagne glass, sees how you wince every time some sound erupts too close (the clinking of a glass, a loud laugh). The vein on your forehead is a pop away when Oscar gently excuses the two of you and guides you to the outskirts of the crowd, his hand warm on your lower back.
Your heartbeat drums in your ears at the contact and you can’t help but peek at his profile. He is the picture of royalty, shoulders back, standing straight, guiding you away from everyone.
His eyes catch yours and suddenly you don’t know how to breathe anymore.
Worst, he winks.
Casually. Like it’s as normal as saying ‘hello’.
Before you realize it, the two of you are standing outside, peeking downstairs by the balcony. The air is fresh and most of all, it’s quiet here. You feel like you can breathe easier.
He notices the way your shoulders relax. The way you close your eyes in relief.
“Having a headache?”
You blink.
“How did you know?” your voice is quiet. Your ears are buzzing louder than usual, already.
“I’ve done some research” he shrugs.
Why is he being so casual about this? This man has gone on one date with you and he already knows more than the average about your conditions?
“Why didn't you wear your earplugs tonight?” he asks, after a silence.
You watch him. Because he sounds genuinely curious and you don't remember the last time someone noticed a single thing about your demeanor or habits. His eyes don't waver, don't shy away and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.
“I wanted to… look normal, I guess” you shrug, looking at the starry sky.
He hums. Not dismissive, contemplative in the few seconds of silence that follow. Then,
“I know it's a tough transition. I can't speak for how you feel deep down, but people have to accept you as you are, not as you should be. And you should never feel like you have to compromise your health to feel seen and welcomed.”
Your head snaps towards him. He's taken a step closer and you think it's too much. Not the noises, not the proximity.
But the sweetness of it all. The softness of his voice. The careful words. The solid eyes that anchor you to this world.
You feel a knot in your throat but you're not sad. You're surprised by how seen and understood you feel by him.
Thank you, you manage to mouth.
His eyes drop to your lips and you think this is it. Your heartbeat is thrumming, your body buzzes under the proximity. You could swear he was leaning in-
Of course Lando 'I gotta ruin the moment' Norris had to show up.
“Hey, I've been searching every- Woah, sorry” he's about to leave but Oscar has already taken a step back and so have you.
“Nope, guys, go on, sorry, I didn't mean to interr-” Lando says as he steps back, a grin splitting his face.
“I'm going back to the hotel, actually!” you say cheerfully. Way too cheerfully.
You step away from the two boys, embarrassment flushing your cheeks but you stop in front of Lando before leaving altogether,
“Thanks for abandoning me, Norris” sarcasm dripping from your voice.
And with that, you leave the premises, missing the way Lando smiles at Oscar.
“All according to plan” he mumbles.
“What plan?” says Oscar.
“Don’t you worry” Lando taps his back in friendly fashion, guiding him back inside. “Come on, Zak is looking for us”.
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)
Part of the The mysterious Mrs. Piastri Series.
Summary:
Oscar gets a species of wasps named after him. Bee has thoughts.
Warnings and Notes: ...Oscar gets roasted by a 5 year old. That's the story 😂
Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂
Oscar found out about the wasp because Lando sent him seventeen messages in a row.
That was usually how disasters started.
Oscar was sitting in the kitchen at Lavender House, one hand wrapped around a mug of tea, the other bouncing Nell gently against his hip while she gnawed on the corner of his hoodie string with the fierce determination of an eight-month-old who had discovered textiles.
Felicity was at the island, slicing strawberries for Bee’s breakfast, hair piled on top of her head, wearing one of his old McLaren jumpers..
Oscar’s phone started vibrating next to his plate..
Once.
Twice.
Then it lit up like a Christmas tree.
Oscar frowned. “Lando,” he said.
Felicity didn’t even look up. “What did he break?”
“Emotionally or physically?”
“Both are possible.”
Oscar picked up the phone.
Lando: MATE
Lando: MATE
Lando: YOU’RE A BUG
Lando: OSCAR
Lando: ANSWER ME
Lando: YOU HAVE A WASP
Oscar blinked.
“What?”
Felicity looked up then. “Sorry?”
Oscar scrolled.
Lando had sent a link, three screenshots, and what appeared to be a badly cropped meme of Oscar’s face edited onto a wasp.
Oscar opened the article.
Then read the headline.
Then read it again.
Apparently, a newly described fossil wasp from Burmese amber had been named Gwesped piastrii after him. The amber was from the mid-Cretaceous period, around 98–100 million years old, and the name partly honored Oscar because the amber reminded the author of McLaren papaya.
Oscar stared at his phone.
Nell tugged harder on his hoodie string.
Felicity slowly set down the knife. “What is it?”
“I think…” Oscar said carefully, “I think somebody named a wasp after me.”
Silence.
The kitchen went very quiet.
Then Felicity’s face did something dangerous.
The corners of her mouth twitched. Once. Twice.
And then she absolutely lost it.
Not a polite laugh. Not a soft laugh. A full, bent-over-the-counter, one-hand-braced-beside-the-strawberries laugh.
Oscar stared at her.
“I’m glad this is funny to you.”
She tried to speak. Failed. Waved a hand at him.
Bee’s head snapped up from her porridge. “Papa got a wasp?”
Oscar looked down at the screenshot again, still feeling like this was somehow one of those fake headlines Lando sent when he was bored.
“Apparently.”
Bee scrambled up immediately and came to stand beside him, chin barely clearing the table but eyes sharp and interested.
“Can I see?”
Oscar handed her the phone without hesitation, because Bee was five now and could navigate scientific abstracts with more confidence than most adults Oscar knew.
Bee squinted.
Her lips moved silently over the scientific name.
“Gwes… ped… pias… tree-eye?”
“Piastrii,” Felicity supplied, still laughing under her breath.
Bee frowned. “That sounds like us.”
“It is us,” Oscar said. “Sort of.”
Bee squinted at the article. “It is extinct,” she announced.
Oscar frowned. “The wasp?”
“Yes, Papa. Obviously the wasp. It is from the Cretaceous period.”
Felicity’s shoulders were shaking.
Oscar looked between them. “Why does my daughter sound like David Attenborough?”
Bee ignored him, already scrolling.
“It is over one hundred million years old.” She paused, then looked up at Oscar with thoughtful seriousness. “That makes sense.”
Oscar frowned. “Why does that make sense?”
Bee patted his forearm kindly. “Because you are old.”
Felicity turned away from the counter.
Her shoulders shook.
Oscar stared at his eldest daughter. “I’m twenty-five.”
Bee nodded again. “Yes. Very old.”
Felicity lost it.
She laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the counter, and Nell, delighted by the noise, started giggling in Oscar’s arms — a gummy, breathless little sound that made the entire kitchen brighter.
Oscar looked down at the baby in his arms. “Not you too.”
Nell slapped his chest again. “Ba!”
“Betrayal,” Oscar muttered.
Nell made a happy squeaking sound and smacked Oscar’s chin with one damp fist.
“Thank you, Nell,” he muttered. “Very supportive.”
Bee had gone back to reading. Her brow furrowed.
“It went extinct sixty-six million years ago,” she said. “With the dinosaurs.”
Oscar leaned one hip against the counter. “That feels a bit harsh.”
“The asteroid was very bad for many species,” Bee said gravely.
Felicity, still laughing silently, managed, “She’s not wrong.”
Bee scrolled again, then stopped.
Her expression changed. Bee looked up slowly. “Papa.”
“Yes?”
“You got a wasp.”
“I didn’t ask for one.”
“I am Bee. You are my Papa.”
“Correct.”
“So you should have got a bee named after you because of me.”
Oscar leaned back in his chair.
Honestly, airtight logic.
Felicity kissed the top of Bee’s head. “Maybe someone will name a bee after you one day.”
Bee brightened. “Bees are better than wasps.”
Felicity covered her mouth.
Oscar shifted Nell higher on his hip. “I’m not sure I should comment.”
Bee crossed her arms, tiny and furious in dinosaur pyjamas. “Bees help flowers. Bees make honey. Bees are important for the environment. Wasps are—” She paused, searching for the harshest insult available to a five-year-old. “Mean.”
“Wasps are also pollinators,” Felicity offered, because apparently she had chosen violence.
Bee turned her betrayed gaze on her mother. “Some wasps are pollinators. Some are parasitoids. Bees are better.”
Oscar murmured, “Careful, Fliss. You’re about to get peer-reviewed.”
Bee pointed at the phone. “This wasp does not even help the environment anymore because it is dead.”
Oscar pressed his lips together. “That’s a strong point.”
“It is extinct,” Bee said, with the devastating finality of a judge delivering sentence. “And it is not even orange.”
Felicity wheezed.
Oscar looked down at Nell, who was now trying to eat his collarbone. “Do you have an opinion on this?”
Nell blew a raspberry.
“Thank you.”
Bee climbed back onto her chair, pulling Oscar’s phone closer. “I need to read the full paper.”
Oscar blinked. “The scientific paper?”
“Yes.”
“You’re five.”
“I can read.”
“I know you can read, but—”
Felicity, traitorously, handed Bee her tablet. “There’s probably a PDF.”
Oscar looked at his wife. “You’re encouraging this.”
“I married you at eighteen. My standards for sensible decision-making are historically inconsistent.”
“Does the paper have pictures?”
Felicity leaned over Bee’s shoulder. “It might have diagrams.”
Bee brightened. “Good. I like diagrams.”
Felicity, still smiling, pulled up the journal page on the tablet. “We can read it together.”
Bee leaned forward immediately, all outrage forgotten in the presence of new information.
Oscar watched his wife and daughter bend over the tablet together, Felicity explaining amber fossils and preserved insect morphology while Bee nodded like she was attending a conference panel.
Nell drooled down his hoodie.
Oscar sighed.
“I get a species named after me and somehow I’m still the least impressive person in this kitchen.”
Felicity looked up, eyes sparkling. “You did get an extinct wasp.”
Bee nodded without looking away from the article. “A very old dead wasp.”
Oscar stared at her.
Then at Felicity.
Then down at Nell.
“Right,” he said. “Thank you, family. Very proud moment for me.”
Bee finally looked up, expression softening slightly. “It is still cool, Papa.”
Oscar’s chest softened.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “Because someone found something very old and special and thought about you.”
That hit him harder than he expected.
He looked down at the image of the tiny fossilised insect on his phone. Something trapped in amber for over a hundred million years.
Something that had existed before humans, before racing, before noise and engines and championship points.
And somehow, absurdly, it had his name.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That is pretty cool.”
Bee leaned back, satisfied.
Then added, “But next time, ask for a bee.”
Felicity laughed softly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.
Oscar looked at his daughters — Bee, brilliant and indignant on behalf of pollinators; Nell, drooling on his hoodie like it was her life’s work — and thought that no extinct wasp, no trophy, no headline in the world was ever going to beat this.
Still.
He looked back at the phone.
“Over one hundred million years old,” he muttered.
Bee smiled brightly. “It’s okay, Papa. You look good for your age.”
Then she read the name again, very slowly.
“Gwesped piastrii.”
Oscar waited.
Bee looked up.
“Can I draw it?”
“Of course.”
She slid off the stool and ran for her insect notebook, the one covered in stickers of bees, butterflies, and beetles.
Felicity watched her go, still smiling.
Oscar looked at his wife. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“I’m married to an ancient wasp,” she said. “Let me have this.”
“It’s scientifically significant.”
“It is,” she agreed, leaning over to kiss Nell’s cheek, then Oscar’s. “My very significant fossil.”
He gave her a flat look.
She grinned.
A few seconds later, Bee returned with pencils, a magnifying glass, and the intensity of someone preparing a museum exhibit.
She sat at the table and began drawing.
The wasp had six legs, wings, a tiny helmet, and — for reasons Oscar couldn’t begin to unpack — his number on its back.
Underneath, in careful letters, she wrote:
PAPA WASP OLD EXTINCT IMPORTANT BUT NOT AS GOOD AS BEES
Oscar read it.
Then looked at Felicity.
Felicity was biting her lip so hard she looked like she might injure herself.
Bee added one final note at the bottom.
DIED WITH DINOSAURS. SAD.
Oscar sighed.
Nell slapped one tiny hand against his cheek.
Bee looked up proudly. “I’m going to show Lando.”
Oscar immediately reached for his phone.
“No—”
Too late.
Bee had already climbed off the chair, drawing in hand, heading for Felicity’s phone because she had learned exactly which adult was easier to manipulate.
Felicity handed it over without shame.
Oscar stared at her.
“Traitor.”
Felicity smiled, radiant and unrepentant.
“She’s peer reviewing your species.”
By lunch, Lando had sent back twelve crying-laughing emojis, Mark had replied with ‘finally, a Piastri with wings’, and Nicole had asked whether Bee wanted a book on fossil insects.
Bee did.
Obviously.
Oscar looked around the kitchen — Felicity laughing softly into her tea, Nell chewing on a silicone spoon, Bee lecturing Button the Frog about amber preservation and ecological value — and thought, not for the first time, that his life had become very strange.
He had a formula 1 seat. 2 daughters. A Genius wife. Nearly a dozen race wins… and a wasp species named after himself.
“Papa?” Bee said.
“Yeah?”
“If you are a wasp, does that mean you sting?”
Oscar glanced at Felicity.
Felicity’s eyes gleamed.
He sighed. “Only on track.”
Bee considered that.
Then nodded.
“Okay. That is acceptable.”
And just like that, apparently, he had been scientifically approved.
***
Meanwhile on Twitter:
@/OscarPiastri:
Apparently there is now an extinct wasp named after me. This is very cool.
Can it be a bee next time, maybe? My daughter had thoughts.
@/OscarPiastri:
(She also said it makes sense the wasp is extinct “because you’re old”, so I’m having a great morning, thank you for asking.)
@/f1paddocktea:
OSCAR TWEETING “can it be a bee next time, maybe? my daughter had thoughts” IS TAKING ME OUTTTT
@/papayascientist:
Bee Piastri said “congratulations on the taxonomic honour but I have notes”
@/fossilfuelledf1:
“my daughter had thoughts” = Bee wrote a full peer-reviewed rebuttal titled WHY BEES ARE BETTER THAN WASPS
@/piastriupdates:
Oscar has been a wife guy, a girl dad, a chicken dad, and now apparently an extinct wasp. The range.
@/AcademicF1Girl:
As someone who works in taxonomy I am begging the scientists to name an actual bee after Oscar next because Bee Piastri has clearly opened a formal complaint.
@/formulabee:
“Can it be a bee next time maybe” HE SOUNDS SO TIRED 😭 that child absolutely lectured him over breakfast.
@/beepiastrination:
Bee Piastri has standards. Bees pollinate. Wasps chase people at picnics. She’s RIGHT.
@/landoscarbrainrot:
He didn’t tweet “this is an honour.” He tweeted “my five-year-old has filed a complaint.” That’s fatherhood.
@/fossilwasposcar:
New username acquired. Thank you, science.
@/f1girlie44:
“my daughter had thoughts” is the most ominous thing oscar piastri has ever tweeted
@/papayaprints:
Bee Piastri heard her father got a WASP named after him and immediately convened an environmental ethics committee.
@/boxboxbee:
Oscar: very honoured
Bee: actually bees are better for the environment and this is taxonomically offensive
@/papayaenthusiast:
Oscar being immortalized in science and immediately using the moment to report that his daughter disapproved is peak Oscar.
@/academicwag:
The sentence “my daughter had thoughts” is so funny because you just know Bee had a full presentation ready.
@/norrisnation:
The funniest part is Oscar did not say “my daughter was excited.” He said “my daughter had thoughts.” That child had CRITICISMS.
@/piastrination:
Scientists: we named a new fossil species after you!
Oscar: thank you :)
Bee: why not a pollinator with stronger environmental credentials
@/graveltrapgirl:
Bee Piastri being personally offended that her name is Bee and Oscar got a wasp named after him is actually so valid.
@/beesbeforewasps:
NEW USERNAME UNLOCKED THANK YOU BEE PIASTRI
@/turnonechaos:
The way Bee is going to grow up and discover this thread and be like “yes, I was correct.”
@/papayafossil:
Oscar didn’t get a wasp named after him. Bee got a new research topic and Oscar happened to be involved.
@/f1archivegirl:
Oscar’s entire online presence is just:
dry race comment
dry race comment
daughter says I should have a bee named after myself, and also that I am old
dry race comment
@/F1:
Race winner. Dad. Now fossil wasp.
Oscar Piastri’s résumé keeps growing.
@/papayapiastri:
OSCAR GETTING A WASP NAMED AFTER HIM AND BEE PIASTRI BEING OFFENDED ON BEHALF OF ACTUAL BEES 😭😭😭
@/oldmanoscar:
“because you’re old ”
OSCAR IS 25 😭😭😭
@/piastriarchive:
Oscar really has the most insane soft launch-to-hard launch family lore ever:
2024: surprise wife and daughter
2025: surprise second baby
2026: surprise extinct wasp
@/sciencegirlf1:
Oscar: “I got a species named after me!”
Bee: “Incorrect pollinator. Revise and resubmit.”
@/fossilf1:
As a paleontology student and F1 fan, I need everyone to understand that Bee Piastri demanding a bee species instead is the greatest public engagement with taxonomy we have had in years.
@/carbonfiberbee:
Oscar Piastri accidentally making his five-year-old daughter care about extinct hymenoptera is exactly the content I needed.
@/landoscaragenda:
NOT OSCAR ASKING THE SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY TO NAME A BEE AFTER HIM NEXT BECAUSE HIS FIVE YEAR OLD WAS UNIMPRESSED
@/mclarenorange33:
some drivers celebrate species being named after them. oscar immediately gets bullied by his own child. perfect.
@/sciencegirlieF1:
Bee Piastri discovering her father’s namesake species went extinct with the dinosaurs and deciding that makes sense because “Papa is old” is genuinely the funniest thing I have ever heard.
the canadian gp comes around again and you can only hope this weekend is different from last year's race.
lando norris x f!reader ୨୧ warnings : language, fan culture, hate comments, referenced / implied sex, bambi!yn cameo ୨୧ note : if you enjoy don't forget to comment/reblog!
part of the lando's heart series.
📅 may 18, 2026
cherryn just updated their story !
replies :
user STOP THEY WENT MINI GOLFING TOO
user omg lando really making you work girl 😆
user oh mini golfing is so cuteeeeee 💖 i'm glad you guys got to go out do it
user lol girl you LOVE mini golf more than actual golf don't you 😂
cherryn i dooooooo 🥺
user HOLY SHIT YOU RESPONDED ILY SO MUCH GIRL 🫶
user the TWO pink golf balls is so cute
user are you good at paddle?? i know you've been playing it for a good bit now 🤪
cherryn some might even say better than lando 🤫
📅 may 19, 2026
♫ LE SSERAFIM · Celebrate
cherryn montreal date 🌱🪵🪻🇨🇦👢 w/ alexabearrrr
View all 738,498 comments
lando can't wait for our date tomorrow 🧡
cherryn damn you're so CUTE 😫 fuck me
lando already do that but will happily go again 🫡
user AGAIN????? MY PARENTS ARE HORNDOGS
user wow 😮 let's act surprised the horniest couple on the grid FUCKS
alexabearrrr so glad we got to spend the day together ❤️
cherryn i knowwww i missed seeing you so much 🥺 but i'm glad i got to see you and bear!!
alexabearrrr omg bear was so excited when he knew you were coming 😆 thank you for bringing lando along as well!!
lando glad i could make his day 😆
user I LOVE YOU QUEEN ❤️
user LOVE FROM BRAZIL
user omg love the pic of you and lando 😂
user who is this alexa girl with yn??
user i think another content creator who lives in montreal – her and yn have done collabs before in the past! they usually hangout during the canadian gp
user alexa seems to posts about fashion as well along with like mom content – she has a five year old son named bear!
user ahhhhh i was wondering who bear when in their comments 😂
user beautiful 😍
user 🐷🐷🐷
📅 may 20, 2026
♫ Creepy Nuts · Otonoke
cherryn got dragged around montreal 🇨🇦 b4 going to check out lando's pop-up store! go check it out if you're able to this weekend 💚
View all 736,498 comments
lando pretty sure you dragged me around 🤨 not the other way around
cherryn hushhhhhhhhhhhh 🤫
lnfour glad you stopped by with lando 🙌 liked by author
blytheyn so stylish ✨
cherryn thank you pretty 😊
user NEW NAILS ARE SO PRETTY
user LANNNNNDOOOOOOOOOO 😍😍
user i'm going to the pop-up 💚💚💚 hope to get one of those skateboards 🤩
user you always eat with the matching sets 😍
user omg if she got new nails today that meant lando went with her 😂 that's such a boyfriend thing to do lol
user that means he also probs paid for them too 🤭
user didn't he mention before that he likes when she gets her nails done??
user he has!! i've always wondered why though 🤔
user i don't think it would take a mclaren engineer to figure that one out 🍆✊
user WAIT REALLY 😳
user i mean its not confirmed but knowing how obsessed lando is with her i wouldn't be surprised
📅 may 21, 2026
clip #1 – yn walking into the mclaren hospitality during media day!
the clip starts out already filming you as you are seen walking through the somewhat crowded paddock talking with a mclaren team member. your pink dress moving softly as you walked, one hand holding your pink lady dior bag while your other one rested against your stomach.
you and the mclaren team member were walking towards hospitality as you continue to talk and laugh. the team member lets you go first into hospitality before they are following close behind you.
before the clip cuts off, it manages to catch you rubbing your stomach slowly before you disappear inside.
💬 comments :
👤 : omg her and lando were matching today 🥺🥺🥺 the pink suits both of them sooooooo well
👤 : her media day looks NEVER fail 🤩 this is probs my second fave media day look of her's this season (the first is still miami obv)
👤 : umm... anyone think its weird she's holding her stomach like she is???
👤 : oh i wished she wore different shoes 😭 those damn speedcat pumas are ruining the look 😭
📅 may 22, 2026
♫ aespa · Licorice
cherryn does this make me a farmer now 🥕 🍆 🫚 🥦 🍅 🧅 🫛 gentlemonster
View all 874,849 comments
lando you don't even eat half of those vegetables 🤨
cherryn SHUT UP AND STOP EXPOSING ME YOU MUPPET
user NOT YN CALLING LANDO A MUPPET 😂
gentlemonster love love love liked by author
alexandramalenaleclerc so cute ❤️ liked by author
ari.archive ❤️💚🤎💛 liked by author
withmia the cutest farmer 💚 liked by author
rebeccadonaldson ❤️❤️❤️❤️ liked by author
valentinexx the vegetables are giving like yokai watch vibes
cherryn omg bc i thought the same thing 😆
withmia WAIT NO–
blytheyn omg those are so cute
cherryn let me know what pair you like and i'll them to you tomorrow!
blytheyn omg no stop 🥺 i couldn't
cherryn wait why is that emoji literally you HKJKFHDS i'm HOLLERING
user oh i LOVE when gentlemonster sends you their glasses
user so iconic girl 💚 love youuuuuuuu
user SO PRETTY
📅 may 23, 2026
f1wagsgossip y/n – lando's girlfriend – has just updated her insta story with a picture of herself and kimi's new girlfriend – also y/n, but fans have dubbed as bambi – hanging out together. is this the start of a new iconic duo 👀
📸 credits to cherryn
View all 23,192 comments
user UMMMM I FUCKING HOPE THIS THE START OF A NEW ICONIC DUO
user yn adopting bambi like how lando and the older drivers have adopted kimi is SO CUTE I LOVE IT
user bambi is gonna learn how to wag from the it-girl herself 🤩
user sorry but yn is NOT the it-girl you think she is 😂
user its crazy how fast some of these wags just latch onto each other lol kimi's gf has only been to two races and already hanging out with another wag 😮💨 seems like she's trying to hard
user that's what i was thinking... i expect her "private" insta to become public once kimi is wdc...
user ^^
user i give her till summer break to make it public
user think i would rather bambi be with yn than miss finance 💀
user STOP NOT MISS FINANCE 😭
clip #2 – lando carrying her purse is peak bf vibes 🤌
the clip is filmed only a few feet from where you and lando are spotted walking down the paddock together. fingers and shoulders caught brushing from how close you both are walking together. its after sprint with a few hours left before qualifying, and its obvious the two of you are on your way back to hospitality.
lando's hand is caught touching your back for a moment as you lean closer to say something to him. he smiles and nods, lips pressing close to your ear so you can hear him over the paddock noise. some fans come up with pens and hats and phones and lando does quick signatures and selfies before he's waving to others.
then– that's when the camera catches effortlessly taking your vivienne westwood purse from your wrist and holding it in his hands. you are seen shyly laughing and saying something to him, reaching for your purse but he's moving it out of reach with a smug look on his face.
you let out a huff as you let him carry your bag and the clip cutting after soon afterwards.
💬 comments :
👤 : isn't that the same one he got her for valentine's day??? i can only imagine the bag collection lando alone has gotten her over the years
👤 : landoooooo 😭😭😭 to have a boyfriend/husband like him would be the dream
👤 : him moving the bag away when yn reached for it FHJKSFHS that's SO CUTE
👤 : MY PARENTS 💕💕💕💕
clip #3 – THEY SHOWED YN ON THE BROADCAST 🤩 SHE'S SO STUNNING
the clip is taken from the official f1 live – its showing live feed of the qualifying race before it then suddenly cuts to show you sitting in lando's garage. the mclaren headphones over your ears as your eyes are focused intently on the screen.
as it shows you, that's when your name pops up on screen:
Y/N L/N
Stylist & Lando Norris' Partner
your eyes are caught flickering to the camera that is only about a foot away from you. your eyebrows quirking up before they move back to the screen as if to say 'go back to the race, please!' then it soon cuts from you to back to the race.
💬 comments :
👤 : she was FOCUSED on watching qualifying 😂 she's so like us lol
👤 : omg when she made eye contact with the camera 😂😂 she really wanted them to get out of her face
👤 : oh she looked STRESSED
👤 : i always laugh when they show yn on screen bc you KNOW she lowkey hates it
📅 may 24, 2026
clip #3 – yn arriving at the paddock with lando on race day 💕
the camera has a clear shot of you walking in with lando. both of you wearing jackets as there's a light drizzle – nothing too serious just a few drops here and there.
the british driver is then caught turning to you, "zip your jacket, baby. its cold," he's heard saying. you immediately pout at him, cheeks puffing before you're zipping up your pink selkie jacket and then adjusting your purse so it doesn't fall off your shoulder.
lando smiles at you before he's linking his hand with yours, "happy?" you teasingly say and he nods in response which makes you laugh.
the clip ends once the two of you walk past the person recording.
💬 comments :
👤 : omg why do i lowkey love her outfit – its a little more simple than what she does but like... still so her 😍
👤 : she's wearing a purple ribbon 🥺
👤 : omg she brought a jacket with her this time after learning from miami 😂😂😂 that's so funny of her
👤 : oh that bag is STUNNING i'm obsessed with it ✨✨
clip #4 – lando finding yn in the paddock after his dnf 🥺🥺
the clip was taken from a balcony of the paddock club – the person recording immediately zooming in on lando as he walks with his team through the paddock. some fans running up to him.
the camera jolts a little bit as it catches lando looking around as he's still walking – clearly looking for someone. as he gets closer to the mclaren hospitality that's when he seems to pick up his pace a little bit. and that's when you finally come into frame, speedwalking towards lando.
once you both are in arms reach of each other, lando is quick to wrap his arms around you. kissing the side of your head before you're pulling back slightly to look at him. your hand coming up to run through his sweat-drenched hair before you're hugging and kissing his cheek again.
lando's arm wraps around your waist as he guides you back towards hospitality and the clip cuts once you both go inside.
💬 comments :
👤 : guys i'm soft for them you don't understand 🤧
👤 : i just realized lando never fails to find yn after a race 🥺
👤 : at this point he just needs to propose to her
👤 : FUCK MCLAREN 🖕🖕🖕
👤 : if they ever break up i will fully lose all faith in love– and i'm so deadass guys 😭😭😭 IT IS THAT SERIOUS
landoyn4updates yn's instagram update after the race today includes pictures of lando after his dnf
📸 credits to cherryn [link one]
View all 29,390 comments
user YN IS ON THE PEOPLE'S PRINCESS AGENDA WITH USSSS
user can we all just agree that this race didn't happen??
user literally what in the twilight zone was this race 😭 that was the longest yet shortest 2 hours of my fucking life
user kind of crazy she's laughing about his dnf 💀
user she's not laughing about his dnf though??? she's clearly just trying to lighten the mood by sharing that video and pic
user is the laughing in the room with us?
user oh 😳 so she's on stan twitter like the rest of us huh
user bestie i fear she's ALWAYS been on stan twitter with us
user she could be any of us when you think about it 😳
cherryn just updated their story !
replies :
user NOOOOOOO YOURE IN INDIANA NOW???
user how did you and lando teleport so fast???
user oh no 😭😭😭😭 girl we're so sorry
user you're going to see your favorite person now 🤣🤣🤣
user NOT THE "I'VE BEEN TRICKED" CAPTION 😭 GIRL STAND UP – THERE'S NO WAY THE DICK IS THAT GOOD
📅 may 25, 2026
clip #5 – lando and yn at the indy 500 afterparty last night 😳😳
the camera is immediately panning over to where you and lando are standing – lando talking to daniel and conor while you are leaning against him. your head on his shoulder, one arm draped lazily across his chest and resting on the opposite shoulder, while his own arm was resting possessively around your waist.
you seem to be uninterested in whatever it is that lando is talking about with the other two men. you're even closing your eyes for a moment as the hand on his shoulder traveled to rest on his neck. lando is caught looking at you with a smirk – saying something to you before kissing your forehead and then going back to his conversation. the clip immediately cutting there.
💬 comments :
👤 : i'm sorry did they fucking teleport there or something???
👤 : yn was attached to lando the whole time 😭 girl was literally a koala the way she was holding onto him
👤 : oh she did NOT want to be there but maybe she's just jetlagged and tired after canada
👤 : yn is either jetlagged/tired, drunk, or got the fuck of her life on the plane ride there – sorry but those are the only options 🥴🥴
👤 : IM SORRY?????? THE FOREHEAD KISS
landoyn4updates both lando and yn were spotted at the indy 500 afterparty in indianapolis last night!
View all 32,209 comments
user omg them attending the indy afterparty after that disastrous race is 100% such a landoyn thing 😭😭😭
user i love lando don't get me wrong, but doesn't he realize that yn is probably tired of always traveling – esp recently???
user no cause i've been thinking the exact same thing 🥲 poor girl has been non-stop since the season started
user feel so bad for yn...
user omg i seen the clip of her leaning against lando at this party and the poor girl looks SO tired – lando pls take her home to rest 😭
user if i had a nickel for every time yn got dragged to a different motorsport event by lando in the span of a week i would have two nickels – which isn't a lot but weird that its happened twice
user first formula e and now indy 500 🤣🤣🤣 our girl is getting her motorsport bingo in
user don't forget she went to a motogp last year with lando and quadrant as well!
user oh shit i totally forgot about that lol
user lowkey feel so bad for yn when lando immediately shuttles her off to somewhere else right after a race
user its giving selfish boyfriend honestly 😬😬
user this is literally what she signed up for when she started dating lando... stop trying to baby her 🙄🙄 she's a grown woman
f1atelier photos are just placeholders! yn doesn't have an actual faceclaim please imagine yourself or whoever you want in these pictures! thanks.
summary: oscar meets reader at an untimely moment of her life — reader has been diagnosed with a hearing disability. what starts as annoyance turns into something softer before either of the two can name what it is.
contains: reader has a hearing disability (due to tinnitus and hyperacusis, not deaf) and is in the process of getting hearing aids. reader is lando’s friend. crack. fluff. a little bit of angst. idiots in love. miscommunication duh. a hint of jealousy maybe. swearing.
a/n: lowkey inspired by the drama. it’s such a shame we don’t have enough fics with disabled & hard of hearing reader! hope y’all enjoy this ♡ this one starts a little slow but the good stuff is coming, trust
Getting invited to a race right as you found out there was indeed a reason for your constant hearing discomfort was probably not the best idea. But Lando had insisted — how could you turn down his invitation when you finally happened to be free during a race week?! Needless to say, the man wouldn’t take no for an answer.
And when he pleaded you, on your latest facetime call, to come to the race, you couldn’t muster the courage to update him on your latest findings. You’d always had tinnitus, but as the years passed, it became increasingly uncomfortable. The times you couldn’t endure prolonged outdoor exposure due to the persistent buzzing in your head, the inability to tolerate even slightly louder noises, and the growing burden it placed on you—all these had a cause and the cause was your ears.
You’d recently gotten diagnosed and had to wait many, many weeks for your hearing aids to finally arrive. In the meantime, all you could do to bear the outside noise was wear earplugs to muffle the sound and ease the sensitivity. Which is exactly what you did when you arrived at the paddock, thanks to Lando’s passes. The minute you stepped inside the hospitality suite, the reality of the event hit you.
There were people.
Like, a lot of them.
And so many sounds. The hum of engines, people’s hurried steps, heels, and the voices — god, the voices. With the earplugs, it all sounded like you were underwater which wasn’t really more comfortable but at least better for your ears.
Your pulse spiked as your eyes searched for your friend. You met a tall blonde’s eyes, his brows slightly furrowing at your sight but immediately averted your gaze, nervousness gnawing at you. Heat rose to your cheeks as you steadied your breathing, trying to look casual.
The minute Lando spotted you, he jumped to his feet, mouthed something to his colleagues, and practically ran towards you.
“You came!”
You turned to the source of the faint sound—
Lando’s curls bounced with each of his strides, grinning ear to ear like a manchild. You sighed in relief, and walked into his open arms.
So dramatic, you chuckled to yourself. As always.
But as you breathed in his cologne and felt his laugh rumble through his chest, you couldn’t deny you’d missed him too. It’d been months since you last saw him.
When you broke apart, you noticed the earlier blonde man’s eyebrows shoot up. You averted your eyes again. He looked familiar.
“It’s been forever, oh my god, I had to practically drag you here myself!” Lando said as his hands rested on your shoulders.
“Ugh, drop the theatrics, Norris” you rolled your eyes not unkindly. “You know we’re both very busy”.
“Liar. I’m a professional racing driver and yet you’re always busier than me!” he complained, brows furrowing.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” you sighed, feeling much too aware of the nearby people’s eyes on the two of you.
Just who were you, exactly? No one had ever seen Lando light up this way before around someone else.
You couldn’t talk too long though, as he had to go get ready for the race. He made you promise him you’d stay after it was over to catch up and meet some of his friends, and he’d insisted he wouldn’t forgive you if you left early. You promised him, chest tightening at his eagerness.
You’d really missed that damn boy.
You bit down your smile as you brought your phone out and settled in some corner to watch the race. Far from prying eyes, you hoped. And even further away from the constant noises.
You scrolled on social media, only to see a picture of you hugging Lando already going viral. You gasped, as you scrolled further down the comments and reactions, heartbeat turning sickenly quick.
You didn’t notice a figure approaching then hovering near you. Didn’t notice the blonde man staring at you in the hope you’d meet his eyes.
He studied your figure, hunched over your phone, something like panic stretched on your face.
“That’s the worst PR mistake you can make” he commented, trying to joke about you reading the comments on socials.
You didn’t hear him. You were so caught up by it, and with your earplugs, the surrounding world had lowered down to a faint and distant hum.
He waited. A beat. Then awkwardly cleared his throat.
No reaction.
He scoffed to himself. He’d never been dismissed, no, disrespected like this before. You had met eyes earlier. Twice. How could you just ignore him like that?
He didn’t know whether he should double down or simply pretend it didn’t happen.
Another beat.
He opted for the latter.
He swallowed his pride and walked away, jaw clenching.
The race came and went in a blur. Lando won P2, his teammate — that’s who the blonde man was! Oscar Piastri! — P3.
McLaren was on fire.
Voices erupted in cheers, and the two drivers strode in, victorious smiles etched on their faces.
Lando immediately walked to you, hugging you almost too tightly.
“You’re my lucky charm!” he cheered.
You matched his grin and joy, congratulating him.
“You’re coming with us, we’re celebrating tonight”, he added, not open for discussion.
You had to give him that, right? At the very least, for all the times you turned down his invitations before.
You nodded. He kissed your cheek in his excitement, indifferent to the dozens of cameras pointing at your interaction.
Oscar saw it all unfold. The way you’d hugged, the way you didn’t even glance his way, or congratulate him.
But you were so caught up by the environment, so lost in the sea of noises and cheers and voices and cameras and cars— that you couldn’t take notice.
— ★
You arrived at the yacht party (the yacht was literally six times the size of your apartment) dressed in a white blouse and matching white shorts, the perfect picture of elegance.
Lando introduced you to his friends, some familiar faces and some new ones too. You met Charles, Alexandra, a few engineers whose names had escaped you.
As you walked further down the yacht, you noticed Oscar, a glass in hand, wearing a white blouse and black pants. Your heart stammered at the sight, and you were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t even register that Lando was guiding you to go meet him.
“Osc, I want you to meet a very dear friend of mine”, Lando started.
Oscar’s eyes went from curious to… annoyed? His gaze was cold, almost robotic.
A chill went down your spine. You tried to smile.
“Hi, nice to meet you” you introduced yourself and presented your hand.
He looked… unimpressed. Granted you’d never met the boy, he didn’t owe you anything but still… Some politeness could go a long way, you thought.
He let your hand hang in the air. For a second, you thought he was going to ignore you. But eventually he moved his own hand and shook yours, very briefly.
“Hi” he simply said. So low you almost didn’t hear it with your earplugs.
“Mate, what’s up? We just fucking won!” chuckled Lando, aiming for uplifting but landing somewhere baffled.
Oscar smiled politely, though it didn’t reach his ears. The boy didn’t like you, that was pretty clear.
As the evening unfolded, you talked more openly with Lando and his friends. You realized they were actually pretty nice, and altogether funny. You even cracked jokes with them, and although Oscar was still pissed about your earlier interaction — or lack thereof, actually — he couldn’t hide his own smirk from time to time.
The darker the sky turned, the more his eyes lingered. He’d wanted to ignore you entirely tonight, but you were just impossible to not see.
You weren’t loud, weren’t demanding. But you were there. You listened. You didn’t talk much but when you did, it was always relevant. Or too funny to ignore. So he observed you, like a genius trying to crack a complex code.
You met his eyes. You gave him a small smile.
His pulse quickened in response. He cleared his throat, bringing his glass to his lips and looking away.
Disappointment settled over you.
You excused yourself from the table and retreated further away from the crowd. It was already more quiet, further down the yacht.
You watched and breathed in the sea breeze. Even with earplugs, you could feel a headache starting from the noise. You’d have to leave soon.
Oscar’s eyes hadn’t left your figure since you’d stood up.
He didn’t know why, he couldn’t resist staring at you, each time your eyes caught his sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him.
A few minutes went by, when you saw something out of the corner of your eye.
You turned, jumping in surprise.
“Jeez, you scared me!” you said.
It was Oscar. He looked angry. Again.
“What, you didn’t hear me talking to you right now, just like you didn’t hear me earlier in the hospitality?” his voice was quiet, almost too quiet. You had to lean in to make out the words, shock stretching over your delicate features.
What the hell was he being so rude about?!
“Wait, no, I didn’t hear you. Neither now nor earlier, what are you talking about?”
“I was literally a few feet away from you, though…” he said slowly, his anger making way for doubt. “You were scrolling on socials”.
Had he misread the situation…? But he was standing close enough for you to hear though!
You were about to snap back before you realized.
Shit.
Fuck.
Is this what your life's gonna be like from now on?
“Wait, uh…” you tucked your hair behind both ears to reveal the earplugs. “I, uh… I wear earplugs. I have a hearing disability but I don’t have my hearing aids yet so…” you looked away, embarrassed.
You felt so silly. You fidgeted with the glass in your hand. Is this how it's going to be everyday, now?
You hadn’t even had enough time to adjust to a diagnosis that would probably change your very near future, so you hadn't even brought it up. Hell, even Lando didn’t know yet!
Oscar wanted to jump into the sea and never come back. His stomach dropped. He’d never felt more stupid.
“Fuck, I- I’m so, so, sorry, I-…” he sighed, frustrated, as he stepped closer for you to hear more properly.
The movement sent heat rising to your neck, as you stood up straighter.
“I apologize, really-“
“No, no, it’s me, I haven’t told anyone yet, I’ve just been diagnosed and it’s a little-“
He closed his eyes.
Your diagnosis was still recent.
God, he hated himself.
“Please, don’t. It’s me. I was an asshole.”
Silence settled over the two of you for a few seconds as he studied your face. The corner of his lips twitched. Yours did too before you could stop yourself.
You both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. His eyes lingered longer than necessary on the corner of your lips, the crinkles around your eyes. His mind short circuited at the sight.
When your laugh died down, you felt suddenly very aware of his eyes on you, the sea breeze gently playing with your hair, your white shirt under the purple and orange lights of the yacht. You shifted your weight on your feet and braced yourself for your next words.
“Do you wanna… start over?”
He blinked, mouth slightly open.
“Y-yeah, please” relief washed over him as he realized that perhaps, all chances of getting to know you weren’t gone.
you cannot stand lando norris but he just so happens to be the only one there for you when your relationship and career blow up in your face.
—wc ✩ contains: 4,481 ~ annoyance to lovers, bit of angst, fluff, fake dating, yn use (sorry), suggestive ish jokes, fc kianna naomi + pinterest gals, i think that’s it
—pairing: lando norris x driver!reader // lando norris x black!reader
masterlist
🦢: first lando fic kinda nervy 🙏🏽 (so about that dnf…)
✩ ✩ ✩
—— see replies…
user81 right before a race is diabolical
user004 he needs to get booed at the next knicks game he goes to
user18 i thought they’d get married omgg
user334 how do you cheat on HER of ALL PEOPLE
user092 everyone skipping over the fact it was his costar that went to COACHELLA WITH THEM
userlol RIGHT! got dog piled for saying it was weird now look at where we are
——
P2 was still a great result but it wasn’t where you nor the car needed to be and the damn thing felt like lugging a load of bricks across the finish line.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, there was no end to the wishes that you should’ve done this or that corner better. You should’ve had something changed out. Now you had the frustration of the team pit you so late into the race, letting a particular McLaren ahead.
It was the only thing you could think about on your drive home. That was until a knock came to your door and your breath hitched and heart skipped a beat. You crept around the corner and down the short hallway, clad in just a towel and your champagne bottle from the podium celebration that afternoon.
Maybe it could’ve been helpful if you really were about to get robbed halfway through your skincare routine, but the world may never know. Who you really came face to face with was much more of a surprise than a criminal mastermind in stripes would’ve been.
“Alex? What are you—“
A second face, Lily’s face that is, peered into your apartment doorway as Alex nudged her shoulder. A small grin appeared on her lips while a sigh escaped Alex’s. “Babe, she wasn’t supposed to see you till I said ‘I brought reinforcements’.”
“Well, who else would she have expected?” Lily replied with a small scoff that Alex seemed to roll his eyes at. They bickered for a moment over their brilliant timing, paused, and turned to see only pinched eyebrows.
“What could you two possibly be doing here?” You whisper yelled, keen on not disturbing the other apartments, including the little old lady down the hall that once called the landlord to complain about your sneezes being too loud.
“We’re here because someone is avoiding a certain celebration,” Alex quickly replied, waving his finger around while Lily crossed her arms.
You looked down and yep, still in a towel. “Because, I’ve had a long weekend and I'm going to bed.” You huffed and brought crossed arms up to your chest in order to keep it from slipping. “Besides, the celebration is for Norris, not the girl who got P2.”
The two shared a look then looked back at you.
“Usually I’m all for staying in but you have to come out, he invited almost every driver out tonight.” Lily leaned into the doorframe.
Your eyebrows finally unknit themselves, falling with your shoulders, “Yeah guys, I don’t think he of all people would want me there-“
Alex cut you off. “Wrong. Everyone’s invited. We’re going, which means you’re going.”
Not another word was uttered after Lily stepped into your unit’s doorway and grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. She ushered you down the hallway of your ridiculously dim apartment and around the corner to your bedroom. Once the two of you made way to the door, she nudged you into the room just as her boyfriend caught up behind.
You pivoted and sighed. “I appreciate the effort but the last thing I need is a night out.”
“Actually, the last thing you need is to wallow in all this pity.” The man perked up behind Lily, “You-know-who is certainly not doing the same.”
The two told you they’d be downstairs and in the car waiting for you. In all honesty, you hated rotting away in the house and unfortunately Lily was right. Your ex had in fact been prancing around New York with a new girl and not even necessarily new. Week after week spent avoiding your friends, phone calls, and any question that didn’t have to do with the car pretty much.
When you finally heard a soft click, your shoulders dropped for a second time that hour. After letting your towel drop, you inched towards your closet and pulled out a few dresses. Some quite old, some sort of new.
Just as you had slipped on the one dress that already had made the night feel a little less dreadful, you remembered the puddles leading up to the front door from the bathroom. Those were the same ones you could hear Alex slipping on and a thud when his knee hit the ground and Lily’s muffled chuckle that followed yours.
yourusername added to their story
The dark club was packed and overflowed with your fellow drivers, coworkers, and probably more than half of Monaco.
There was an abundance of silver, orange, and black streamers hung all around the room from the ceiling beams to the bar top. The lights were a mix of colors, fading quickly from one to the next.
If there was any doubt about the music level, there shouldn’t be. It was some kind of edm or pop, you couldn’t really tell since the bass was louder than any engine, really. It was the music taste of a man probably too wasted to tell his right foot from his left and who was currently at the dj booth overseeing the worst mix to ever grace your ears.
Conveniently, you had seen a glimpse of your ex somewhere across the room.
You assumed after he texted a couple weeks ago needing to come and grab his shit from your apartment, that you’d never have to see his face in Monaco again, at least apart from some movie theater. Regardless of his incessant need to show up at the worst time, you had strict orders from your friends to have fun.
…and you would have, you really would but just when you found a comfortable wall to lean on after a drink or two at the bar, a certain curly haired McLaren driver found his way over to you.
You rolled your eyes almost to the point of them getting stuck, knowing exactly why he was over here. He was nursing his own drink, a beer that you watched him crack open a few minutes prior. “What do you want?”
“Just checking in on my favorite Ferrari driver,” He ribbed, stepping up to you.
“Your favorite? I didn’t think Seb attended these things.” You quipped, playing with a couple of your braids. He swirled the bottle and scoffed.
Lando’s lips formed a small pout, “Tell me, what would make this party better?”
“Probably seeing you almost break your nose again,” you replied, shifting to stand up straighter.
He crossed his arms, his biceps squeezing against the hemming of his fitted black tee, “You’re out of luck, gorgeous.”
You let out a small chuckle while letting your eyes scan over the bar for a split second when suddenly, your body stiffened. He had been in the room the whole night but now, he was looking in your exact direction.
“Well then, what really has you so sour? Is it not clinching your precious Monaco win or-“ almost as if Lando felt eyes searing into the back of head, he strained his neck only slightly to see the other man, “Something else?”
When his gleaming green eyes slid back to you, your breath hitched. The one thing you never thought you’d do in the presence of the guy you’ve been terrorizing for years on track. Lando smirked and leaned in. He was just close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your ear, and really, it would’ve been impossible not to feel the bass of his voice in your chest.
“Kiss me.”
“Kiss you?”
“Do you see another Lando walking around? Yes, me.”
“Norris, you are crazy.”
“And you have someone to piss off. Let me help,” he sounded sincere, you thought. Like the idea of pissing off some guy he’s met a total of twice, genuinely brought him joy.
“What’s the catch? There has to be a reason for this super elaborate plan you thought of in less than five seconds,” you challenged, thinking maybe just maybe, he wasn’t serious.
He stepped closer into your space, enough that you could feel the heat emitting from his body mere hours after the race had ended. “There’s no catch, I’m just helping out a friend.”
“A friend? Looks like liquid courage is hard hitter tonight,” you retort.
“I don’t bite, I swear,” Lando tilted his head just slightly while very much biting back on your skepticism.
You stepped into his space, wrapping your wrists around his neck and finally pressing your hips to his. Your lips met his first, more like crashed into them really. He gripped your waist with his free hand, pulling you flush against him and causing heat to spread from the center of your chest all the way to your cheeks.
His lips were soft, and he tasted like his fresh beer but also like maraschino cherries. Easily, you felt him tilt his head to get a better angle then practically latch onto your lip. It was slow, and sweeter than you expected from Lando. All you could think about was accidentally letting your tongue slip through and devouring him whole, as if he was anyone else.
Before that thought had a leg to stand on, he pulled away, chest heaving slightly. Lando’s eyes fluttered open, grinning.
“You’re so greedy,” His hand, still attached to your waist, tightened.
—see replies…
user43 am i the only one fucking shocked??
user334 right! they literally shaded each other after quali this weekend
userlol that’s not lando
user004 it is!! my friend was bartending and saw him go up to her
user26 so blurry but still hot
user444 you know…i’ve always thought they’d look good together
user18 YOURE JOKINGGGG
user33 this random duo??
—
–––
liked by alexalbon, lando, ferrari, and 953k others
yourusername j’aime mes amis
username54 you look so good
username474 so we’re ignoring it ok queen
username55 not the post i was expecting to see rn
username91 the humble elephant haunting this happy ass post
username444 HES IN THE LIKESSS
username581 that means nothing
username444 girl bye
username44 podium glowww!
username211 glad you had fun babes!
alexandramalenaleclerc 💗💗💗
username89 why does this trio look the most fun to be apart of
alexalbon delete this
alexalbon why do i look like that
yourusername you’ve always looked like that
lilymhe a beauty!
yourusername my girl 🙏🏽
ferrari ❤️
liked by lando, username44, ferrari, and 1m others
f1 Number 44 aka YN YLN arrives to the paddock for media day! #BarcelonaGP
username24 poor girl is probably exhausted
username44 imagine breaking up with someone and still having to safely drive a car going 200mph
username81 i don’t know how she does it
username77 that’s #my winner
username454 lmao why is lando in the likes
username12 probably bc he’s a driver??
username454 he never likes these posts tho
username444 imagine she’s texting lando
username47 girl im bored let’s go touch grass!
username444 girl go on twitter!
username16 a win is what she needs
username82 cannot wait to see her smile again!! she deserves it
username7 finally we can focus on the racing
Early morning Barcelona air is chilly, the kind where you needed a hoodie even for the quick walk from the paddock entrance to the Ferrari motorhome. Right as you stepped inside, you were greeted by the social media admin and a few of the engineers having breakfast. Thankfully, you weren’t really all that much of a mess, yet not nearly as dressed up as you normally were.
On the far side of the hospitality’s breakfast lounge, you grabbed a sandwich and you plopped down on a couch. While hunched over your lap with the sandwich in one hand and your phone in the other, you scrolled through all of Lando’s missed calls and texts from the last couple days.
Turns out being home for a few days post race did not mean rest. Instead, your team had booked you out months prior for an endless amount of hours for sponsor events and photo shoots.
You felt a hand come to your shoulder, squeezing it. You knew exactly who it was but your head still snapped around to find your teammate, Charles, rounding the small couch.
“Just seeing if you’re okay,” he removed his hand as he sat himself next to you but he still seemed tense, “You seem quite tired nowadays.”
“I’m fine, Charles, I swear.” You replied, hoping he’d believe your shallow attempt at reassurance.
“You have had me worried,” he leaned back, your head tilted as he did so.
“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I can handle Leo’s puppy dog eyes, but not yours.” you quipped, focusing back on your sandwich and steam from the cheese practically filling the air.
Charles being Charles, he did not let up. “You barely answer the whatsapp group for weeks after the news, you barely talk to me after Monaco…now I have to find out from online that you kiss Lando?”
“Hey, hey! Not so loud!” you slap his thigh and earn a small ow from the other driver.
“It’s new, and we’re just taking it, uh, slow.” You huff out. “Yeah, slow.”
“You are a real mystery,” Charles hums while waving his finger at you. “But one with funny choices.”
After a few more minutes of talking with Charles, he checks his watch and realises he has to be in the conference room soon. He goes to stand up and mentions his portion that day would include Lando and winks, causing you to flick his temple. You spent the rest of breakfast dreading all the ways your teammate will find to tease his way through the weekend.
twitter on race day
user18 woke up to 200 notifs why is the tl freaking out hello
user43 my gf fr dating my mortal enemy now i got 4’s in my mentions #freeme
user081 LANDOYN IS REAL????
user43 WHAT THE HELL
user56 someone check on the 444 antis
user234 what’s their problem genuinely
user55 stop holding hands and get in the damn car landonorris
userlol and then he pulled her in for a temple kiss before walking away w mclaren admin 😭😭
user004 her smile 🥹
user408 heyyyy oomf you good? user444
user444 don’t even joke lad 😃
user4481 who’s ready for yn’s generational run today p12 to p1 here we come
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 729k others
lando time for a break then onto austria 😁
—
twitter
user43 random ass lando post on a monday night w no magui #watdatmean
user081 MULLET LANDO IS BACK EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU YN
user18 was that. a soft launch.
user004 we gettin feddd
user334 isn’t that the dress yn was seen in at that one cafe on wednesday??
user144 wait IT IS
user43 does lando know the psychological torture he’s putting us thru rn orrrr?
userlol YN POSTED TOO WAIT
liked by lando, alexalbon, ferrari, and 900k others
yourusername table for two?
—
twitter
user335 that’s lando’s watch no doubt
userlol it’s IDENTICAL
user43 alex commenting asking who’s on slide 2 and yn replying “don’t worry about it bbg”😭😭
user445 mind youuu, he knows exactly who it is
user19 giving us crumbs but not the whole cake is mean as hell
user332 landoyn posting on the same day 2 hours apart thinking they’re slick 🤨🤨
see replies…
user43 AW THEYRE W ALEX AND LILY
user two couples that match each others freaks 🙂↕️🙂↕️
user12 lowkey wish they had privacy,,
user004 right especially she went through w yk whooo
user444 44234 podium next race i’ve seen the script y’all
user87 can’t believe how happy shes been
user426 yn being all over lando’s stories lately, oh he’s obsessed
user89 as he should be 🤏🏽
user081 omg my cousin met yn and lando at an art exhibit WHY AM I EMPLOYED
userlol why is that man all over my wife 🤨 yn come home the kids miss youuu
userpink they’re so touchy YALL IN PUBLIC
user91 did anyone see the pics on lily’s account of her golfing with yn and lando pouting off to the side??
user10 YES that man is miserable without her
liked by lando, lilymhe, ciscanorris, and 912k others
yourusername sightseeing with my favs
tagged alexalbon, lando, lilymhe
lando where’s my photo creds
yourusername up your ass
lando 😉
user455 get freaky lando off my tl
user29 yn is so beautiful i need her so bad
alexandramalenaleclerc the most gorgeous
yourusername all you
lando suddenly i can’t find that hoodie…
yourusername and you probably never will…
user71 still not over them
user444 THEYRE SO CUTE
charlesleclerc glad your break is going well!
user990 i wonder if lando has met her cat jasmine
user81 i saw her deleted story on twitter of him with her!!
—
lando and yourusername added to their stories
story replies:
yourusername not just any dog!
lando oh right, sorry to his majesty leo leclerc 🙄
yourusername exactly
yourusername never disrespect my nephew again
lando why is a dog your nephew
lando why are you texting me from the living room of the suite
yourusername hate to break it to you but i also have a parrot niece
yourusername also the couch out here has a tv in front of it…
lando come backkkk
yourusername stay put pls stop whining
lando yes maam
lando i was just testing out my new camera
lando on the most beautiful subject 😻
yourusername whore
yourusername am i gonna end up on your jpeg account 🧍🏽♀️
lando yes
yourusername i saw those photos!
yourusername nooo my hair is so frizzy in them after taking off my balaclava 😭
lando yes and it looks perfect 😁😁
yourusername thank you :)
Unfortunately the rumors and whispers had not died down as you hoped. They did the opposite; they increased. Of course at times, it was going great. Lando had met your hometown best friends when they visited Monaco, and he got on quite well with your mom over facetime.
But, it was worrying. The relationship was starting to become something incredibly difficult to digest; that you were getting attached.
Lando was an annoyingly perfect gentleman. From memorizing your insane order at the cafe down the road, offering to take your bag if you were tired of lugging it around, to always bringing you food. The second you answered the phone complaining about the lack of proper snacks at sponsor shoots, he was there with shining green eyes and a smile.
You bickered still, constantly at that, but after getting past the awkward silences on rides back to hotels and such, it felt almost normal. Too normal one may say.
And the dates, they had become frequent. All at the request of Lando.
The man loved going out to party most of all but he also was insistent when it came to showing you the best spots wherever you two were for the week. That’s the part that felt the least forced, the fact that your schedules lined up so perfectly. Being in the same time zone almost confused you when he’d send a morning text and it was also 8am for him as well. He tried to excuse every other date as ‘an opportunity to get the fans focused on them instead of either of your exes’ but you saw right through the Brit.
One night, you both were curled up on the couch, opposite of your tv playing some old racing documentary he claimed was ‘the coolest thing ever’. You were laying on him, without an inch to move at that and could hear every single one of his heartbeats. They sped up ever so slightly anytime you shifted but you didn’t mention it, just kept watching the tv.
He had one arm behind his head and the other around your neck, tracing small shapes into the nape of it with his thumb. After a while, you lifted your head, resting your chin on Lando’s chest.
“Hey Lan?” you mumbled, staring right up at the curly haired man. He was still watching the documentary
“Hm?”
“Have you ever thought about leaving McLaren?”
That’s when his heart sped up again and he quickly averted all his attention to you. He hesitated, pinching his eyebrows while his tracing halted, “What?”
“It’s just a question, actually never mind," you replied, tucking your head back down.
But he pushed, “Nothing with you is ever just anything, c'mon, what are you really asking me for?”
And really, it terrified you. It wasn’t strange for your friends to want clarification on certain things like what you thought about the regulations next year or your opinions on a track, but those were lighter conversations compared to the one brewing between the two of you.
After a moment, you sighed.
“I got an offer to join Mercedes next year,” you mumbled into his chest.
“Are you serious? That’s amazing, baby.” Lando beamed, squeezing your shoulder. “You gonna go for it?”
“I could. I’ve spent ages at Ferrari, it’s the dream team to debut in, and I did just that. But, I've spent too long proving myself worthy just to abandon all the work put into my career.” your voice wavered, your own heart pounding at the thought of that one contract negotiations meeting you went to months ago.
“Hey, none of that. Moving up doesn’t diminish your hard work.” Lando reassured, “I think you’d ace it, but then again I’m biased.”
You craned your neck to look up at him, “You think so? Like, you’re sure?”
Lando hummed. Your heart fluttered just behind your ribs, urging you to shift and place a slow, lazy kiss to Lando’s lips. You pulled yourself up, eventually getting situated right on his lap. He sat up as well, sliding his hands underneath the hoodie you stole. The chill of them sent one down your spine. As he pressed the pads of his thumbs into you, anchoring you to him, you gripped his shoulders doing the same.
He placed a soft, lingering kiss to your jawline then curve of your neck, practically breathing in all that he could. Your breath hitched while all the stress from the last few months practically melted off your bones.
“You’re incredibly talented and smart, any team would be lucky to have you,” Lando murmured against your ear.
“I can’t make the decision for you but I know you’ll make the right one.” he added. “You always do.”
Just a few weeks later, you were at his place. He streamed with Max while you napped in his room. After insisting that you’d get up in a bit and join him, which had Lando practically jumping off the walls, he left you to rest.
The buzz from Lando’s phone loudly interrupted a somewhat quiet portion of the stream where he was sitting and responding to comments.
He flipped his phone over, the blue light illuminating his face immediately. A small smile spread across his lips while he gripped one of the arms of his chair and started muttering, “Hold on everyone, I’ve got someone to check on.”
It slipped out as quickly as Lando went on mute, ignoring the chat that had been flooded all of a sudden. He took his headphones off and set the screen to that of his waiting room one.
After standing up too fast from his gaming chair, he steadied himself and headed across the hallway. He slowly pushed the door to his bedroom open. Light from the hallway spilled in as the door creaked, causing you to just barely shift under the covers. He crossed the room in a few strides. When he sat on the edge of the bed, he instinctively brought his hand to your shoulder.
“Hey, you good?” Lando whispered, leaning forward. “I think you texted me in your sleep again.”
You pulled the comforter down enough not to muffle your words, “Sorry, I didn’t wanna interrupt your stream.”
“No, no, it’s okay. All that matters is if you’re okay,” he replied, slipping his hand over your back. “Are you?”
“Lando, you’re squishing my toes,” you whined, your face halfway into the pillow.
“Well, I wouldn’t be if you weren’t hidden entirely under the blanket,” he replied then moved to the side, keeping his hand exactly where it was.
You shifted again, sitting up this time. Lando’s hand rubbed your back as the comforter fell off your shoulders.
You rubbed at your eyes, feeling groggy as ever, and nauseous too. “I think so. But I don’t feel all that great, honestly.”
Lando’s hand came to your forehead. He let out a small curse, “Christ, you’re burning up.”
His hand fell to your lap and squeezed your thigh just slightly. You let your head fall into his shoulder as you groaned, so he turned and placed a quick kiss to your temple. You couldn’t help but start mulling over this happening the day before the two of you were supposed to fly out for for the next race. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you had come down with something flu like, and very quickly at that.
“How am I gonna manage a fever at 30 thousand feet in the air?” you whined into his neck.
“You won’t. You cannot walk into the paddock like this, let alone race.” His voice was firm, something that sent you dizzy.
You looked up at him and sighed, “But, I wanna at least watch.”
“And you will, but you’re gonna have to do it from the comfort of this bed,” he replied, and surprisingly convincingly at that.
“God, you’re so pushy,” you softly conceded.
“I’m worried for your well being, there’s a difference, love.” he replied then pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. He stood up and leaned over to grab your glass so he could go refill it.
“Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick too,” you complained, already feeling the emptiness of the bed.
“Worth it."
— two weeks later…
—see replies…
user82 omg poor yn nooo
user444 TF
user444 DELETE THIS
user84 right before the summer break is crazy as hell
userlol what the hell is his problem
user92 this is why his ass dnfed
userpink how has this happened TWICE to yn
user62 NO FR! free my girl from these men
user923 is that him kissing her?? literally was all up on yn a day prior
user4455 alexa play dont smile by sabrina carpenter
user003 is this a good time to bring back lando norizz
user004 yes
usertyre3 right after her win…
The voicemails had counted to a million, well at least as many as it takes to fill a voicemail box, and the flowers sitting on the kitchen island were wilted beyond recognition. Every time you thought about reaching out, wanting to hear his voice soften for you again, it took everything not to.
That was the real issue, wasn’t it? Not being able to hesitate when it came to Lando. Not being able to cease every ache in your bones just wanting to be held by him again, even for a second.
You spent the summer break third wheeling Alex and Lily, but it felt weird now.
They hadn’t done anything wrong, they were doing what they always did. Alex tried to play therapist with his singular psychology course he took in school, and Lily made sure you were focusing on anything other than a boyfriend; real or fake.
One afternoon, Lily had taken you to a golf course. She had played it dozens of times, but you had only been there to sip on lemonade and cheer her on. She dragged you out of the golf cart, insisting she could finally teach you to nail your swing.
“I know what you’re doing,” you nodded. “I’m perfectly fine from riiiight here.”
You lifted her bag of clubs and stepped a few paces away from the tee.
“You need a distraction, plus, this is an easy one.” Lily added, leaning over and grabbing the edge of your sleeve. “C’mere!”
“Okay! That was a pinch!” you yelped, tugging yourself from your friend’s grip and leaning to the side even more now.
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “You know what? Maybe you are better off watching a few swings and setups. But do not touch your phone.”
Sucking your teeth, you pivoted on your heel, turning towards the golf kart. The closer you got to it, the clearer view you had to a couple guys over by another hole. One of them had curly hair and as far as you could tell, was wearing a familiar pair of black trousers and black blouse.
It felt dramatic. Clutching your phone to your chest, breath hitching, and hoping when the man turned, that it would be anyone else. But as soon as he did, you were proven wrong. He held his hand up to shade his forehead, and his jaw dropped as if he’d seen a ghost.
Nope, nope, nope!
You tossed your phone into the karts driver seat, then pivoted towards Lily and marched back up to her.
“On second thought, show me that swing. I could use all the distractions I can get.”
liked by lilymhe, lando, ferrari and 987k others
yourusername recharged, let’s go second halffff
user44 he FUMBLED
user781 i love alexlilyn so bad
user639 right, slide 2 screams lily’s idea
userlol you’re so fine
userlove glowing girlll
user33 not him being in the likes
user63 genuinely surprised she hasn’t blocked him by now
user2344 yn is just mature like that, can’t say the same for some ppl
alexandramalenaleclerc my favorite ❤️
user43 YN WIN INCOMINGGG
alexalbon you told me you deleted that pic on slide 4…
yourusername god forbid a girl tells a white lie
lilymhe send it to me rn
userlol 😭 😭
username2381 she’s back!!!!
charlesleclerc see you in maranello!
Just two days after getting home from the first race of the back half of the season, you heard a faint knock at the door. At first, it was so light you summed it up to the wind playing tricks or maybe someone had walked by.
Another knock, a stronger one, came down on your door. You jumped ever so slightly, turning your head, hearing the groan of frustration just outside.
One inspection of the peep hole later and you were sighing, but still opening the door.
Lando was panting, soaked in a hoodie, and gripping a plastic bag in one hand, his phone in the other. His curls were plastered to his forehead with a few loose ones sticking up. His eyebrows were pinched and his green eyes were immediately on you, shocked you even opened the door.
“You know your unit is, uh,“ You pointed over to the elevator, “Not on this floor, right?”
“I know,” he replied, “But I needed to see you— I needed to get this off my chest.”
“Not sure if this is a good time, Lando.” you told him, hoping it sounded as firm as you had hoped.
You started telling him you were super busy with data and that you had a long day on zoom calls but his voice cut through and yours faltered. “Can I come in?”
One minute later, he was standing in your living room chair, opposite of you and your arms crossed on the couch. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now but I’ve been thinking this over for too long. I want you to know the truth.”
“Me first,” you blurt out. “I deserve better.”
“You do-“
“I seriously don’t deserve to get pushed aside for someone you barely knew how to label beforehand,” you added. “And I hate that I let myself believe you could actually love me.”
“I do.”
The room stood still. A moment of silence passed. Then another, and another. A rapid heartbeat was the only sound echoing within your eardrums as your eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I love you, like more than you could ever know.” His words repeated, but more like echoed in your mind.
“You know the ruse is over, right? You don’t have to keep pretending,” you shook your head in retort.
“I’m not- I would never lie to you.” He replied, shifting forward in his seat.
“I regret keeping the meetup from you though,” his shoulders dropped as he sighed, “She wanted to see me and I went, but only to tell her I was serious about you.”
“Serious…about me?”
“Yeah,” Lando breathed, scratching the back of his neck.
“I was planning on getting on a plane with you as soon as summer break started, taking you somewhere beautiful, and finally asking you to be my girlfriend- well, my real one.” He added. “I know it’s cheesy but I also know every day spent with you, had me wishing it’d never end.”
“Jesus.” You sigh. Almost as if he can see the gears turning in your brain, working over every excuse to not believe him, he sprung up from the seat and rushed over to the plastic bag on the counter and pulled out an envelope.
“This— is what I was gonna give you once we arrived at the hotel,” he made his way back to where you now stood in front of the couch.
Everything he felt, everything he was thinking not just from starting the ‘relationship’ but from the moment he met you, was encased within the letter. His penmanship wasn’t the absolute best, something you always teased him for but it still had your breath hitching at the sight of it.
Lando decided to write how he loved when you’d chew at your lip any time deeply focused on data, how you narrowed your eyes before laying on the thickest layer of sarcasm towards him, and how you’d subconsciously lean your head on his shoulder no matter where you two were.
He pointed out your lack of patience with him that he weirdly found endearing, the one that quickly rubbed off on him the second he was in your orbit.
He stepped towards you as you looked up from the letter, praying you wouldn’t tear it up.
He finally broke the silence, “I didn’t kiss her.”
“Not even for a second?”
“It was a terrible angle of her wiping my chin that I pushed off from, but no.” He replied with a deep sigh.
You stepped closer, scanning his face and letting him pull you in by your waist. He let you lean in, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck and nestle your chin into it. He held you back, tighter than before, with no chance of letting go now or ever.
After a couple minutes, you pulled back slightly, almost pouting and reveling in just how flushed he was, “You really know how to stress a girl out.”
Lando held a hand to the side of your jaw and used his thumb to lift your chin up and leaned in again, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
He was barely touching your lips at first before taking you all in at once. When you stopped being so patient, your arms pulled him down harder, sliding your tongue against his.
He pulled back a fraction of a millimeter, taken aback by your sudden force. He trailed his lips down the opposite side of your jaw where his thumb had been tracing. When he reached the crook of your neck, he placed softer kisses, just to hear the way your breath hitched right before finally whispering his love for you over and over til you were tired of it. But you never really did.
liked by lando, mclaren, charlesleclerc, and 1.2m others
yourusername girl whatever (ily come over rn 🙏🏽)
tagged lando
user212 nonchalant gf final boss
olliebearman she is anything but nonchalant
yourusername you know what this is why you don’t have my seat yet
lando coming!
yourusername you will ;)
isackhadjar 🤮
userhearts 😭😭😭
user444 FINALLYYYY
userlol we got landoyn making up and ending their rivalry before gta 6 im crying
lilymhe bad time to say alex still has that one ss…
yourusername ...tell him to delete it rn
user23 screenshot of what 🤨
user81 hey lily we need the ss PLS
user94 not her stalking him in slide 3 😭😭
user311 the hard launch of hard launches
user672 yourusername on the quadrant yt WHEN
yourusername 🤐
maxfewtrell lando dont mess it up mate
lando never doing that EVER AGAINNN
charlesleclerc finally the crying in hospitality can end
yourusername stop lying on my name
user23 yourusername how does it feel to have a bf obsessed w your every move
yourusername like he’s a clingy ass cat tbh
lando you weren’t complaining last night
yourusername i will have the scratches to prove it forever
alexalbon i’ve got to block you both
Summary- For the past few years you've had a massive crush on Lando Norris, however when you become the new social media team member your crush intensify's when you can't stop bumping into the world champ...
Notes- based on drop dead by Olivia Rodrigo, I actually love this one! Kind of fan to lovers! Anyone else think lando is slowly being 2021-2022 lando again and I lowkey love it! Not proofread...
Words-5.8k
Your hands are shaking as you badge into the McLaren Technology Centre for the first time as an official employee. Not a fan, not a visitor—an actual member of the social media team. It feels surreal, like you're going to wake up any second and realize this is all just another one of those dreams where you work alongside your celebrity crush.
Except Lando Norris isn't just a celebrity crush. He's been the crush for years now. Ever since you first saw him racing, all cheeky grins and infectious energy, you've been a goner. Your friends used to tease you mercilessly about the Lando Norris poster on your wall, the way you'd stay up until ungodly hours to watch races in different time zones, how you could recite random facts about him like you were studying for an exam.
And now you work for his team.
You're going to absolutely humiliate yourself. You know it. It's inevitable.
The coffee cup in your hand is already trembling as you navigate the sleek, modern hallways, trying to remember the route to the social media department from your interview. Left at the trophy case, right at the—
"Oh, shit—"
You spot him before your brain can properly process what's happening. Lando Norris. In the flesh. Walking down the hallway toward you in McLaren team gear, hair slightly messy, scrolling through his phone with that casual confidence that makes your stomach flip.
Your foot catches on absolutely nothing—just air, apparently you can trip over air now—and you stumble forward. The coffee cup tilts dangerously in your grip. You overcorrect, arms windmilling, and somehow manage to slosh hot coffee onto your own hand.
"Ow, fuck—" You bite your lip, face already burning with embarrassment.
When you look up, he's stopped walking. He's staring right at you, and oh God, there's that smirk. That stupidly attractive smirk you've seen in a thousand photos and videos, except now it's directed at you, and you want to melt into the floor.
He definitely thinks you're an idiot. First day and you're already proving you're a walking disaster.
"You alright there?" His voice is warm, amused, with that slight rasp that makes your knees weak.
"Fine! Totally fine! Just—coffee—hot—I'm good!" You're babbling. You're absolutely babbling, and his smirk is widening.
"Careful," he says, and there's something in his eyes you can't quite read. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself on your first day."
He knows it's your first day? How does he—
But he's already walking past you, and you catch the faintest hint of his cologne, and your brain short-circuits completely. You stand there in the hallway, clutching your half-empty coffee cup, face flaming, absolutely certain that Lando Norris now thinks you're the clumsiest, most ridiculous person he's ever encountered.
Great. Just great.
What you don't see—because you're too busy staring at the floor and wishing it would swallow you whole—is the way he glances back over his shoulder, that smirk softening into something genuinely fond. Or the way he pulls out his phone and immediately texts Max: New girl on social media is adorable. Just watched her nearly take herself out with a coffee cup.
The universe, you decide by the end of your second week, has a sick sense of humor.
Because Lando Norris is everywhere.
You're walking to a meeting? He's rounding the corner at the exact moment you trip over the threshold. You're carrying a stack of content approval forms? He's there when you bump into a doorframe and send papers flying. You're reaching for your bag and knock over a water bottle? His hand shoots out to catch it before it can spill everywhere.
"Steady on," he says every time, that teasing lilt in his voice, his hand warm and strong on your elbow or shoulder or wrist—wherever he needs to grab to keep you from face-planting.
And every single time, you want to die.
Because he must be so annoyed. He's a Formula 1 driver, for God's sake. He has better things to do than constantly rescue the clumsy new social media coordinator from her own lack of coordination.
"I'm so sorry," you mumble for what feels like the hundredth time as he steadies you after you've tripped over your own feet near the simulator room. "I swear I'm not usually this much of a disaster."
"No?" He's grinning now, and it's unfair how attractive he is up close. You can see the flecks of green in his eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw. "Could've fooled me."
Your face burns. "I just—I don't know what's wrong with me lately."
You. You're what's wrong with me. You and your stupid perfect face and your stupid perfect laugh and the way you smell like expensive cologne and racing fuel and—
"Maybe you need a bodyguard," he suggests, and is he... is he standing closer than necessary? "Someone to follow you around and catch you."
"That seems excessive," you manage, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating.
"I don't know. Seems pretty necessary to me." His hand is still on your elbow, thumb brushing against the inside of your arm in a way that's making it very hard to think. "Can't have our social media team taking themselves out before the season even starts."
What you don't know—what you can't possibly know—is that Lando has started timing his walks through the MTC to coincide with your schedule. That he's memorized when you usually grab coffee, when you head to meetings, when you take your lunch break. That Max caught him checking his watch yesterday and asked, "Got somewhere to be?" and Lando had absolutely failed to come up with a convincing lie.
You don't know that every time he catches you, every time his hands steady you, he's fighting the urge to keep holding on longer than strictly necessary.
You don't know that he finds your clumsiness endearing rather than annoying, that your flustered apologies make him want to smile for hours afterward, that he's started looking forward to these little moments more than he probably should.
On Thursday, you're walking backward while talking to another team member—explaining some content strategy you're excited about, hands gesturing animatedly—and you don't see the equipment case behind you.
But Lando does.
His arm wraps around your waist from behind, pulling you against his chest and spinning you out of the way just before you would've crashed into it.
"Oh my God—" You're breathless, heart hammering, hyperaware of how strong his arm feels around you, how solid he is behind you. "Thank you, I didn't—I wasn't looking—"
"I noticed," he says, and his voice is right by your ear, low and amused. "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."
"I'm sorry," you whisper, and you can feel his chest moving with his breathing, and this is too much, this is—
"Don't be." His arm loosens but doesn't quite let go. "I don't mind catching you."
You turn your head slightly and immediately regret it because now you're close enough to kiss him, close enough to see the way his eyes drop to your mouth for just a fraction of a second, and—
"Lando! We need you in the debrief!"
He steps back at the sound of his engineer's voice, and you immediately miss his warmth. He shoots you one more grin—softer this time, almost private—before jogging off.
You stand there, hand pressed to your racing heart, absolutely certain you're going to combust.
You're in the content creation room, trying to set up a camera for some behind-the-scenes footage, when you hear voices in the hallway.
"—following her around like a lost puppy, mate."
You freeze. That's Max Fewtrell's voice, unmistakable with its teasing edge.
"I'm not following her around." Lando sounds defensive, which is... weird. "I just happen to be in the same places."
"Right. You just happen to be wherever the shy new social media girl is. You just happen to always be there when she trips over thin air. That's totally coincidental."
"She's clumsy! Someone needs to make sure she doesn't hurt herself!"
"Uh-huh. And that someone needs to be you specifically?"
There's a pause. You're holding your breath, camera forgotten, ear practically pressed to the door.
"...Shut up, Max."
"Oh my God, you fancy her!" Max sounds delighted. "You actually fancy the clumsy girl!"
"I don't—she's just—she's cute, alright? Is that a crime?"
Your heart stops. Completely stops. Lando Norris just called you cute. Lando Norris thinks you're—
"Mate, you're blushing. You're actually blushing right now."
"Fuck off."
"This is amazing. Wait until I tell—"
"You're not telling anyone anything!"
Their voices fade as they walk away, and you're left standing there, hands shaking, mind reeling.
He thinks you're cute.
But... that doesn't make sense. Because you've seen the way he smirks when you stumble, the way he teases you. That's not—that can't be—
Later that day, you're walking past the gaming area when you spot Max. He sees you at the same moment, and his face breaks into the most knowing, mischievous grin you've ever seen.
"Careful," he calls after you. "Wouldn't want you to trip. Although I'm sure someone would be happy to catch you."
He winks. Actually winks.
You flee, face flaming, absolutely mortified. They were definitely laughing about you. Max knows you're a disaster, and now he's making fun of you for it, and Lando probably told him about all the times he's had to save you from yourself, and—
You're so busy spiraling that you don't see the doorframe.
Your shoulder collides with it hard enough to make you yelp, and you stumble sideways—
"Fine," you squeak. "Just—doorframes are apparently my nemesis today."
He's looking at you with that soft expression again, the one you can't quite interpret. "You sure you're alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You seem... flustered."
Because I overheard you telling Max I'm cute and now I don't know what to do with that information and also you're touching me and I can't think straight when you're touching me.
"Just one of those days," you manage.
Behind Lando, you can see Max in the doorway, grinning like the Cheshire cat. He gives you a thumbs up.
You want to die.
"So," your manager says, sliding a folder across the desk. "We've been impressed with your work so far. Your content strategy has been excellent, and the drivers seem comfortable with you."
Comfortable is one word for it. Constantly saving you from injuring yourself is another.
"We'd like to move you into a more specialized role. Lando needs a dedicated PR coordinator, and we think you'd be perfect for it."
The room tilts slightly. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You'd be managing his schedule, coordinating his media appearances, handling his public relations. You'd be working directly with him on a daily basis."
Daily basis. Directly with Lando. Every single day.
"I—um—that's—"
"It's a significant step up, and a pay increase, of course. But we think you're ready for it."
You're not ready for it. You're absolutely not ready to spend every single day in close proximity to Lando Norris without making a complete fool of yourself. You can barely handle passing him in the hallway.
But you hear yourself saying, "Yes. Thank you. I'd love to."
Because you're an idiot.
Your first day as Lando's PR coordinator starts with you tripping over the curb in the car park.
You're carrying a tablet, your phone, a coffee, and a folder of briefing notes for the day's media appearances. You're mentally running through the schedule, trying to remember if his interview with Sky Sports is at 10 or 10:30, and you don't see the raised curb.
Your foot catches. You pitch forward. The tablet goes flying.
And then there are hands on your waist, strong and sure, pulling you back against a solid chest.
"Christ, you're going to give me a heart attack," Lando says, but he's laughing. "First day as my PR and you're already trying to take yourself out?"
You twist in his grip to face him, and he's still holding your waist, and he's so close, and—
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking, I—"
"This is going to be fun."
He bends down to pick up your tablet—miraculously uncracked—and hands it to you. His fingers brush yours, and you nearly drop it again.
"Maybe we should get you a helmet," he suggests. "Full protective gear. Knee pads, elbow pads, the works."
"I'm not usually this bad," you protest weakly.
"Sure you're not." But his eyes are sparkling with amusement, not judgment. "Come on, Bambi. We've got a busy day."
He keeps his hand on the small of your back as he guides you toward the building, and you're absolutely certain you're going to spontaneously combust before lunch.
The interview is going well. Lando is charming and funny, giving great sound bites, and you're standing just off-camera with the schedule, making sure everything runs on time.
"So, Lando," the interviewer says, "what's it like having a new PR coordinator? I heard you've got someone dedicated to keeping you in line now."
Lando's eyes flick to you, and there's that grin again. "Yeah, she's great. Very professional. Extremely organized."
"High praise."
"Well, she has to be organized. Someone needs to keep track of all the times she trips over things."
Your face flames. He did not just—
"She's also standing right there, going bright red, which is adorable."
The interviewer laughs. The camera operator is grinning. You want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
"Lando," you hiss, but he just winks at you.
The interview wraps up, and the moment the crew starts packing up, you corner him.
"You can't—you can't just say things like that in interviews!"
"Why not?" He's leaning against the wall, looking completely unrepentant. "It's true."
"It's—I'm supposed to be professional!"
"You are professional." He pushes off the wall, taking a step closer. "You're also cute when you're flustered, you know."
Your brain short-circuits. "I—what—you can't—"
"There it is." His grin widens. "That's the face I'm talking about."
"Lando—"
"You do this thing where you scrunch your nose up a bit when you're embarrassed. It's adorable."
You're going to pass out. You're actually going to pass out right here in the media room.
"I need to—" You gesture vaguely at nothing. "Schedule. Next thing. We have a—thing."
"A thing?"
"A thing!"
You flee, his laughter following you down the hallway.
It happens gradually, so gradually you almost don't notice.
One day you're a nervous mess who can barely string a sentence together around Lando, and the next—well, you're still a bit of a mess, but it's a comfortable mess.
It starts small. He makes a joke about his own performance in practice, and instead of just laughing nervously, you quip back: "Maybe if you spent less time on Twitch and more time in the sim..."
He looks delighted. "Oh, she's got opinions now!"
"I've always had opinions. I was just too terrified to voice them."
"Terrified? Of me?"
"You're Lando Norris!"
"And you're the girl who once walked into a glass door because you were looking at your phone. I think we're even."
It becomes easier after that. You start actually talking to him—not just about schedules and media obligations, but about everything. His gaming streams, your favorite shows, the ridiculous drama in the F1 social media sphere, whether pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't, you both agree, which he says is proof you're soulmates, and you try not to read too much into that).
The touches increase too. His hand on your back when he's guiding you through a crowded paddock. His fingers brushing yours when you hand him things. The way he sits just a little too close on the team bus, thigh pressed against yours, arm stretched along the back of your seat.
"You're in my space," you tell him once, but there's no heat in it.
"You're not moving away," he points out.
You're not. You don't want to.
At a factory visit, you're reviewing content on your tablet when he appears behind you, chin practically on your shoulder.
"That's a good shot," he murmurs, and his breath tickles your ear.
"Lando, personal space."
"Don't know what you're talking about." But he doesn't move, and neither do you.
Max catches you like this once—Lando draped over your shoulder, both of you laughing at something on your screen—and just shakes his head, grinning.
"You two are ridiculous," he announces.
"Jealous, Fewtrell?" Lando shoots back.
"Of what? Your inability to just ask her out like a normal person?"
You choke on air. Lando's hand tightens on your shoulder.
"Max—"
"I'm just saying! The pining is getting painful to watch."
"There's no pining," Lando insists, but his ears are red.
"Sure, mate. Sure."
After Max leaves, there's a moment of awkward silence.
"Sorry about him," Lando finally says. "He's—"
"It's fine." Your heart is racing. "He's just teasing."
"Right. Yeah. Teasing."
But his hand stays on your shoulder for a long moment before he pulls away, and you swear you can feel the warmth of it for hours afterward.
By month three, you've found a rhythm. You anticipate his needs before he voices them. You know when he needs a moment alone before media duties, when he's in the mood to joke around, when he's frustrated and needs someone to vent to.
And he knows you too. Knows when you're stressed and need reassurance. Knows when you're tired and need coffee. Knows when you're overwhelmed and need him to take over the conversation.
"We make a good team," he says one evening, both of you working late to prep for the next race weekend.
"We do," you agree, and you mean it.
He's looking at you with that soft expression again, the one that makes your stomach flip.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why were you so nervous around me at first?"
You freeze, fingers stilling on your keyboard. "I—what?"
"Those first few weeks. You could barely look at me. I thought maybe I'd done something to upset you."
"No! God, no. You didn't—" You take a breath. "I just... I'd been a fan for a long time. Before I got the job. And then suddenly I was working with you, and I didn't know how to act, and I kept making a fool of myself—"
"You never made a fool of yourself."
"Lando, I tripped over my own feet approximately seven hundred times."
"Okay, that's true." He's grinning. "But it was cute."
"It was mortifying."
"It was cute," he insists. "You were cute. You are cute."
Your face is burning again. "Lando—"
"I'm just saying." He's closer now, you're not sure when that happened. "I like you. The clumsy, nervous, adorable you. And I like this you too. The one who tells me off when I'm being an idiot and laughs at my jokes and—"
His phone buzzes. He glances at it and sighs.
"I have to take this. But—" He hesitates. "We should talk. Properly. Soon."
"Okay," you whisper.
He smiles—soft and genuine and just for you—before answering his phone and walking away.
You sit there, heart pounding, wondering what just almost happened.
The race weekend is a success. Lando finishes P3, his best result of the season so far, and the energy in the motorhome afterward is electric.
You're updating social media, posting photos and videos, riding the high of a good result. The rest of the team has filtered out to celebrate, but you're still working, making sure everything is perfect.
"You're still here."
You look up to find Lando in the doorway, race suit tied around his waist, fireproofs clinging to his frame. His hair is messy from the helmet, and he's still got that post-race glow.
"Just finishing up the posts," you say. "You should be out celebrating."
"Wanted to check on you first." He steps into the motorhome, letting the door close behind him. "Make sure my PR isn't working herself to death."
"I'm fine. Good race, by the way. P3 is—"
"Come here."
You blink. "What?"
"Come here," he repeats, and there's something in his voice that makes your pulse quicken.
You set down your phone and stand, and he crosses the small space between you in two strides.
"I've been wanting to do this for weeks," he murmurs, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek.
Oh God. Oh God, he's going to—
He leans in, eyes dropping to your mouth, and panic seizes you.
You duck.
Actually duck, like you're dodging a punch, and scramble sideways toward the mini fridge.
"I just—I need—water! Do you want water? I'm going to get water."
There's a long moment of silence. When you finally dare to look at him, he's standing there, hand still raised, looking completely baffled.
"I thought..." He drops his hand. "I thought you liked me?"
Your face is on fire. Your whole body is on fire. "I do!"
"Then why did you just dodge me like I was trying to hit you?"
"I didn't—I wasn't—" You're clutching a water bottle you don't remember grabbing. "I just—"
"Do you not want me to kiss you?"
"No! I mean yes! I mean—" You're going to die. You're actually going to die right here in this motorhome. "I do want—I just—"
He's watching you, and there's hurt in his eyes now, confusion, and you hate it.
"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm sorry, I just—I panicked."
"Right." He runs a hand through his hair. "Okay. I—I should go."
"Lando—"
But he's already leaving, and you're left standing there with a water bottle and a heart that feels like it's breaking.
You avoid him for a week.
Well, you try to avoid him. It's hard when you're literally his PR coordinator. But you keep things strictly professional, don't let conversations drift into personal territory, make excuses to leave whenever you're alone together.
He doesn't push. Doesn't bring up what happened in the motorhome. Just gives you space, even though you can see the questions in his eyes.
Max corners you on Thursday.
"What did you do?"
"What?"
"Lando's been moping around like a kicked puppy for a week. What happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"Bullshit. He tried to kiss you, didn't he?"
You choke. "How did you—"
"Because I know my best mate, and I know he's been working up the courage for months. So what happened? Did you turn him down?"
"No! I just—I panicked."
Max studies you for a long moment. "You like him."
"Of course I like him."
"No, you like him. Like, properly fancy him."
Your silence is answer enough.
"So what's the problem?"
"I don't—I can't—" You slump against the wall. "Max, I've had a crush on him for years. Since before I even worked here. And now he wants to kiss me, and I'm terrified I'm going to mess it up, or wake up and realize it's all a dream, or—"
"Or you could just let him kiss you and see what happens."
"It's not that simple."
"It literally is that simple."
"What if I'm not—what if he realizes I'm not—"
"Not what? Not perfect? Mate, he's watched you walk into a door. He's seen you trip over literally nothing. He knows you're a disaster, and he's completely gone for you anyway."
"He is?"
"Are you joking? He's been following you around like a lovesick puppy for months. It's actually painful to watch."
You bite your lip. "I really messed up, didn't I?"
"Probably. But lucky for you, he's also an idiot who's completely smitten. So maybe try talking to him?"
You find him that evening at his apartment. He looks surprised when he opens the door.
"Hi," you say quietly.
"Hi."
"Can we talk?"
He steps aside to let you in. His apartment is exactly what you'd expect—gaming setup in one corner, comfortable furniture, slightly messy but in a lived-in way.
You both end up on the couch, sitting at opposite ends, and the distance feels wrong.
"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "About last week. I didn't mean to—I wasn't trying to—"
"It's okay." But he won't quite meet your eyes. "If you don't want—if you're not interested, that's fine. I just wish you'd told me instead of—"
"I am interested."
He looks up. "What?"
"I'm interested. I like you. I've liked you for—God, for years. Since before I even worked here."
"Then why—"
"Because I'm terrified!" The words burst out of you. "Lando, I've had a crush on you since I was a fan watching races on TV. And now you're real, and you're here, and you want to kiss me, and I'm so scared that if you do, I'm going to—"
You cut yourself off, face burning.
"Going to what?"
You cover your face with your hands. "This is so stupid."
"Tell me." He's moved closer, you can feel the couch dip. "Please."
"I'm afraid I'll drop dead," you mumble into your hands.
There's a beat of silence.
Then he starts laughing.
Not just a chuckle—full-on, head-thrown-back, gasping laughter. You peek through your fingers to find him practically doubled over.
"It's not funny!"
"It's—" He's still laughing, wiping at his eyes. "It's the most ridiculous—you think you'll drop dead?"
"I have a very intense reaction to you, okay? My heart rate goes insane, and I get dizzy, and I can barely think straight, and if you actually kiss me, I'm pretty sure my heart will just give out!"
He's grinning now, that wide, genuine grin that makes your stomach flip. "You're such a muppet."
"I know."
"Come here." He reaches for you, pulling you across the couch until you're pressed against his side. "You're not going to drop dead."
"You don't know that."
"I'm willing to risk it." His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. "Can I kiss you now? Or are you going to duck again?"
"I might duck. I can't make any promises."
"I'll take my chances."
He leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away. But you don't. You can't. You've wanted this for too long.
His lips brush yours, soft and tentative, and your heart does this weird stuttering thing that you're pretty sure isn't medically normal. But then he's kissing you properly, and his hand is sliding into your hair, and you're kissing him back, and—
Oh.
Oh.
This is what all the songs are about. This is what people write poetry about. This feeling like you're falling and flying at the same time, like every nerve ending is on fire, like nothing else in the world matters except this moment, this person, this perfect kiss.
When he finally pulls back, you're staring at him in shock, lips tingling, heart racing.
"Holy shit," you whisper. "I just kissed Lando Norris."
He bursts out laughing again, pulling you closer. "You're so cute. You're so fucking cute, I can't—"
"I kissed Lando Norris," you repeat, still dazed.
"You did." He's grinning against your temple. "And you didn't drop dead. Shocking."
"I might still. My heart is doing weird things."
"Good weird or bad weird?"
"Good weird. Definitely good weird."
He kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheek. "Wait until I officially ask you to be my girlfriend. You're going to absolutely combust."
You pull back to look at him. "You want me to be your girlfriend?"
"Obviously. I've wanted that for months. Why do you think I kept finding excuses to be around you?"
"I thought you were just making sure I didn't injure myself."
"Well, that too. You're a walking hazard." He's playing with your hair now, twirling a strand around his finger. "But mostly I just wanted to be near you. You're funny and smart and adorable when you're flustered, and you actually care about the work you do, and you're not afraid to tell me when I'm being an idiot—"
"You're never an idiot."
"I am frequently an idiot. But you like me anyway."
"I really do," you admit softly.
"Good." He pulls you back against his chest. "Because I'm completely gone for you. Have been since day one when you nearly took yourself out with a coffee cup."
"That's embarrassing."
"That's adorable." He tilts your chin up. "Can I kiss you again? Or do you need a minute to make sure your heart can handle it?"
"Kiss me," you breathe. So he does.
You end up staying.
It's not planned—you should probably go home, should probably process everything that just happened, should probably not be curled up on Lando Norris's couch with his arms around you and his fingers playing with your hair.
But you can't bring yourself to move.
"You're thinking too loud," he murmurs against your temple.
"Sorry."
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"Just... processing. This is real, right? This is actually happening?"
"Very real." He presses a kiss to your hair. "Want me to pinch you?"
"No!"
"I could kiss you again. That seemed to convince you pretty well last time."
Your face heats up. "I can't believe I said that thing about dropping dead."
"I can't believe you actually thought that." His chest rumbles with laughter beneath your cheek. "What did you think was going to happen? You'd kiss me and just keel over?"
"My heart was going to explode from excitement!"
"And did it?"
"No," you admit. "But it was a near thing."
He shifts, pulling you more fully into his lap so you're straddling his thighs, face to face. His hands settle on your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles.
"How's your heart now?" he asks, and there's something heated in his gaze.
"Um. Fast. Very fast."
"Good." He leans in, lips brushing your jaw. "I like knowing I affect you."
"Lando—"
"You're blushing again." He sounds delighted. "God, I love how easily you blush."
"It's not fair," you protest weakly. "You're too attractive. It's not fair that you're this attractive and you know exactly what you're doing."
"I really don't." He pulls back to look at you. "I've been a mess around you for months. Ask Max. He'll tell you how pathetic I've been."
"You have not."
"I have. I've been timing my schedule to run into you. I've been making excuses to touch you. I've been driving Max insane talking about you."
"Really?"
"Really." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're not the only one who's been a disaster. I just hid it better."
"You're Lando Norris. You don't get nervous."
"I get nervous around you." His hands tighten on your waist. "I get nervous that I'll mess this up, or say the wrong thing, or—"
You kiss him. Just lean in and press your lips to his, cutting off his worried rambling.
When you pull back, he's staring at you with wide eyes.
"You kissed me," he says, sounding awed.
"I did."
"You initiated."
"I did."
"You're not going to duck away or panic?"
"I might still panic a little. But I'm working on it."
He grins, that wide, genuine grin that makes your heart stutter. "You're perfect. You know that?"
"I'm a mess."
"You're my mess." He kisses you again, soft and sweet. "My girlfriend is going to be such a mess, and I'm going to love every second of it."
"You haven't actually asked me yet," you point out.
"Haven't I?"
"No. You said you were going to ask me officially."
"Right." He clears his throat dramatically. "Will you—"
"Yes."
"I didn't finish!"
"I don't care. Yes."
He laughs, pulling you close and burying his face in your neck. "You're going to be the death of me."
"I thought I was the one who was going to drop dead."
"We'll both just die. Together. From being too cute."
"That's the worst thing you've ever said."
"You love it."
And the terrible thing is, you do.
You stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, learning the feel of each other. His hands map your back, your sides, your arms. Your fingers trace his jaw, his cheekbones, the curve of his smile.
"I can't believe this is real," you murmur at some point.
"Better get used to it." He's playing with your hair again, and it's making you drowsy. "Because I'm not letting you go now."
"Possessive much?"
"Absolutely. I've been waiting months for this. You're stuck with me now."
"Terrible fate."
"The worst." He kisses your forehead. "You'll have to put up with me being affectionate all the time. And teasing you. And catching you when you trip."
"I don't trip that much anymore."
"You tripped yesterday. Over a completely flat surface."
"That was—there was a—shut up."
He's laughing again, and you can feel it rumbling through his chest. "My girlfriend can't walk in a straight line. This is my life now."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't." He tilts your chin up. "You like me. You said so yourself."
"I'm reconsidering."
"Too late. No take backs." He kisses you again, and you melt into it, into him. "You're mine now."
"Yours," you agree softly.
His arms tighten around you. "Say it again."
"I'm yours."
"Again."
"Lando—"
"I like hearing it. Sue me."
You pull back to look at him, and there's something vulnerable in his eyes, something that makes your heart ache.
"I'm yours," you say clearly. "And you're mine."
"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, I am."
You settle back against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. His hand resumes its path through your hair, and you feel yourself starting to drift.
"Don't fall asleep," he murmurs. "I'm not done teasing you yet."
"Too late."
"I haven't even started on how you're going to react when I tell the team. Or when we go public. Or when I—"
"Lando."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and hold me."
He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Yes, ma'am."
SUMMARY: Y/N spent her entire life being reminded she would never be enough—too ugly, too strange, too easy to overlook. She was raised to believe that love was conditional, and that beauty was the only thing that could make a woman worthy of it.
After years of trying to become someone easier to love, she finally succeeds. Then Lando Norris comes into her life and, for the first time, someone looks at her like she’s worth choosing.
TAGS: ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT, LOW SELF-ESTEEM, BODY IMAGE ISSUES, HURT/COMFORT, INTERNALIZED SELF-HATRED, MORALLY GREY FEMALE CHARACTER
WORD COUNT: 11K
NOTE: Hello everyone, first of all, I want to thank you for the support on my previous stories. I’m still new to all of this, and it truly motivate me to keep writing. I hope you enjoy this story, which feels a bit more raw to me than the others since it touches on some difficult topics. Please keep in mind that the main character has gone through significant unresolved trauma in her life, so some of her behavior and decisions may be questionable at times.
masterlist
“You’re ugly, but you’re a calculating bitch, and that gives you an advantage over the pretty girls.”
That was the sentence my mother said to me the day I told her about my insecurities with men.
It might come as a surprise to many that a mother would use such demeaning words to describe her own daughter, but to me, that was normal growing up.
All my life, I grew up not only under the pressure of a mother like mine, but also in the shadow of a sister who was my complete opposite. Lula was the kind of person who looked like every beauty standard had been sculpted into a single human being. Apparently, just like my mother, she believed that gave her the right to humiliate and throw hurtful words whenever she wasn’t happy with me.
The worst part was that I knew they were right. Back then, I was a very ugly child, extremely skinny, and my features were… unusual, to put it in a less hurtful way.
Life at home was difficult, but school was a thousand times worse. I had no friends. I was intelligent, yes, but I never stood out because I was far too shy to let anyone notice. My classmates were cruel to me. The boys would joke around by pretending to be my boyfriends, and everyone would gag at the idea.
One moment that scarred me forever was when my sister brought one of her friends home. When she introduced me, he made a face of surprise mixed with disgust, as if he couldn’t believe someone so beautiful could have such a horrible-looking sister.
That day, I cried alone in my bedroom. Everyone treated me so badly that it felt like being ugly was the worst sin a person could commit.
Things didn’t get any better in high school. The “hey, my friend is in love with you” jokes no longer affected me, but I watched my classmates grow out of their awkward phases and turn into princesses while I remained just as painfully skinny and ugly.
Then my mother did one of the very few loving things she had ever done for me and took me to a doctor. It turned out I had issues with my immune system, which was why I couldn’t gain weight. With medical treatment and proper care, I eventually overcame it.
Puberty finally arrived, and combined with all the sports I played, my body changed dramatically. I became curvier and fit, the soft curves gave me a beautiful ass and gorgeous boobs, and the extreme thinness disappeared with my childhood, never to return again.
By the time I reached university, maturity had made me practically invisible to everyone. The way I dressed certainly didn’t help. And while I preferred invisibility over being harassed with mockery, human beings are social by nature, and loneliness was beginning to take its toll on me.
Sometimes I felt my thoughts drifting toward darker, more troubling ideas. I think part of it also came from the things my mother used to tell me.
With my first job came my first love. At twenty years old, I had sex for the first time and discovered that I genuinely enjoyed it and that I was actually very good at it. His name was Elliot, and he was my supervisor.
I loved him. I truly did. And I felt loved in return, which is why I believed every word he told me.
Eventually, I realized I was being played when I caught him on a date with one of my sister’s closest friends.
And my sister knew absolutely everything.
When I confronted her, she simply shrugged and, with breathtaking cruelty, said:
“Did you really think a man like him would genuinely fall in love with someone like you?” She laughed. “Get your feet back on the ground. Men only go after ugly girls to fuck them because they’re desperate for anyone to pay attention to them. Women like me are the ones they marry and build families with.”
Her words felt like a blade driven straight through my heart. I already knew men were selfish, filthy creatures, so betrayal from one of them wasn’t exactly shocking.
But betrayal from my own sister—my own blood, the person from whom I still expected loyalty, unconditional support, and love despite everything—has no name.
And you may be wondering, why I’m telling you all of this?
So you can understand that all the chaos I went on to create was justified.
(…)
The cruelty my sister showed that day made it painfully clear that she was never going to change and that I could not trust her or anyone else in my family.
That harsh reality hardened my heart. I began to think that maybe I didn’t want to keep letting life beat me down, and that perhaps it was time to unleash the miserable bitch my mother always claimed was hiding inside me.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t be ugly and cruel at the same time, so I decided to stop being ugly.
Or at least become a little less ugly.
The following year, I isolated myself from everyone. I started training and eating healthy again. I became obsessive about taking care of my hair, followed a strict skincare routine twice a day, and began orthodontic treatment that eventually left my teeth perfect.
I also took several etiquette and glamour classes, where I learned things like maintaining proper posture at all times and walking correctly in high heels.
I replaced every single piece of clothing in my closet and made the effort to pay a stylist to help me build an entirely new look.
Every two weeks, I subjected myself to facial cleanings, waxing appointments, and every kind of cosmetic treatment imaginable.
It seemed to be working, but I needed something more drastic.
Every day, I looked at myself in the mirror, and there was always something about my face that still didn’t feel right.
I consulted a plastic surgeon, who confirmed that what I truly needed was a slight adjustment to my jaw and a nose job to improve the balance of my face.
And that was exactly what I did.
My mother didn’t approve because, to her, beauty had to be natural or it simply didn’t exist. So I went through the entire process alone.
By the time I had fully recovered, I looked like a completely different person from the one who had started this transformation.
Physically, at least.
Inside, I was still just as wounded and alone. I felt that even after everything I had done, my life still had no meaning.
During that time, I had moved to a different city for work and managed to make a couple of friends. One of our favorite things to do together was go out partying.
And on one of those nights, I met Lando Norris.
“Are you related to Taylor Hill?” was the first thing he asked after we were introduced.
“What?” I stammered a little. I was so used to being compared to beautiful women as a joke that I couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.
“Yeah, the model. I mean, you look alike. You have similar features—the eyebrows, the lips, and your eye color,” he continued with a smile.
I looked into his eyes, trying to find even the slightest hint of mockery, but all I found was curiosity and genuine kindness.
“No, I don’t know her,” I finally replied.
“You could be sisters,” he laughed softly.
All I could manage was an awkward little chuckle.
“Do you want another drink?” he asked after noticing I had finished mine.
I hesitated for a moment. No guy had ever bought me a drink before.
“Yeah… why not?”
Lando got up from the couch and headed toward the bar.
I turned to look at my friend Jack, who immediately started making obscene gestures with his hand and mouth, mimicking someone giving a blowjob.
I grimaced in disgust.
Little asshole.
Lando came back a few minutes later and handed me a drink—the same tequila sunrise I had been having before.
“I haven’t seen you around Jack before. How do you know each other?” he asked before taking a sip of his drink.
I explained that we were coworkers and that we got along so well professionally that it naturally turned into a friendship.
“So, are you a psychologist too?”
“No, I’m an engineer, but I don’t work in the field anymore. I’m in the administrative department of a healthcare services company.” I didn’t mention that my grandfather—technically my step-grandfather—owned it.
“Oh. Well, I don’t know much about that, but I guess it must be interesting,” he nodded while looking at me.
“If you think answering requests from grumpy old people is interesting, then yes, I have fun every single day,” I replied sarcastically.
Lando laughed.
“Tell me about your job. Since I studied engineering, I understand the car aspect of F1 a little, but what’s it actually like being a driver?”
“Well, more than a job, I guess it’s my passion. It’s what I love doing most in the world.” Something in Lando seemed to light up as he spoke.
He went on to tell me about racing and which parts of it he loved most.
The two of us became completely absorbed in conversation for the rest of the night. Lando was definitely interesting—and he genuinely seemed like the kind of person who would make a great friend.
“He likes you,” Jack said the moment we got into his car after saying goodbye to everyone else.
“Who?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“What do you mean, who? The man you spent the entire night talking to. Lando Norris, you idiot,” he said as if it were painfully obvious.
“Jack, you’re misreading the situation.”
“I know what I saw, Y/N. That man was practically drooling over you.”
“Of course he wasn’t… and even if he was, I’m not interested in him. At least not like that. My type is completely different from him.”
(…)
“I still can’t get used to your face. You look so… weird.”
I let out a sigh.
“Hi, Mom. I missed you too.”
I hadn’t wanted to come to this “family gathering” because I knew the moment my mother saw me, she would start with her passive-aggressive comments.
My grandfather—technically my step-grandfather—was obsessed with golf. So obsessed, in fact, that he owned shares in one of the largest golf clubs in London.
It was his birthday today, and he had decided to celebrate it here.
And even though I didn’t get along with my family, I had to come no matter what, because he was one of the very few people who genuinely supported me.
“Let’s head to the first hole,” my grandfather instructed. “The earlier we start, the more we’ll get out of the day.”
We split into two golf carts and began our round.
This time it was my mother, my sister, my stepfather, my grandfather, my grandfather’s other son, his wife, and their little boy.
We played until midday before deciding to head back for lunch.
“I’m going to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be right back,” my sister announced before walking away.
“We’ll wait here for you, sweetheart,” my mother replied before turning to me. “Y/N, what have you been doing here in London now that you’re all alone?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I swallowed hard. No matter how emotionally detached I was from her, my mother still intimidated me.
“Working,” I answered simply.
She let out a quiet scoff.
“I don’t understand why you made your father spend all that money sending you to school just for you to never use your degree. What a waste. But then again, nothing about you surprises me anymore,” she scolded.
A sharp pain settled in the center of my chest, but before I could respond, my stepfather spoke for me.
“Mirna, we’re celebrating as a family. Let her enjoy the day. She’s not the first nor the last person who doesn’t work in their field. At least she’s not wasting her life being lazy.”
My mother merely rolled her eyes at her husband’s harsh tone.
It wasn’t common for my stepfather to defend me. He cared about me in his own way, but he preferred not to interfere with my mother’s parenting. Many times, he comforted me when her cruelty crossed the line, though he always limited himself to telling me to try to understand her.
My mother and I were immigrants. We arrived in this country after my biological father became an alcoholic and buried himself in debt. Here, my mother met Roger, and they got married. Some time later, my sister was born.
I suppose part of my mother’s resentment toward me came from how much I resembled my father. Of course, that was never said out loud.
Roger always told me to understand her—that her life hadn’t been easy and that all she wanted was for me to succeed.
“Y/N is my best employee, and I have absolutely no complaints about her, Mirna. Don’t worry about her. She’s a very level-headed girl,” my grandfather added.
My mother simply shook her head with quiet disdain.
Her attention shifted toward my sister, who had apparently come back from the restroom and was now chatting animatedly with a man whose face I couldn’t properly see because he had his back turned to us.
Finally, my sister took him by the arm, and the moment he turned around, both of them started walking toward our table. The second I got a better look at him, my eyes widened in surprise.
“This is my family,” my sister introduced proudly, still holding onto his arm. “Family, this is my friend Lando.”
Her voice carried unmistakable excitement.
She began introducing us one by one, and the moment Lando’s eyes landed on me, his expression mirrored my own surprise.
“Y/N, it’s good to see you again.” He took my hand, giving it a small shake without losing his smile.
My sister’s smile faltered for a split second.
Almost imperceptibly.
But I noticed.
“You know each other?” she asked after recovering herself as though nothing had happened.
My mind immediately started moving faster.
She likes him.
That’s why she introduced him like that—like he was her future husband and not just a friend.
Pathetic.
“Yeah, we have some mutual friends,” Lando answered naturally.
My sister let out a small, obviously forced laugh.
“What a surprise… such a small world.”
Her eyes shifted toward me, and the smile she gave me was painfully tense.
I’ve got you, bitch.
“Yeah, that’s true. Lando is great company,” I replied this time.
The twisted thoughts that sometimes haunted me began to resurface. A plan was slowly forming in the darkest part of my mind.
My mother always said I was a calculating bitch.
I suppose it was finally time to make her proud and show her just how far I could go.
(…)
“Just the person I was looking for,” I said the moment I sat down across from the only person who could help me right now.
Jack lowered his glasses slightly so he could look at me over the frame.
“Missed me?” he asked sarcastically.
“Of course I did,” I replied in a sweet voice.
“Okay, now I’m actually getting a little scared.”
“You’re so dramatic. I just wanted to talk to you about… life, friendships, entertaiment, you know, very casual things.”
“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms while studying me more carefully. “What does the lady want?”
“I just wanted to ask you a few things. You know… about your friend Lando.”
Jack burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked flatly.
“I thought you said you weren’t interested and that he wasn’t your type.”
“I never said otherwise. I just want to know more about him,” I replied, pretending it wasn’t a big deal.
“Alright then, what do you want to know?” He took off his glasses and placed them on the table between us.
“How often do you see him? I mean, do you hang out regularly or are you more like one-of-those-friends-you-see-once-a-year?”
“And why exactly do you want so many details?” His brow furrowed suspiciously.
“Just answer me, please?” I pressed my hands together pleadingly and stuck out my lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
Jack let out a sigh before answering.
“Well, I couldn’t really tell you exactly. We see each other pretty much whenever he’s in London. At least we try to.”
“And when is he coming back?”
“Y/N, I’m not answering another question until you tell me what’s going on or admit that you like him.” His voice was firm and final.
I knew that if I told Jack what I was actually planning, he would look at me like I was completely insane.
So I lied.
“Fine. I like him. I think he’s cute,” I answered, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear.
“You know what? I still don’t believe you.”
Indignation rushed through my body.
“It’s true.”
“Really? Since when?”
“I saw him again at the golf club over the weekend, and I got a better look at him. He’s actually very…” I paused, searching for the right words. “Charming. And really handsome too,” I finished.
“You know I still don’t buy any of this, but whatever. I’ll answer your question. He’s coming to my birthday party. You’re lucky.”
Excitement buzzed through my body. Finally, for once, luck seemed to be on my side.
“Thanks, Jack. I’d kiss you right now if it were professionally acceptable.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He grabbed his glasses and pointed them at me. “You owe me an amazing birthday gift for the favor I just did for you—and for the ones I’m about to do.”
“Expect nothing less from me.”
We both stood up, and I took the opportunity to give him a hug that Human Resources would fully approve of.
I walked back to my desk replaying the plan forming inside my head.
My sister was the one who owed me the most. Her humiliation had crossed every limit I had, and it was finally time for me to strike back.
It was obvious she liked Lando, and I knew that in her airheaded little mind she was already imagining a relationship with him. She was so predictable it barely took effort to figure her out.
That night at the bar, when Lando and I talked for hours, I had felt his interest in me too. At the time, I dismissed it—mostly because of my insecurities—but now it was something I could use to my advantage.
I was going to make sure Lando and I slept together. My sister didn’t need to know, but if my assumptions about him were correct, he would never entertain her romantic fantasies after getting involved with me. His conscience wouldn’t allow it.
And just like that, the little fantasy bubble my sister was living in would burst. Knowing her the way I did, she would spiral into a depressive state for quite a while.
It was a simple plan.
Maybe even a stupid one.
But effective.
There was absolutely no way anything could go wrong.
(…)
Two weeks later, it was finally Jack’s birthday, and in true Jack fashion, he decided to celebrate it at a rooftop bar.
Earlier that same day, he had confirmed that Lando would actually be there.
So, for the occasion, I decided to wear black. The stylist I had hired once told me the color looked perfect against my tanned skin.
When I finished getting ready, I looked at myself in the mirror.
The black silk dress clung to my body with a soft, fluid drape. The halter neckline left my shoulders bare, while the open back dipped down to the curve of my waist, held together only by two thin straps tied behind my neck. The dress was absurdly short, brushing the tops of my thighs and barely covering my ass.
I paired it with impossibly high black patent heels, delicate straps wrapped around my ankles and open toes. Simple, elegant, and painfully uncomfortable.
I wore my hair in a low bun and left my curtain bangs loose to make my face appear slimmer.
My makeup was light. I still struggled to experiment with it. The ugly-girl complex wouldn’t let me. I was embarrassed by the thought of people seeing me as an ugly woman trying too hard to be beautiful.
I was giving myself one final look-over when the intercom buzzed. It was the security guard announcing that someone had arrived to pick me up.
When I got downstairs, I was met with a car I didn’t recognize. I was just about to turn around and ask the guard if there had been some mistake when the driver’s window rolled down, revealing none other than Lando in the driver’s seat.
Jack, I love you, you son of a bitch.
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my lips, and when Lando noticed my reaction, he smiled just as brightly.
“Lando, I wasn’t expecting you,” I said as I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Jack asked me to come pick you up, and I couldn’t really say no.”
Lando was dressed in black pants, a white sweater, and an open jacket layered over it. His curly hair fell slightly over his forehead. He had a beautiful smile—and even prettier eyes.
If I believed something serious could ever happen between us, I would probably allow myself to like him.
But that was almost impossible.
Lando was successful, attractive, and surrounded by thousands of beautiful women—women who, most importantly, were naturally beautiful.
So I settled for the idea of simply sleeping with him and ruining my sister’s life in the process.
We arrived at the bar, and almost immediately someone shoved a drink into our hands. Jack didn’t believe in warm-ups. He always went straight for the main event: drinking and dancing until he collapsed.
I sat down on a small couch while Lando wandered off to greet half the room. He clearly had that effortlessly popular-boy energy—the kind of person everyone naturally liked.
Meanwhile, I sat there alone, not speaking to anyone. Jack and Lando were the only people I knew in that place, and even though I had promised myself I would enjoy the night, my old demons decided to pay me a visit.
My thoughts turned dark.
I was an idiot. Of course my plan would never work. Lando would never truly look at someone like me, and even if he did, my sister would still go on with her life making mine hell.
I was stupid. All the effort I put into changing myself physically should have gone into something actually worthy. My mother was right. My sister was right. My classmates were right.
“Hey, why the long face?” Lando asked as he sat down beside me.
I snapped out of my thoughts, trying to hide the burning sensation gathering behind my eyes. I inhaled slowly, attempting to steady my breathing.
By then, Lando’s expression had already shifted into one of concern.
“I’m okay. The drinks are just a little strong,” I said, lifting my half-empty glass.
He didn’t seem convinced.
“Okay… if you want, I can get you something lighter.” He gestured toward the bar behind us with his thumb.
“No, don’t worry about it. I think I should probably stop drinking.”
I was ridiculous. My life was pathetic and meaningless.
I would probably be better off dead.
Apparently, my face betrayed my thoughts because Lando’s expression softened even further with worry.
“Do you want to go downstairs and get some air?” he asked, getting up before I could answer.
He took my hand and guided me toward the elevator.
Downstairs, we sat on a wooden bench near the parking lot.
“Aren’t you cold? It’s the middle of December, and you don’t even have a jacket.” He slipped off his own and draped it over my shoulders.
It was the first time a man had ever done that for me.
That made two firsts I had experienced with Lando.
I laughed softly.
“What?” he asked with a smile.
“Nothing. I’m just kind of a disaster,” I muttered, wiping my nose with the palm of my hand. At this rate, I was probably going to catch a cold.
“Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. Everybody has bad moments.” One of his hands rested on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“My whole life has been a bad moment,” I laughed humorlessly.
“Well, don’t let tonight become one too.” His hand slid down to my bare back, rubbing slow comforting circles against my skin. “Come back upstairs with me, okay? I promise you’ll have fun.”
“Okay,” I answered after a moment of hesitation.
To hell with my plan.
My sister wasn’t worth it.
I was going to get drunk tonight, and tomorrow I’d go right back to drowning in my self-destructive little hole.
We went back upstairs and immediately started drinking again. We danced until my feet nearly bled. Around three in the morning, the party finally started dying down, and it was time to head home.
“I’ll take you home,” Lando whispered into my ear.
I simply nodded.
I was completely wasted.
We made our way down to the parking lot and headed toward his car. Once inside, I settled into the passenger seat, waiting for him to start the engine.
But Lando stayed still, his hands resting on the steering wheel before he slowly turned to look at me.
The intensity of his gaze made me uneasy.
“What?” I asked.
Without saying a word, he leaned toward me and pressed his lips against mine.
I froze in surprise for a second before finally kissing him back. Slowly, the kiss deepened.
His tongue brushed against my lips one last time before we finally pulled apart, our eyes meeting in the dim light of the car.
“I really like you, Y/N,” he whispered.
Change of plans.
The plan was back in motion.
(…)
Throughout my life, I had found myself in ridiculous situations. Even though I tried to avoid them, God seemed to have made me into some kind of experiment, using me to test just how much humiliation a person could endure before finally exploding.
Tonight, however, the situation was ridiculous in a completely different way.
And far from embarrassing me, it felt unbelievably good.
Lando drove with one hand while the other tangled itself in my long dark hair. My warm mouth wrapped around his large cock had him letting out quiet little moans (don't try this at home). I sat in the passenger seat, but the upper half of my body was bent over toward Lando’s seat so I could reach his dick more easily. The position was uncomfortable, but it was worth it just to watch him struggle not to close his eyes from the pleasure.
My neck moved up and down in a steady rhythm. I hollowed my cheeks slightly, and my tongue traced along his length every time I slid him in and out of my mouth.
I knew I was good at this.
During one of my weird phases, I had watched some porn—not because it turned me on, but because I treated it like study material. Which, in hindsight, was admittedly problematic, considering most of it is performative and completely detached from what sex is actually like. Though I only realized that later.
The point was, I had learned a lot.
I knew I could give a good blowjob, that I was flexible enough to handle almost any position, and that all the years of sports had given me enough stamina to ride someone for an hour straight without my legs cramping.
Back to the blowjob.
I took him so deep that the head of his cock brushed against the back of my throat.
“Fuck—”
Lando released my hair just long enough to jerk the steering wheel sharply. The movement was so sudden I had to stop what I was doing. I sat back up and realized he had parked beneath a tree in a dark isolated spot.
“Come here.”
He pushed his seat back, creating more space between himself and the steering wheel. Then he tugged his pants down further until his cock was completely exposed.
I climbed over into his seat and settled between his legs, my back pressed against his chest. Lando cupped my face, and we kissed again.
Suddenly, he shoved me forward. My breasts pressed against the steering wheel, in this position my ass was perfectly angled for him to pull my black thong aside.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered against my ear. “So desperate to have my big cock inside you, huh?”
The sharp smack of his palm against my ass forced a moan out of me.
Lando took his dick in his hand and began rubbing the tip against the entrance of my pussy.
Slowly, he started sliding it inside me, stretching my walls and drawing a series of moans from my lips.
“Yeah… you love that, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh…” was all I could manage to reply.
Once he was fully inside me, I started moving up and down. Lando gripped my hips with both hands, matching my rhythm and making it easier for me to move. Because of the cramped space, he couldn’t move much himself, so most of the work fell to me.
With every hard drop onto him, the car rocked slightly, and in that tiny space the only sounds were my ass slapping against him and the moans spilling from both of us.
My pace stayed steady; I never once stopped to rest. The angle I was in made Lando’s cock hit deep inside me, enough to make my eyes roll back.
I was so wet I could already imagine a white ring of my fluids forming around the base of his cock.
“Wait, wait…” Lando grabbed my hips to stop me. “I don’t want to come yet.”
He took a few deeper breaths, trying to hold back his orgasm.
“Alright… now.”
He gave my ass a hard slap.
I decided to shift positions a little. I lifted both legs until they were bent, resting my bare feet on either side of Lando’s thighs. My back pressed completely against his chest. It looked like a mix between an Asian squat and a reverse cowgirl — the best I could manage in such a tight space.
Lando immediately understood what I wanted. Once he saw I was fully settled, he thrust back into me with full force. I resumed moving up and down, now with a little more difficulty, but without slowing for even a second.
Lando tilted my face toward his and started kissing me. At the same time, one of his hands found my nipple while the other began rubbing my clit.
The sensations were overwhelming, I could feel my orgasm building fast.
“Yes… just like that…”
Only moans escaped my lips, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
With a few more breathless cries, I came. My legs started trembling from the intensity of the orgasm.
Seeing the pleasure twisting through my body, Lando couldn’t hold back much longer. After only two more thrusts, he came too.
“Fuck!” he groaned as warm spurts spilled from him.
Somehow, I managed to climb back into my seat. Our breathing was ragged, and the heat radiating from our bodies had completely fogged up the windows.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever ridden me like that before,” he said with a straight face.
So serious that it made me laugh, and he quickly joined in.
“Want to come back to my place?” he asked, his eyes lingering on my bare chest.
I shrugged lightly.
“Why not?”
(…)
The next day, Sunday, I woke up with a horrible headache, fully prepared to run out of Lando’s apartment and disappear forever before he could wake up.
The problem was that Lando had gotten up long before I did and walked into the bedroom carrying breakfast before I could make my escape.
We ate together, and after a while, I finally managed to relax a little. We talked about trivial things, both carefully avoiding the obvious elephant in the room.
Later, I showered, Lando lent me some of his clothes, and then he drove me home. I wanted to say goodbye with a hug, but he was faster and kissed me instead.
Today is Monday, and just as I predicted, I came down with the flu. My whole body felt miserable and sluggish.
I still had to come to work.
The first person I saw was Jack, who immediately looked me up and down with an all-knowing grin.
Asshole.
I threw myself completely into work, so much that I entirely forgot to get up and find something to eat.
Turns out I didn’t need to.
With a quiet little laugh, Jack placed a paper bag in front of me that very obviously contained food.
“And what miracle is this?” I asked in surprise.
“Not from me, so don’t get too excited.”
Confused, I opened the bag and found several containers inside. One of them held soup.
“It’s from your new boyfriend,” he confessed mockingly.
My cheeks instantly started turning red, which only made Jack laugh harder.
“That’s what good pussy does to a man,” he said while walking away.
I nearly choked on my soup.
Son of a bitch.
I finished lunch and threw myself back into work. Nepotism may have secured me the position, but it certainly wouldn’t keep me in it, so I had to work hard.
I was focused on replying to a request when my phone buzzed with a message notification.
When I checked it, it was from an unknown number.
X: Hope you liked the soup. Jack told me what your favorite kind was. Get well soon ❤️
X: By the way, it’s Lando.
ME: Hi, Lando 😅
ME: Thank you so much for the soup and the good wishes. I’m already feeling a little better 🥰❤️
LANDO: glad to hear that
LANDO: I’m on vacation for the next few weeks
LANDO: I was thinking maybe we could go to the Christmas market together. What do you think?
I stared at my phone for a couple of minutes, unsure of what to reply.
The plan was supposed to end once I slept with Lando. Going out with him afterward had never been part of it.
Lando was sweet, and he treated me well, but deep down I knew I didn’t really want a relationship with someone at his level. That would expose me to situations even harsher than the ones I had lived through.
There was a difference between my family humiliating me and calling me ugly and the entire world doing it.
I wouldn’t survive that.
I preferred remaining invisible to everyone and living a quiet life.
But somewhere inside me, there was still a small desperate desire to experience the things I never got to have, and this was probably the biggest one of all.
I had never experienced what it felt like to go on a real date with someone. I mean, I thought I had been in a relationship with Elliot, but according to him, that had only existed in my head.
He had never made an effort to do anything because he knew I would settle for the bare minimum.
I thought about it a little longer and realized… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
The plan had already succeeded, but if I had the chance to take things a little further, why wouldn’t I?
ME: I’d love to. When?
That Saturday, Lando came to pick me up at my apartment. We were both dressed comfortably this time—and properly bundled up. My flu had already passed its worst stage, but the moment we arrived at the Christmas market, Lando insisted on buying me a scarf.
“To protect your throat from the cold.”
We wandered through the crowds, stopping every so often at little stalls to eat sweets and drink hot chocolate. Overall, it was a really lovely evening, and I laughed more than I had in a very long time.
The cherry on top was ending the night moaning while Lando penetrated me mercilessly in his bed.
I would repeat it all over again without hesitation.
(…)
By the time New Year’s came around, I assumed my “relationship” with Lando would quietly fade into oblivion.
Instead, the opposite happened.
He seemed more and more interested in spending time with me.
And honestly, I always said yes whenever he invited me out or asked me to hang out because I genuinely enjoyed being around him.
I also had to admit that the sex played a big part in it too. We had an unreal kind of sexual chemistry.
The months passed quickly, and before I knew it, it was already March, and Lando had to leave for Australia to start the season. He seemed excited because things were looking promising with both the team and the car.
The day after saying goodbye to him, I had to attend a dinner my grandfather had organized, which of course meant my entire family would be there.
Throughout dinner, my sister seemed oddly downcast, and apparently I wasn’t the only one who noticed because my mother eventually asked her what was wrong. She only gave a vague answer.
I didn’t pay much attention to it. Her problems meant nothing to me, and frankly, I couldn’t care less about whatever she was going through. As long as she wasn’t dying, I figured she could deal with things on her own.
“Y/N, can you ask your mother to bring another bottle of wine? They’re in the kitchen,” my stepfather asked.
“Yeah, of course.”
I got up and headed toward the back of the house where the kitchen was, but just before walking in, I heard my sister’s shaky voice and instinctively stopped.
“I just don’t understand what happened. I mean, he seemed interested. I thought maybe we could become something more, but…” Her voice cracked at the end.
“But what?” my mother urged gently.
“But when I talked to him and told him how I felt, he just apologized and said he was dating someone and didn’t want to confuse things. He said he only saw me as a friend.” A quiet sob escaped her mouth.
“Oh, sweetheart… better men will come into your life.”
“Mom, it’s Lando Norris. I highly doubt anyone compares to him.”
My heart stopped for a second.
She was talking about Lando.
My Lando.
With all the time that had passed and the strange turn my plan had taken, I had almost forgotten this whole thing had started because I wanted to hurt my sister.
And apparently, it was working.
Just not in the way I imagined.
Lando is dating someone?
An uncomfortable knot settled in the pit of my stomach.
Why hadn’t he told me?
We were fucking just the day before, and not once had he bothered mentioning that there was someone else.
I couldn’t listen to the rest of the conversation between my mother and sister because my eyes started filling with tears. I went straight to the bathroom, trying to contain the anxiety attack already creeping its way into my chest.
Why would Lando play with me like that?
Why had he been so kind and attentive if all he wanted was to use me?
The answer was obvious.
Because he was a fucking man.
That was all.
A fucking man who saw me as easy prey.
Who saw right through me—through every insecurity and every complex I carried inside myself.
My eyes met my reflection in the mirror.
But then again, what man wouldn’t jump at the chance of having consequence-free sex?
My sister had been right. Men only sleep with the ugly girl because she’s desperate enough to serve them her pussy on a silver plate
And I was still that ugly girl.
No matter how much my exterior had changed, she was still alive inside me.
The following days felt like an out-of-body experience. I was there, but at the same time, I wasn’t. I did everything on autopilot.
Lando had started the season by winning in Australia, and I think he had been waiting for my congratulatory message, because after that, he started texting me relentlessly.
I didn’t answer a single one of them.
You would think that after being ignored like that, he would eventually give up and stop looking for me.
But no.
If anything, he seemed almost insane trying to get me to talk to him.
His messages went from desperate to resigned, then angry, and finally apologetic.
I wanted to reply. In fact, I was using every ounce of self-control not to.
Because if I answered him, I knew I’d lose control and end up telling him everything I overheard, and that would turn into accusations. I couldn’t be shameless enough to accuse him of using me when I had been doing the exact same thing from the very beginning.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on between you and Lando, but you two need to fix it. I can’t deal with his message-spamming, and I definitely can’t keep coming into work every day and seeing your abandoned-puppy face,” Jack said the moment he sat down beside me at lunch.
“Hi, Jack. Nice to see you too.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N. What’s going on? Last I checked, things between you two were going amazingly.”
His expression made it clear he wouldn’t accept anything less than the truth.
I let out a deep sigh.
“The other day, I overheard my sister saying—”
I couldn’t even finish because Jack immediately let out an exasperated groan.
“Your sister is a fucking bitch. I wouldn’t believe a single thing that comes out of her mouth.”
“But… she sounded convincing.”
“I’m sure she did,” he rolled his eyes. “But don’t you think you should at least give him the chance to explain what happened?”
I knew I should.
But I couldn’t demand honesty from someone when I hadn’t given any myself.
“Do it for me, okay? So I can finally get that pain-in-the-ass man off my back.”
I laughed quietly, though there wasn’t much humor in it.
According to the F1 calendar, Lando should be in Japan by now. I calculated the time difference and decided the best thing would be to call him the next morning.
The following day, I woke up earlier than usual so I’d have time to talk to him.
I called his phone.
It rang without an answer.
Maybe he’s busy right now.
The time difference was around eight hours, so I knew he had to be awake already.
I was about to put my phone down and continue with my morning routine when it suddenly started ringing with an incoming call from Lando.
My heart immediately sped up, and my hands began trembling.
I cleared my throat before answering.
“Hello?”
“Y/N… where the hell have you been? I’ve texted you like a hundred times.” His voice sounded desperate.
“I’m sorry, Lando, it’s just…” The words disappeared from my mouth.
“It’s just what? You didn’t even have one minute to say, ‘Hi Lando, I’m fine, I just don’t want you in my life anymore’?” His tone turned sharper.
“It’s not that, Lando.”
“Then what is it? Why did you disappear like that? Did you even think about how that would affect me?”
The accusations kept coming.
“Lando, it’s just… I’m sorry, okay?” was all I managed to say.
“Sorry for what? Give me an actual explanation.”
“Fine. A few days ago, I overheard something about you, and it upset me a little.”
“What did you hear?” he insisted immediately.
“That you were dating someone else. I mean… I know we’re not officially anything, and you don’t owe me explanations, but I’m not willing to be someone’s second option.”
I finally admitted it, trying my hardest not to sound accusatory.
Lando went silent for a moment. The only thing I could hear was his uneven breathing.
“What?” was the first thing he finally said. “Who told you that?”
“My sister,” I admitted softly.
Lando started laughing, though it didn’t sound amused.
It sounded disbelieving.
I stayed quiet, simply listening.
“Okay,” he finally said after a minute. “I think I understand what’s happening now. Your sister and I have some mutual friends, and we used to hang out together sometimes. You know, parties and stuff like that. I saw her as a friend. Nothing more. I swear.”
I stayed silent, my anxiety practically eating me alive while he continued.
“The last week I was in London, we all went out again, and at one point she pulled me aside and told me she liked me.” He paused briefly, almost hesitant. “I never gave her any reason to think something could happen between us, so honestly, I was surprised. I told her I was dating someone and that we could only be friends.”
Another pause.
“Because you and I are dating each other… right?” he finished uncertainly.
I went completely speechless.
Lando and I were dating?
Since when?
I mean, yes, we went out together and spent time together constantly, but he had never officially asked me anything. Unless I was just stupid and didn’t understand how relationships worked.
“Y/N?” Lando’s voice pulled me back to reality.
“Yes—I mean, I don’t know… you never asked me.” My face burned from how stupid I sounded.
“I’m sorry. I know I should’ve been more direct so there wouldn’t be any confusion. I just assumed you already knew.” He sounded oddly shy now. “Y/N… will you be my girlfriend? I know this isn’t exactly ideal, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
My breath caught in my chest.
Lando couldn’t possibly be serious.
How had I even gotten to this point? He wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me. I was only using him to hurt my sister a little.
I thought about saying no.
I really did.
But then another thought followed immediately after:
Why not? (That should be my new life motto btw)
This transformation deserved a grand finale, and what better ending than having someone like Lando Norris by my side?
“Okay… yes. I accept.”
God, I was an idiot.
But I’d figure out later how to deal with the disaster that was inevitably coming with my sister… and with the rest of the world.
Lando let out a long relieved breath.
“I really like you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt that for a second. I would never play with you or risk what we have.”
A stab of guilt twisted in my stomach.
I was such a bitch.
“Now tell me,” he continued, “what exactly did your sister say?”
A lightbulb practically went off inside my head.
“We were at the dinner my grandfather organized, and as always, she started making fun of me. Saying I was stupid for thinking someone like you would ever want anything to do with someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“Yes. Someone ugly, awkward, and pathetic like me,” I continued dramatically.
“What the fuck?”
“Then she said you only pretended to care about girls like me and that you would never in your life even touch me with a ten-foot pole because you already had a girlfriend.”
Inside, I was practically cackling like an evil witch.
“Y/N, you know that’s not true. Why would she say something that horrible?”
“Because she hates me. It’s really that simple.”
“And how does she even know you were interested in me? Did you tell her?”
The small smile that had formed on my lips vanished instantly.
“Well… I think she suspected it because I asked her a few questions about you,” I answered, trying to hide the slight tremble in my voice.
When my script started falling apart, I wasn’t nearly as good at lying.
Lando sighed.
“I didn’t think your sister was like that. Maybe I should talk—”
“NO.”
I cut him off before he could finish.
“I mean… I don’t think that’s a good idea. It would just create more problems between us.”
“Alright. I won’t do it only because you’re asking me not to. But I really don’t like that she’s talking so much shit behind people’s backs.”
I let out a small laugh.
“Don’t worry about it. She says plenty of shit to my face too.”
Lando laughed softly.
“Baby, I have to go. I need to get back to work. I’ll call you around noon, okay? Keep your phone close.”
And just like that, we said goodbye.
I replayed the conversation several times while showering and getting dressed.
How was it possible that out of nowhere, I suddenly had a boyfriend?
And not just any boyfriend.
Lando Norris.
My life had become so strange ever since I decided to become pretty—and cruel.
And speaking of cruel, I know lying to Lando about the conversation with my sister was wrong.
Even childish.
Why did I do it? Because I can.
Well… in reality, it was because according to my logic, if Lando and I were going to be in a relationship, then he couldn’t stay friends with my sister.
He was either with me or against me.
And I was willing to do absolutely anything to make sure it never became the second option.
(…)
A few months had passed since that day, and my relationship with Lando was going incredibly well. Even in the middle of the season, Lando always found time to come back to London so we could see each other.
I had also gotten the chance to meet his family and part of his McLaren team, and little by little, we kept growing closer and more attached to one another.
Our relationship still wasn’t public, partly because I was terrified of my family’s reaction and partly because I knew that once the world found out, I would never know what it felt like to be completely invisible again.
And that scared me more than anything.
Lando respected my decision, but it was obvious that, in some way, he wanted me to be present at his races. He was doing incredibly well, and even though half the season was still left, people were already projecting him as the future champion.
Which filled me with pride.
“You should come with me to Silverstone.”
I opened my eyes and lifted my head from Lando’s chest. His hand lazily played with my hair.
“I’m not really sure. What if someone notices?”
“Would that really be so bad?” Lando kissed my forehead before looking at me expectantly.
“No, of course not. It’s just… you know. I’m scared,” I admitted while holding his gaze.
“Y/N, sooner or later it’s going to happen. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, but I would like you to be there at my races.” He noticed my hesitation immediately. “Look, if you want, you don’t even have to go near the cameras. We’ll keep you in the garage where nobody will bother you. Okay?”
I thought about it for a little longer, but in the end, I agreed.
It was time to accept that if I wanted to be with Lando, this was going to become my new reality. Sooner or later, I would have to get used to it.
We agreed that I would only attend on Sunday—the race day.
That morning, I nearly lost my mind trying to decide what to wear, how to do my makeup, and what to do with my hair. If this was how every race weekend was going to be, I was genuinely going to lose it.
Eventually, I settled on a short mauve-pink chiffon dress with a deep V-neckline, a ruched bodice, and bishop sleeves that weren’t overly dramatic. The waist was decorated with lace details, and the skirt fell in layered lettuce-edge ruffles.
I paired it with nude stiletto sandals fastened with delicate ankle straps.
I decided to wear only a light layer of makeup and leave my long dark hair loose.
Lando had already given me my paddock passes beforehand and arranged for someone from the team to pick me up and take me directly to the garage. By then, I already recognized several people, so I didn’t feel quite as out of place anymore.
I managed to talk to Lando for a little while before he disappeared into race preparations. Everyone treated me kindly. It was obvious they all knew I was Lando’s new girlfriend.
Once the race started, they insisted on giving me a seat where I could see everything better. The experience oddly reminded me of some of my engineering classes, which made me unexpectedly nostalgic.
During the pre-race broadcast, several cameras kept focusing on the garage.
And that was when it happened.
One of the cameras zoomed in directly on my face. I only realized because I suddenly saw myself on one of the large broadcast screens. I looked up and found the camera pointed straight at me.
I immediately looked away and tried to act natural while subtly hiding behind someone else.
Several people in the garage laughed after noticing my reaction.
How embarrassing.
Lando walked over to kiss my cheek goodbye before the race started, and unfortunately for me, the camera caught that too.
Anyone watching the broadcast at that moment could easily put the pieces together and figure out exactly what was going on.
I tried not to think about it and focused instead on the start of the race.
I would deal with the gossip later.
The race started, and the entire time I felt my heart lodged in my throat. I tried to stay calm, but there were moments when it became almost impossible.
In the end, Lando won the race.
His team wanted me there to greet him afterward, but honestly, I felt like I had enough attention for the day.
After the celebration, we decided it would be best to head back to London immediately. A few weeks of break were coming up, and Lando wanted to enjoy every second of them.
“Are you staying at my apartment?” Lando asked.
“Yes, but I need to stop by mine first to grab a few things.”
“What things? You can just wear my clothes, and tomorrow we’ll pick up the rest.”
“No, I need my skincare stuff. I can’t go to bed without doing it.”
Lando sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes in amusement.
“Alright, alright. Women and their things,” he muttered under his breath.
“Hey.”
Lando answered my complaint with a laugh.
Idiot.
We arrived at my apartment building after about two hours on the road.
We stepped into the elevator, and Lando immediately started kissing me while I tried to push him away. The last thing I wanted was for security to catch us on the cameras.
The elevator doors opened when we reached my floor, and we stepped out still caught up in our playful teasing.
“I always knew you were a fucking jealous bitch.”
My sister’s voice startled me so badly I nearly jumped.
Before I could even react, her palm collided hard against my cheek.
The shock was so intense that I froze completely.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lando snapped instantly. “Who the hell gave you the right to hit her?”
His voice was furious as he stepped directly in front of me protectively.
“You knew perfectly well that I liked him, and you still acted like a slut and crawled into his bed. You’re nothing but fucking trash, and you always have been. That’s why I hate you, and that’s why Mom hates you too.”
Lula ignored every single one of Lando’s questions and kept screaming in my direction instead.
Every word felt like another knife sinking into my already battered heart.
“Are you insane? I’m not going to let you disrespect her like that,” Lando shouted back. All I could see was his back rising and falling sharply with restrained anger.
“Don’t defend her. You have no idea who she really is or what she’s capable of. She’s a miserable bitch who could never stand the fact that I was better than her at everything, so she decided to go after you. Don’t you get it?” Lula was becoming more hysterical by the second, desperately trying to “make him understand.”
“This is who she was before she started pretending to be someone else. She hates me because I’ll always be more beautiful than her, and because ever since we were kids, she’s been nothing more than dirt stuck to the bottom of my shoe.”
Lula shoved a handful of photos toward Lando, who silently began flipping through them one by one.
I barely caught a glimpse of them before all the blood drained from my face.
They were pictures of me as a child and teenager.
Before the surgeries.
Before I learned how to take care of my appearance.
My eyes immediately filled with tears from the humiliation and heartbreak crashing over me.
How much did my sister have to hate me to do something like this?
Was I really that disgusting to her?
Lando stayed quiet for a moment before finally turning toward me.
“Y/N… I’m so sorry.”
His expression was completely serious, while on Lula’s face, a satisfied smile slowly began forming alongside an even more smug look.
Then Lando took the photos in his hands and ripped them apart.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with such a fucking bitch your entire life.”
He took my hand and guided me back toward the elevator.
The look on Lula’s face was fucking priceless.
She definitely hadn’t expected her little show to end like that.
(…)
“Y/N, say something. You’re being way too quiet, and you’re starting to worry me.” Lando rested his hand on my thigh, gently massaging it.
We had arrived at Lando’s apartment five minutes ago, and I still hadn’t fully come out of the state of shock my sister’s confrontation had left me in.
“It’s just… I…” I let out a shaky sob.
Lando’s face twisted as though seeing me like this physically hurt him.
“Shh, shh. Easy, baby.” He kissed the top of my head several times while holding me close. “Hey, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. The ones who should feel ashamed are your family for treating you so inhumanely. You were just a little girl. It’s cruel that you had to carry the weight of not fitting beauty standards when you were that innocent.”
Lando’s words felt like a warm embrace around my bruised heart.
“I love you so much, sweetheart.” He pressed more kisses into my hair as my sobs only grew stronger. “Come on, don’t cry anymore. I don’t want your eyes getting swollen. They’re too pretty.”
“Lando… why do they hate me so much?”
Before Lando could answer, the sound of my phone ringing cut through the room.
We both looked toward it, and I felt my stomach drop.
Mom.
I wasn’t ready to face her.
But Lando, clearly determined to end this nightmare once and for all, picked up the phone, put it on speaker, and handed it to me.
“Hello?” My voice came out barely above a whisper.
“You ungrateful little bitch. How could you do something like this to your sister?” My mother’s voice exploded through the speaker, full of rage.
“Mom, I—”
I couldn’t even finish before she launched at me again.
“Never in my life did I think I’d end up raising enemies under the same roof. Your heart is rotten, and I’ve always known it. End whatever the hell you have going on with that man right now and get on your knees to apologize to your sister. It’s the very least you can do. I always knew you’d turn out exactly like your worthless father, a shameless wh—”
Lando snatched the phone from my hand before she could finish. He turned off the speaker and pressed the phone against his ear.
“Your daughter isn’t going to do a fucking shit, and you can go fuck yourself.”
Without another word, he hung up.
Then he powered off my phone completely and tossed it onto the couch.
I stared at him with my mouth hanging open.
The sheer shock of what had just happened made me burst into laughter even as tears continued streaming down my face.
What the actual fuck had just happened?
“Are you okay?” Lando looked at me with an expression caught somewhere between concern and amusement.
“Yeah, it’s just… I never thought I’d see you like that.”
“Neither did I. But I think we both have the right to lose our minds a little after everything that just happened.”
I stared at him while he reached over to wipe away my tears.
“I love you, Lando,” I finally confessed.
“And I love you more, sweetheart.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. “Now come on. Let’s go get your things. You’re never going back there.”
The next day, we flew to the Maldives to forget about everything and everyone.
At least for a few days.
I still felt emotionally drained and had little desire to do much of anything, but Lando encouraged me to go out and explore with him. We ended up scuba diving and riding around on the hotel’s bicycles.
Very Pinterest-worthy.
That afternoon, we sat together watching the sunset by the shore.
I was sitting between his legs, my back pressed against his chest while his arms wrapped around me.
“What would you think about living in Monaco?” he asked after a long silence.
I lifted an eyebrow.
“Lando Norris, are you asking me to move in with you?” I teased.
“Yes. Why not?” he replied simply. “I want you all to myself. I want to have you beside me all the time.”
“Are you serious?” I pulled away from his arms and turned to face him.
“When have I ever not been serious with you?” He leaned back against his hands casually.
“It’s just… I don’t know. I have a life in London. I have my job there too.” I tried to come up with more reasons why I should stay, but I couldn’t find many. I no longer had a family there, and I could always visit Jack whenever I wanted.
“You can find a better job. Or not work at all if that’s what you want. I’ll take care of you.”
“You say it like it’s that easy,” I muttered.
“Because it is. With me, you never have to fight to earn anything. I’ll give it to you without thinking twice.”
The seriousness in both his voice and expression made my chest tighten.
“Okay… so we move in together, and then what?” I asked lightly, not expecting the answer that came next.
“We get married.”
He said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Lando…” I was left completely speechless.
“After the season ends,” he continued calmly. “I love you, and I don’t want to waste time. I want us to become one.”
“You can’t possibly be serious.”
(…)
He was serious.
Very serious.
Now I stood alone in a room, reflecting on what my life had become over the past year.
It was December again.
But not the same December.
This one carried a different kind of sadness.
I looked at myself in the mirror once more, and the woman staring back at me felt like a complete stranger. My old insecurities no longer haunted me the way they once had.
Now it was different emotions tearing me apart.
I carefully examined my appearance one last time.
The white dress flowed around my body in a fluid, asymmetrical silhouette. A single draped strap wrapped delicately over one shoulder while layers of semi-transparent chiffon sculpted my figure almost like art, emphasizing the crossing fabric at my waist. A slit along the skirt revealed flashes of my leg as I walked, extending into a soft train that brushed the floor behind me.
On my feet were beautiful pearl-white heels that were surprisingly comfortable.
My hair was styled into a classic low bun, covered by a veil made of sheer, weightless tulle that floated softly around me. The dramatic scalloped trim was embroidered with silver embellishments, translucent bugle beads, and shimmering crystals shaped like delicate organic patterns, almost like a halo resting above my head.
In my hands, I held a compact bouquet of white peonies tied tightly with satin ribbon.
And on my ring finger rested a piece of jewelry that caught the light with every slight movement of my hand. An oval-cut champagne diamond surrounded on each side by two delicate pear-cut diamonds, all perfectly set on a yellow gold band.
The ring Lando Norris had given me the moment we arrived in Monaco.
So yes.
As you can probably imagine…
Today was my wedding day.
And all I could feel was sadness.
Sadness because only two people were here with me today: my grandfather—whom I invited under the condition that he wouldn’t tell the rest of the family—and Jack, who honestly counted as both Lando’s guest and mine.
Sadness because I was about to marry a man who deserved far better than a life with someone like me.
Sadness because after a painful amount of introspection, I realized my mother had been right about one thing.
My heart was not pure.
And even knowing that, I was still going to give it to someone who expected to find innocence in it.
My thoughts never cleared, and carrying the full weight of my emotions, I walked toward the altar.
Alone.
Because even though my grandfather was there, I had decided that was how I wanted it.
Lando waited for me at the altar in a custom-tailored suit made specifically for the occasion. His smile was radiant, his eyes shining with excitement the moment he saw me.
The ceremony started.
And the priest’s words struck something so deep inside my chest, that for a brief moment, I questioned whether this was truly what I wanted.
Maybe I should let him go.
Maybe he deserved a life with someone who could genuinely make him happy.
But the thought alone nearly brought me to tears.
The mere idea of losing him felt unbearable.
I wasn’t perfect.
But I was willing to spend the rest of my life trying to become worthy of the love of someone who, for the first time ever, loved me without conditions.
“…Y/N?”
I lifted my gaze and found the priest staring at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.
Snippet: This is bizarre. But then again, which part of you and Oscar ever make sense? None.
Part 7 of 'Let It Left' series
You didn't say straight yes.
But a smile still appears on Oscar's face when you say, "we can try."
That's enough. That's one big step to start.
⊹₊⟡⋆
However, changes, big or small, would always feel strange at first.
You almost run away from the pantry the moment you see Oscar there.
Making coffee in the morning like every other normal person around the world.
Then you remembered you talked with him in Miami. Two days have passed since then.
His face lights up when he sees you. "Morning."
"Morning." You approached the coffee machine.
Both of you stand in silence. You decided to watch the coffee drips. It was always like this with him. Silence. The familiar feeling slowly seeps into your body, recognizing something that used to be what you love.
"Oscar." You call him.
"Hmm?"
"Can you move? The coffee has stopped dripping already."
His eyes leave your face, turning his vision forward. A pink flush appears on his cheek. "Oh—oh, yeah. Sorry, I didn't realize that."
He grabs his cup and stops at the entryway before walking somewhere. "Have a goo—good day." He stutters.
You chuckle after he leaves, but rethink that scene again.
It's getting real. Are you ready for this?
⊹₊⟡⋆
You used to believe breaks between races meant the staff got to rest.
NO. WRONG. VERY WRONG.
Everyone keeps working hard during the long break between Suzuka and Miami. Drivers with their simulators, staff with their thing. Well, the drivers might be having one or two days off, but you're too busy to notice that. A month fleets so fast, there's always something to work on every day.
Then there's a shorter break between Miami and Canada. You never thought the workload would be crazier than it already is. Expectations are also raised because McLaren got a double podium last time.
The target is now to make it P1.
You don't know how many brainstorming sessions are left until your head explodes. McLaren wants to bring a lot of upgrades in Canada. Samuel said there would be a workshop with the other side of the garage too tomorrow.
God help you. You're just an overcaffeinated intern with too many ideas in your head.
The workshop part is real. It's happening. McLaren got a hall big enough for 50 engineers to sit down and discuss. You're about to squeeze your brain to its maximum potential 5 hours before lunch.
What a horror experience.
It's almost 11.00 a.m. when Lando and Oscar enter the room. You didn't care anymore. All you thought was how to optimize the aerodynamics, compressions, battery mechanisms, ... did you mention aerodynamics already? Yeah. Aerodynamics.
"Hey, guys!" Lando approaches your group with Oscar, joining to sit between the staff.
You're halfway scrabbling the moment Oscar takes a space beside you, muttering "Uhh... You don't feel cold in this corner?"
You lift your head to meet his gaze. The hoodie is warm enough on your body, but your legs are freezing as well. That's because you sit under the AC, the only space left and you are actually grateful because you can always bump your head to the wall every 30 minutes. "I'm fine. I wear a thick hoodie."
Oscar didn't answer. He takes off his hoodie and lets it sit between you and him.
"You hate it when your legs are cold."
Sure. Of course he still remembers that. Sure, he remembers the times he draped his hoodie over your legs.
You're about to push the hoodie back to him, but he already walks away to another group.
His hoodie, papaya hoodie, is warm with the heat left from his body, smelled of cinnamon mixed with musky scent this time. You let it drape over your legs while finishing a front wing sketch. Familiar. You do this a hundred times before.
Everyone takes a big exhale as the workshop ends. The development team notes each idea from every group. You stretch your body before receiving a lunch box, silently eat, and exit the hall when you're done.
Oscar stands in front of the hall entrance. You put forth his hoodie whispering, "thank you."
His hand stopped mid-air.
"Is it too obvious if I don't want to take it so I can meet you again?"
Fine. A very normal sentence from a friend on a Wednesday afternoon.
"You're ridiculous. I will work here tomorrow too." You shove it to his chest, making sure he takes his hoodie.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow." Oscar left with a grin, holding his arms up.
You blink your eyes, look at his hoodie on your hand, and decide to put it in your drawer.
⊹₊⟡⋆
You never knew that was the beginning of a hoodie saga.
Oscar Piastri will stand in front of your workspace first thing in the morning to swap yesterday's hoodie on your hand to the hoodie he is wearing right now, soft and warm and always with his cinnamon musky scent.
That's it. That's your interaction of the day these 9 days. Then almost nothing for the rest of the day. He will hop onto the sim, media duties, sponsorship events, or every other possible thing he has to do and come back the next morning. You will get back to work and drape his hoodie on your legs if they feel cold.
You tried really hard so he didn't give you another hoodie anymore, but he insists that you need it or just lay it on your shoulder and walk away.
“Please, take this as my peace offering.” He said with those eyes. Those puppy eyes you can never resist.
This is bizarre. But then again, which part of you and Oscar ever make sense? None.
You must admit it is effective. Whatever this is he's trying to do. He planted a sense of familiarity in you. You stopped trembling around him. You breathe easier, your shoulders relaxed, sometimes capable of cracking a conversation.
You find yourself staring at the door, gripping his black hoodie. Still warm from his body heat. He will catch a flight to Canada today, so he won't be able to do a hoodie exchange for 4 days … or more.
You let yourself, for this once, sniff on his hoodie longer. Draping it along your shoulders.
you thought you were happy with your boyfriend but when things start falling apart, lando and oscar give you a soft place to land.
note: this one is a monster, i hope you guys enjoy it! i had to restart it like three times before getting it right. obligatory i don't speak spanish disclaimer lol
warnings : established relationship landoscar, lando and reader are lowkey exes, reader's bf is an asshole, gaslighting, swearing, implied/referenced sex
fc: begoña vargas
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: go williams 💙🏁
view all comments:
lando: What about mclaren?
⤷yn.sainz: eh, orange isn’t really my color
⤷lando: Its papaya!!
carlossainz55: Why do I look so scared
⤷lando: Mate thats just your face
victorreyes: ❤️
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: monaco baby 🇲🇨 thank you @.oscarpiastri for showing me around
view all comments:
carlossainz55: You come to the country I live in and do not even visit me. Do you not love your big brother?
⤷yn.sainz: you’re so annoying 😭
oscarpiastri: Happy to be your tour guide
liked by author
victorreyes: Seriously?
comment deleted by author
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: feliz cumpleaños a mí 🥳
view all comments:
lando: Happy birthday pretty girl
oscarpiastri: Happy birthday Yn ❤️
user: not oscar and lando being invited to her family birthday dinner but her actual bf is nowhere to be found lmao
user: MY CARLANDOOOO
user: hbd!!!
victorreyes: You didn’t tell me he was going to be there 🙄
comment deleted by author
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: 🍜🍤🍚
view all comments:
oscarpiastri: I didn’t know Lando could open his mouth that wide 🤣
⤷user: you know damn well…
lando: ❤️❤️
user: shes been spending so much time with lando and oscar lately 🤔
⤷user: with her bf mia 😒😒
⤷user: She better not be trying to steal lando from oscar, she already had her chance!!
⤷user: bro relax they’re probably just friends. none of our business anyway!
view story replies:
user: posting your boyfriend and your girlfriend LOL i see you lando
user: CUTE i love this friendship
user: ugh can she go away??
view story replies:
victorreyes: Why didnt you tell me Lando would be coming
↳yn.sainz: why does it matter victor? my parents invited him
↳victorreyes: You know I dont like how much time you two spend together!
↳yn.sainz: i’m not doing this right now, i’m going to enjoy my family vacation.
↳victorreyes: We’ll talk about this later.
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: thank god i had someone else who hates golf with me on this trip 😭
view all comments:
user: Now landoscar are being invited to sainz family vacations? what is going on??
⤷user: idk but i’m obsessed with it
user: imagine getting to be the filling in a landoscar sandwich
⤷user: dude why do you have to say it like that 😭😭 like you’re not wrong but…
⤷user: let me speak my truth!
view story replies:
yn.sainz: it’s so pretty here!
oscarpiastri: Yeah I was definitely talking about the scenery
yn.sainz: ?
oscarpiastri: Don’t worry about it lol
view story replies:
lando: No one is stopping you from joining in 😏
yn.sainz: you’re ridiculous
yn.sainz: i’m sure both of our boyfriends wouldn’t be happy lol
lando: You never know 🤷♂️
view story replies:
↳lando: Wtf where was my invite?
↳yn.sainz: aren't you busy golfing?
↳carlossainzofficial: Cuídate, hija.
↳yn.sainz: yes papá ❤️
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: getting away from it all 🐟
view all comments:
rebeccadonaldson: lovely little weekend with you 🤍
yn.sainz: thank you for keeping me distracted <3
user: anyone else notice yn hasn’t posted or mentioned her boyfriend in a while?
⤷user: i noticed she unfollowed him a few weeks ago, i’m guessing they broke up 🤷♀️
lando: Pretty
liked by author
oscarpiastri: Beautiful
liked by author
user: was gonna ask if lando and oscar are looking for a third but i think they’ve found one 😂😂
view story replies:
yn.sainz: i’m not going to take him from you lando, don’t worry
lando: Im okay with sharing if its with you
yn.sainz: funny.
lando: You dont think im serious?
lando: Because i am
yn.sainz: sure you are
yn.sainz just posted
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yn.sainz: happy happy happy
view all comments:
user: is this a relationship confirmation???
liked by author
lando: What happens in Vegas…
⤷yn.sainz: stays between US 🙄
oscarpiastri: 💕
⤷yn.sainz: 🥰
carlossainz55: I am always right
⤷yn.sainz: shut up old man
⤷carlossainz55: Blocked.
Snippet: You never see Oscar Piastri this vulnerable.
Part 6 of 'Let It Left' series
Oscar knows he was, or still, a coward.
There are lots of things he kept to himself and himself alone. That never ended up well. Tonight just emphasizes that more since the man lost his composure far from the night reaching the end.
He knew well his last resort was to drown in champagne and hoped to have liquid courage.
Four glasses of it is enough to ease his mind. Enough to give him confidence. Oscar walk towards you and he did it. He finally grabbed your wrist. At the moment you're truly alone.
But the only thing coming out of his mouth is "Please."
Turns out, seeing your eyes up close open the vaults he locked for 10 years. There's too many things to say, too many things to apologize. Every moment they had flashes in front of his eyes, taking up every word he crafted weeks before. Reducing them to one word. One word for many pleas he doesn't know which one to begin.
Please don't go.
Please don't avoid me.
Please don't hate me.
Please, we need to talk.
⊹₊⟡⋆
"Please, Y/N..."
You never see Oscar Piastri this vulnerable. His hair mussed, shirt disheveled, completed by watery eyes and rosy cheeks. Those same eyes that used to look proud and soft to you, now look ... broken.
You don't know why you stay still. The lift is open, you can just walk in and forget this happened. You don't know why you listen to him. Where's the rage? Be mad or just ignore it.
Walk away right now! you repeat that in your brain, but your foot can't move any inch.
"I... I don't know where to start, but please... Please stay."
That's it. That's the word.
Stay.
He said that with trembling lips, eyes flickered everywhere, searching for any sign on your face.
That word was the one you were looking for from him all this time. Stay. If only he had reached out to you and said that years ago…
Your heart is still burning with ache when you open your mouth. "Okay."
Because frankly, you’re also tired of running away.
⊹₊⟡⋆
Oscar leads you to a speakeasy nearby. None of you speak until the bartender makes your order and turns away. A dimly lit lamp reflected very little on his face, hiding his rosy drunk cheeks. You sit next to him, shivering as you can sniff his chocolate perfume mixed with cold air.
Oscar takes a deep breath before breaking the silence. "Glad to see you work with McLaren."
You sip on your glass, trying to relax. "Glad to see you drive their F1 cars as well."
A glass of mocktail should freshen you up, but this awkward silence makes it really hard to savor any taste. Your fingers trace along the glass, busy with your own thoughts. You won't push anything tonight. You had your own battle in your mind.
"I'm sorry."
You turn your head to see him. Oscar. Oscar Piastri with his unguarded eyes.
He continues, "there are too many things I want to say to you. We haven't met since that British F4 grand final. I—we..." His words hang in the air.
"—we were both busy." You cut him. A tear escaped from a corner of your eye. You wiped it away immediately. You don't want to remember those times. Those nights you spent crying and questioning yourself. "Highschool was a busy time for me too. It's okay, Oscar. It's natural for a friendship drifting apart over time."
Lies. Lies. Lies. You can feel your throat burning.
"But why do you act like you don't know me at all?"
That leaves you stunned. You were sad, but you were angry as well for him leaving you that way. You even practiced to be strong enough if you ever meet him again.
"I don't know how to act." You squeeze your palm.
"We haven't met in 10 years. You're an F1 driver now. What kind of business do you want to have with an intern?" An inescapable bitter laugh coming out of your mouth.
"You know you mean so much more to me." His shoulder brushed your arms, sending buzz all over your body. He leans closer, trying to find the truth behind your eyes.
You backed away. "I don't know, Oscar. We never talked about this." You whisper low. He can't say that to you. Especially now. Especially when he left on a Sunday morning with promises he can't keep.
Oscar's body tenses. A guilt crept up to him. He never knew wounds caused upon his departure. He never knew the toll of a ‘drifting away friendship’. Oscar shook his head and spoke. "I also don't know how to react when I figure you're here and I'm the last person on earth to know."
He continues, "I'm still a coward as well, I need to chug champagne and let the courage talk to you."
"But I don't want to lose you again." His hand hangs in the air, wondering if he can touch your arm or pull you into a hug. He knows that won't happen any soon.
"Not after I searched for you everywhere."
His voice soft, almost breaks. “I know we can't pretend there's no 10 years lost between us.”
“But will you let me get to know you again?”
-
A/N: congratulations to my strongest soldiers (re:reader). you survived the cliffhangers <3
Lando Norris thoroughly scanned his eyes through Oscar Piastri.
"You, the person who loves your private space, eat lunch at MTC's canteen this three days. You came earlier and went home later. Now you're here, outside my engineers' meeting room, told people you wait for me, but when I ask you what is it, you just say, 'nah, forget it'?" Lando fold his arms.
Oscar scratches his head. "I really forgot, okay? It was wind tunnel or something ..."
"Sure. Very convincing. That's something you would ask me." Lando snarked. He brushed his hair with his fingers. "Let's go. We need to talk about this over wine or something. My treat."
Oscar shook his head hard as he saw you leave Lando's engineers' room through another door, already walking away. "Yea, that's nice. Talk to you later."
"What the fuck is wrong with you, mate?!" Lando throw his arms up air.
⊹₊⟡⋆
This wasn't as easy as Oscar thought. Sure, technically he can now see you. But what should he do now? What should he say when he approach you? What if you approach him first?
The boy even practiced in front of a mirror.
'Hi, I'm Oscar Piastri.'
'Hey'
'Hello, Y/N, I...'
"Okay. This is ridiculous." He stared at his own reflection at mirror. Even that piece of furniture will told him he look pathetic right now.
So he think about what to say to you while he's following you around at McLaren Technology Centre.
At a very proper distance.
Like, 2 meters minus 10 centimeters or sometimes 15.
For 1 week.
You obviously know he's looking at you. There is no other level of awkwardness can top this. Can you imagine? You ate your lunch and the man stare at you from a table two meters away, munching his own sandwich.
Or when you have to work from factory and he's busy with his own laptop at the lounge.
Or when you meet with Lando's engineers and he stand still in front of the room like a polite cat.
Now, this is the chaos you didn't sign up for.
You were shocked at first, of course. Never thought he would just show up ... everywhere, all at once.
You're also frustrated because he will only glance at you for 5 seconds max and go on with his day, unaware the effect he had on you.
You're also confused because this man will just sit there, looking at you like he had something to tell, write at a small notebook with worn-out cover, but then shake his head.
What is that supposed to mean???
Glad that the exposure therapy is a great work on you. With his gradually increasing appearance, now you can function even when he's staring at you. Most of the time, you turn your head away so you can't see him, actually. You just hope this will be over when Miami comes. He's a driver. He should be super busy by then.
⊹₊⟡⋆
You take a deep breath when your feet land at Miami. This is it. Your first away engineering internship from McLaren.
The salty air and bright sun buzzed on your skin. Paddock circus can't be more sensational than it already is, media and celebrities and influencers and fans swarmed all over the area. You were glad you have definitive spot to sit or else you will stressing out to see thousands of people moving around.
If a staff like you already busy calculating superclipping and discussing tyre management, then you're sure the drivers are busier than you. Oscar won't follow you around. And you can only hope he will stay that way for at least the rest of your internship.
But girl, you're wrong.
Oscar Piastri tries even harder in Miami.
You get up and whispering you'll grab a cup of coffee to Samuel every time Oscar looks like he is about to come over (He actually did! How convenient since the drivers' garage aren't fully separated). It's been the third time, and you're sure Samuel is about to question your coffee intake.
You already avoid driver's room and every route possible from there to grab coffees from hospitality, but of course the space at McLaren's garage and hospitality weren't as generous as McLaren Technology Centre. also, Oscar Piastri suddenly had business to hang at the hospitality when he has his own very cozy driver room.
That's how your life goes for the last three days every second Oscar had no media or briefing obligations, by the way. Everything happened, crashing you in the middle of endless data analysis and brainstorming race strategies.
The first surge of relief you experienced that weekend is at the moment Lando crossed the finish line in P2 after fighting with Kimi Antonelli. Your stress melts away as the garage erupts with cheer for McLaren double podium. Oscar is P3.
You just had to be there, the celebration. Samuel pushed you to the front barricade, giving a clear view for every person stepping onto the podium. That's where you finally look at Oscar's eyes. Those brown eyes glimmer with happiness.
The memories of you watch his karting and British F4 surged. It was exactly like this, you stand from the side to cheer and watch him take the trophies. The same Oscar Piastri who you know stands proud wherever he's at with a shade of pink across his cheeks as a result from peak adrenaline.
Nothing much changed, you suppose.
⊹₊⟡⋆
It isn't Miami if there's no party.
Since McLaren got a double podium, throwing one would be mandatory. Everyone from the team filled a club at the hotel, releasing their remaining energy after a long day.
You sit in a quiet corner with three girls from marketing, watching everyone while sipping one or two drinks before slipping out. You're not a fan of wild crowds. No one will care much about your existence anyway.
You were waiting for the lift to open when you feel a hand circled your wrist.
"Please ..."
You know that voice too well.
You turn around to see the despair eyes of Oscar Piastri, probably slightly drunk. Those brown, proud and bright eyes you saw at the podium that afternoon now turn into a pair flickered between sadness, worry, curious, and desperate.
hi girly! Can you write something about Lando and his gf running into his last ex on an event or even a gp weekend what makes her very uncomfortable and jealous. He doesn't understand the problem at first and being too kind and a little idiot causing some relationships problems with his bubbly way to communicate with everyone
You’re Being Too Nice To The Wrong Person
Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader
Synopsis: Lando’s bubbly friendliness with his ex at a GP weekend leaves his girlfriend feeling invisible, jealous, and hurt — until he finally realises and chooses to reassure her completely.
You knew GP weekends were chaotic. You knew they were loud, crowded, overstimulating, and full of people who wanted a piece of Lando. You’d learned to live with that part — the fans, the cameras, the sponsors, the endless PR smiles.
What you hadn’t prepared for was running straight into her.
His last ex.
The one who’d been around long enough that half the paddock still treated her like she belonged there. The one who’d left him a mess for months. The one who made you feel like you were suddenly twelve years old again, standing next to the pretty, perfect girl who always got picked first.
You were walking through hospitality with Lando’s hand in yours, swinging lightly, his usual bubbly commentary filling the air as he pointed out some stupid meme on his phone. You were laughing — genuinely — until you heard a too-familiar voice.
“Lando?”
He froze. You froze. Your stomach dropped.
She looked exactly the same. Effortlessly gorgeous. Confident. Like she’d never had a bad day in her life.
And Lando — sweet, oblivious, sunshine‑in-human-form Lando — lit up like someone had plugged him into a socket.
“Oh my god, hey! It’s been ages!”
You felt his hand slip from yours so he could hug her.
Hug her.
You stared at the floor, heat crawling up your neck. You weren’t angry yet — just uncomfortable. Unsteady. Like the ground had tilted and you were the only one who noticed.
They started talking. Fast. Familiar. Too familiar.
“How’ve you been?”
“You look great!”
“Are you back in the paddock now?”
“No way, that’s so cool!”
He wasn’t flirting. You knew that. But he was being Lando — warm, friendly, too kind for his own good. And she was soaking it up, smiling like she’d never broken his heart.
You stood there like an idiot, hands clasped in front of you, invisible.
She finally glanced at you. “Oh — hi. You’re his…?”
“Girlfriend,” Lando said quickly, grabbing your waist. “This is my girlfriend.”
You smiled politely. She smiled politely. It was all polite.
But your chest was tight. Too tight.
When she walked away, Lando turned to you with that clueless grin.
“She looks different, right? I swear she changed her hair. That was so random seeing her here.”
You nodded, trying to breathe normally. “Yeah. Random.”
He didn’t notice the way your voice cracked. He didn’t notice the way you avoided his eyes. He didn’t notice anything.
Because he was still smiling.
---
The problem started small. Then it grew.
For the rest of the day, you were quiet. Not icy — just… muted. Off. Lando kept bouncing around, talking to engineers, joking with mechanics, waving at fans. Every time he came back to you, he’d kiss your cheek or wrap an arm around you, but he never slowed down long enough to see you.
And every time you passed someone who used to know her, they’d mention her.
“Oh, she’s here this weekend?”
“She stopped by earlier.”
“She said hi to the team.”
Each comment was a tiny needle.
By the time you were back in the driver room, you were sitting on the couch with your arms crossed, staring at the floor.
Lando finally noticed.
He dropped beside you, frowning. “Okay. Something’s wrong. What happened?”
You swallowed. “Nothing.”
“Y/n.” His voice softened. “Talk to me.”
You shook your head. “It’s stupid.”
“Then let me hear the stupid thing.”
You exhaled shakily. “I didn’t like seeing her.”
He blinked. “My ex?”
“Yeah.”
“But… why? I mean—” He laughed lightly, confused. “I was just being nice.”
“I know,” you said quickly. “I know you weren’t flirting. I know you didn’t mean anything. But you were so… happy to see her. And she was acting like she still had some claim on you. And I just—”
Your voice cracked.
“I felt like I didn’t belong next to you.”
Lando’s face fell instantly.
“Oh. Oh, baby.”
You looked away, embarrassed. “I told you it was stupid.”
He cupped your jaw gently, turning your face toward him. “It’s not stupid. It’s not even close.”
You blinked hard, trying not to cry.
“I didn’t realise,” he whispered. “I swear I didn’t. I was being an idiot.”
“You weren’t,” you murmured.
“I was,” he insisted. “I was being too nice. Too… me. And I didn’t think about how it would feel for you. I should’ve held your hand the whole time. I should’ve introduced you properly. I should’ve made it clear that you’re the one I’m with now.”
Your throat tightened.
He slid closer, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I don’t want anyone — especially her — making you feel small. Or insecure. Or like you’re second to anything in my life.”
You let out a shaky breath. “I just hated how she looked at you.”
“I hated how she looked at you,” he said softly. “Like she was trying to figure out why I’d moved on.”
You blinked. “You noticed that?”
“Oh, I noticed everything except the part where you were hurting.” He kissed your cheek. “And I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
You finally leaned into him, letting his arms wrap around you.
“I love you,” he murmured into your hair. “And I’m yours. Completely. Stupidly. Loudly. Annoyingly.”
You laughed wetly. “Annoyingly?”
“Very annoyingly. You’re stuck with me.”
You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to be stuck with you.”
His face fell — until you added:
“I want to choose you. Every day.”
His whole expression softened into something warm and earnest.
“Then choose me,” he whispered. “And I’ll spend every day proving you made the right choice.”
He kissed you — slow, grounding, full of apology and promise.
And when he pulled back, he added:
“If we see her again, I’m holding your hand so tight you’ll lose circulation.”
You snorted. “Lando.”
“I’m serious. I’ll drag you around like a toddler with a leash.”
You shoved him lightly, laughing for real this time.
He grinned, relief flooding his face.
“There she is,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “My girl.”
And for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.
june 2023 : you and lando have your first argument and the knife unexpectedly twists in ways you didn't even know was possible. now lando must face the consequences of hurting the person he loves most.
lando norris x f!reader ୨୧ word count : 3.4k ୨୧ warnings : heavy self-doubt, language, arguing, insecurities used against you, lando is a bit of a dick in this part ୨୧ notes : took me about two months of thinking, planning and then actually writing it, but i've had this idea since like... march lol so i hope you enjoy! if you do don't forget to comment / reblog! ୨୧ requested : yes
part of the lando's heart series. part two (coming soon).
you had a habit of overthinking. that much was very obvious to you. it's not like you meant to overthink things... it just kind of happened.
especially when it related to how people looked at you. not necessarily the people online, but the people you surround yourself with. friends, family, lando, and even the mclaren team. were you too loud? too obnoxious? just too much? always questioning in the back of your head if you're actually wanted.
but lando... he did a good job at assuring you that you're not too much even without asking. him always telling you he wants you with him. wants you around. wants you. and you never had to question your place next to lando.
which is why when he invited you to come with him to hangout with some of the other drivers and their girlfriends, you immediately agreed.
and the night starts off relaxed, drinks on the table, music playing low in the expensive, monaco lounge, and laughter that seemingly comes easy at first. you're sitting close to lando, tucked into his side, your leg brushing his under the table while his arm rests loosely behind you. it's normal. comfortable even.
you could still feel the slight buzz from the monaco grand prix that just happened, lando especially. the season definitely hasn't been the easiest so far for the british driver, but based on the results of every race so far... you can tell that its been like that for everyone.
"so, y/n," alexandra, charles' new girlfriend, says from next to you. you immediately look at the younger woman as she continues, "you've gone to a few races already, how have you managed to balance everything?"
"i just go when i can," you say lightly, not really thinking too hard on the answer. you've figured out in the last few months of dating lando that you never have to think hard when it comes to him. "thankfully fashion weeks are either early in the year or late in the year, so i can fit around his schedule mostly."
alexandra nods, a smile on her face like she's thinking about your answer. "must be a little chaotic, but i'm sure lando enjoys having you."
lando lets out a laugh then – not loud or even in a mean way – just... enough to make your heart just slightly heavy. "yeah," he says, shaking his head slightly, "she kind of just shows up."
you don't think lando realizes how that simple sentence lands completely wrong. you can feel your heart beating louder, heavier, but you don't react. just give a small smile that doesn't fill your cheeks out like it normally would.
you can hear some of the others at the table laugh – at what you're not sure, but the ugly feeling says you.
"lucky you," alex says from across the table as he raises his glass towards lando.
he shrugs before speaking, "yeah, i mean it works. she's pretty good at keeping herself busy."
you continue to smile because that's what you do. but it doesn't mean his words don't feel like they're burning into your skin. like you're some bag charm he can clip to his bag and carry around and take off whenever he pleases. your nails dig into your palms, ears burning, and chest feeling heavy.
like you're being told that maybe lando... doesn't want you as much as you thought he did. but you don't move despite how it's suddenly harder to breathe. instead, you save face – stay, talk, laugh when you're supposed to. like you're suddenly a part of a machine you want out of so badly now.
later, lando's hand finds your thigh at one point, giving it a light squeeze like he always does. like what he said earlier didn't just rip a hole in your chest.
like nothing's wrong.
and maybe he doesn't notice how after his words, you became a little quieter. nursing your drink the rest of the night and forcing laughs because if you don't you might burst into tears. your mind replays everything – not just tonight, but all the other times in the past with lando. maybe he didn't want you coming to so many races like you thought he did.
maybe he's annoyed that you tag along, that you spend maybe a little too much time with him here in monaco or london. that he doesn't really want you to stay when he begs you to cancel your plane so he can spend more time with you.
maybe he really doesn't notice.
by the time you get back to his apartment, your body feels heavy. hands shaking just enough for you to notice, and you're hoping that once the door closes – it'll all go away.
it doesn't.
if anything it feels like crashing down over you in waves. like you're stuck in the ocean with no raft and the waves keep dragging you down, down, down. you carefully slip your shoes off, setting your bag down, and trying your best to not think about it all.
it's not that deep, you tell yourself. eyes looking over to find lando already moving around the space. grabbing something from the kitchen, still clearly at ease from the night. you find yourself watching him, wondering if he's just a really good liar.
"can we talk?" your mouth moves before your brain, and you notice lando pauses at the kitchen island. his hazel eyes meeting yours with a curious glint.
"sure." he says casually. you pause for a moment, wondering if this is really a good idea, but... you know you'll keep thinking about it if you don't.
"what you said earlier..." you trail off, taking a careful step into the kitchen. the floor is cold against your feet and your hands clench the fabric of your dress tightly. you can only imagine the wrinkles that will be there later. "you didn't have to say it like that," you tell him, voice a lot softer than it was. insecurities cracking through the surface.
lando leans against the counter, brows pulling together – clearly confused by what you're saying, "like what?"
you're already second-guessing yourself. "the way... you said that i just... 'show up'," you say finally. "it made it sound like i don't have anything else... like, going on. that i'm just some accessory for you to carry around."
he exhales through his nose, shoulders a little tense, "that's not what i meant," he says rather quickly after.
"i know," you reply, nodding slightly, "but i'm just telling you how it came across."
there's a pause that settles between the two of you. just enough to make your heart stutter and your stomach twist. you can feel your hands still shaking as you watch him cross his arms.
"it was a joke."
"i'm not saying it wasn't– i just–
"then why are we talking about it?" he cuts you off firmly.
you can't find yourself to look into his eyes anymore. everything swirling in your brain goes into overdrive as you listen to how tense and defensive his tone is getting. the shift around you both changes into something sharp.
you blink, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you think. "because it bothered me," you confess, quieter now.
he lets out a short laugh, one you recognize as more frustration than anything else. "it wasn't that deep, y/n."
your chest tightens even more, like its being stabbed repeatedly, "it felt like it was."
"yeah, well, not everything has to turn into a thing," he bites back, hand running through his hair.
you feel yourself go still, heart pounding in both your ears and stomach. a burning sensation moving through you and it makes you feel extremely uncomfortable in your own skin. like he's slowly confirming everything you were worried about.
"i'm... i'm not turning it into a thing," you say cautiously, trying not to let your voice break. don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. "i just wanted to tell you–
"and i'm telling you i didn't mean it like that," he interrupts, again. "what else do you want me to say?"
you finally look up at him – taking in his defensive stance, like you're his rival that he's about to race against. not his girlfriend who is clearly hurt by his words.
"i just wanted you– you to understand why it didn't feel good. especially when it comes from you." you admit, because if it was anyone else then you don't think it would bother you as much. but it wasn't anyone else, it was lando.
he exhales sharply, head tipping back slightly as he begins to pace once. "i'm under a lot right now," he says, tension practically bleeding through his voice. "i can't keep having these conversations every time something comes out wrong."
your heart drops, eyes burning like your body now, "every time?" you repeat almost inaudible, but to yourself. he doesn't catch it, doesn't hear how this is all starting to sound.
"i don't have the energy to overanalyze every little thing i say," he continues. every little thing. don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. it hits exactly where it shouldn't – in your heart like a knife, craving into your skin. you can feel the room begin to shift, hot, legs trembling slightly.
you take a step back slightly, like his words are physically pushing you away. "that's not what this is," your voice is unsteady now.
he doesn't notice, "it kind of is," he replies, "you take one comment and suddenly it's this whole thing i have to fucking fix."
"i didn't ask you to fix it," you whisper.
"what do you want from me then?" he asks, frustration spilling over and it's now is making you regret bringing this up.
and like he is also regretting you.
so you don't answer right away because suddenly you feel like nothing you say will be right for him. like he'll twist anything you say to him. but then you decide to speak, "i just wanted you to hear me."
"i am hearing you," he says it too fast, too defensively. like he's arguing about some penalty with the stewards.
"no– you're not, lando," you shake your head, "you're just trying to shut it down."
"i'm trying not to make it bigger than it is," he snaps, his words like a rubber band snapping into you.
"it feels fucking big to me."
"that's the fucking problem," he fires back, "everything feels big to you."
silence. that one lands extra hard. a little too close to your insecurities that he knows hurts you. you stare at him, not able to hide the hurt that crosses your face before you can even think of hiding it. "...what does that mean?"
he exhales again, tense and frustrated – at you – already too far in to stop, but he doesn't realize it yet. realize that he's starting to cross a line that he won't be able to uncross. "it means i can't keep walking on eggshells every time i say something! it's fucking exhausting!" your throat tightens as he continues, "i don't have time to always sit here and unpack every little feeling you have. i have more important things to worry about than."
there it was again – every little feeling.
"i never asked you to do any of that," voice trembling now, not able to stop the feeling of your whole body going with it.
don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"no, but that's exactly what it feels like," he replies.
at this point, you're sure that ripping your heart out would be less painful than this conversation. you feel something in you crack, and before you can stop yourself– you laugh.
soft and hollow before you murmur out, "right."
he frowns slightly, "don't–
"no, it's fine," you say quickly, hand waving in the air as your eyes start to glass over. "i– i get it."
"that's not what i'm saying–
"but it is," you cut him off this time, shaking your head. maybe he's starting to slowly realize what he's saying, but it's too late. "you're saying it's too much."
"i didn't say that."
"you didn't have to, lando." you whisper before a long, heavy silence settles between you. you finally turn away from him, because you know you'll cry in front of him if you don't. "i shouldn't have said anything in the first place. you're right– it's not that deep."
he runs a hand through his hair again, taking a step closer to you even though you don't see it. but you can hear it, one step forward, pause, before taking another one back.
"that's not fair," he suddenly mutters out.
"what's not fair?"
"that you're just shutting down like this because you don't like how the conversation is going."
your breath catches, "i'm not shutting down. i'm hurt."
"and i'm frustrated," he shoots back.
"i can tell."
there's another pause, tighter this time before he finally says, "if you're going to take everything this personally, i don't know how you expect this to work."
his words echo and for a second you genuinely don't react – like your brain hasn't fully caught up to what he's said. then it hits. and it feels like the floor has been pulled out from under you. you want to look at him, to say something, but no words come out.
because, you realize, this wasn't just frustration. this wasn't just a bad argument. this was him clearly questioning you. questioning everything between the two of you.
"o-okay," you finally say because that's the only thing that will come out of your mouth in this moment. but it barely comes out above a whisper.
lando hears how your voice is quitting on you, and his expression changes immediately. almost like it's finally clicking what he just said. what he just did.
"w-wait– i didn't mean–
you shake your head quickly, the action cutting him off. "no," you say, voice cracking and breath stuttering as you talk, "you did."
don't cry, don't cry, don–
a tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. you wipe it away almost immediately, thankfully that you're not looking towards lando so he can't see you cry.
"i think i just need some space," you add, quieter now.
you hear lando let out an exhale, frustrated still, but not at you anymore. at himself. at the situation. "i leave for madrid in the morning," he says, like that will somehow fix this whole thing.
you nod, "i know," of course you know – you were supposed to go with him, but now... now you aren't sure. "that means you should get some rest, lan."
lando hesitates at the nickname, even when you're upset, you'll still call him that, "lets talk abou–
"good night, lan," you tell him quietly before finally willing yourself to walk away. legs trembling and hands shaking as you move through the apartment as instead of going towards lando's bedroom like you always do – you go to the guest bedroom instead.
you shut the door behind you and that's when you finally allow yourself to cry. tears streaming down your face, breath hitching, and chest tightening as you slide down against the door. your mind swirling into so many directions before finally settling on the one thing you hated to realize.
you are too much, even for lando, who drives at 300 kph thinks you're too much. maybe this is finally making him realize how he regrets asking you out or talking to you at the karting place in london. that you were a mistake to him completely.
you don't know how long you sit on the floor, crying until the tears finally stop. but that's when you're finally getting up and crawling into the bed. it doesn't smell like him. just... generic laundry detergent and nothing else. you don't remember falling asleep – you assume the exhaustion from the argument wore you out.
but you do remember waking up slightly when you hear the door creak open, floorboards shifting under the weight and you can just barely recognize it as lando. the bed dips behind you before you're feeling lando's arms wrap around you. the faint smell of his body wash fills your sleep-hazed sense. you hate how even the smell of him comforts you right now.
"i'm so sorry," he murmurs out suddenly. his forehead resting against your shoulder blade. "please don't leave before i can fix this," he adds, and you assume he thinks you're still asleep.
however, you quickly let sleep consume you again. falling asleep with lando next you, his arms around you, but your heart still heavy.
when you wake up the next morning, you are greeted with a slight throbbing pain in your head. you're still in last night's dress, and everything slowly comes back to you. like some nightmare turning into reality. too much. every little feeling. lando's words echo in your brain and pounding around like the throbbing in your head.
it's when you sit up that you realize you're alone in bed. you assume lando got up to get ready for his flight. the ache in your heart still heavy as you realize that there's a good chance that he could have already left... without you. so you get up, making your way into the bathroom to freshen up before finally changing out of your dress into something more comfortable.
you enter the living area and you're surprised to see lando still here. eyes drifting to the door to see his suitcase there and waiting. he must be getting ready to leave. when he looks up from his phone, you notice his posture straightens up a little.
"hey..." he says softly, hand running through his hair, "morning."
"morning," you say softly, "don't you need to be heading to the airport?"
you notice he pauses for a moment, eyes darting from you to his phone before going back to you. "come with me," he says suddenly, taking a step closer towards you. "i know you said you wanted space, but... i can't let that happen. let's talk on the plane, or even at the hotel! just– just don't stay here like this."
you look at him, a part of you still hurts from what he said last night. what he made you feel. a part of you still wants to say yes, but the way his words still echo in your mind.
"i can't," you say softly.
you watch his shoulders drop, brows pulling together like he's trying to understand, "why?"
"because i'm still hurt, lando," you admit. "sleeping isn't going to change that." and your words seem to make him pause. "and i don't want to sit next to you pretending i'm okay when... when i'm not."
"i don't want you to pretend."
"i know, but i need a little time. just... a bit." the silence that follows is completely unbearable to you – and probably him. then you watch him nod, once.
"okay..." he manages out, but it feels like everything but okay. he's then grabbing his carry-on, moving around like he's on auto-pilot as you watch him. he makes his way over to door before stopping. dropping his bag, he turns and makes his way back to you.
you watch him hesitate for a split second before his hands come up to your face. holding you like he's afraid you might break. which honestly... isn't far from how you still feel. and then he's leaning in to kiss you. its soft, lingering, apologetic without words. like he wants you to tell you something without saying it – like even lando hasn't figured out what he wants to say yet.
"if you change your mind..." he trails off, forehead brushing yours as his nose bumps against yours, "just call me, yeah?"
you nod, even though your chest feels too tight, "i will."
there's a small beat, "i love you," he says and you can tell it sounds different from all the other times before. quieter, filled with guilt.
"i love you, too," you whisper and he's pressing one last kiss to your lips before he's finally moving away. and this time he leaves, letting the door close behind him.
you think the silence that comes with him leaving is just as loud as anything he said. because now you're left with your thoughts. left with replaying last night over and over and over again, and no matter how you try to soften it... his words still land like you're being stabbed.
and they sit there – heavy and unmoving as the tears come back and you let them run down your cheeks, your chin before you're wiping them away with your sleeve. head throbbing with his voice–
"i don't know how you expect this to work."
and you aren't fully sure if that's something you'll know how to come back from.
