solène

she/her 19

[landonorissian]

lando after going fastest in fp3 in hungary

[piastrocious]

LANDOOOO ON POLE !!!!

[lvrealils]

HEAD OVER HEELS ✦ habits

ⓘ their small habits they don’t notice, but you do.

feat. lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, max verstappen ⨾ est. relationship, fluff, 1.5k wc ノ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

LANDO NORRIS . ˚ You didn’t even realize how often Lando did it.

How naturally he included you in things that hadn’t even happened yet.

It started with a conversation that had nothing to do with you.

Max and Pietra were talking about houses, casually discussing where they’d want to live one day. The kind of conversation people had when they weren’t talking about next month, but years from now.

“A place away from everything would be nice,” Max said. “Somewhere quiet.”

Lando nodded, thinking for a moment.

“Yeah, actually, I think when I retire and marry Y/n, I’m gonna buy a house for us somewhere on the French coast..”

You looked up from your phone.

Not because he said your name.

But because he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not really in Monaco,” he continued, completely unaware that everyone was listening. “I mean, I love Monaco, but I don’t know. I’d want our kids to grow up somewhere quieter.”

Your eyebrows lifted.

“Our kids?”

Lando glanced at you, confused.

“What?”

“You’re already planning children?”

He shrugged, looking at you with genuinely confused look.

“Of course!”

Then he looked back at Max.

“But it depends on what Y/n wants, obviously. It’s not just my decision. Maybe she wants something completely different.”

And somehow, that made it even worse.

Because he wasn’t joking.

He wasn’t trying to sound romantic.

He was genuinely just talking about a future where you were already there.

“Man, I’m so excited to have kids,” he added with a laugh. “Actually, maybe I should retire right now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

Later that night, when you were alone, you finally brought it up.

“Do you realize you do that?”

Lando looked at you.

“Do what?”

“You talk about the future like it’s already guaranteed.”

He frowned slightly.

“I do?”

“Yes. The house. The kids. Marriage. You say things like they’re already happening.”

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“And it isn’t guaranteed?”

You looked at him.

“I mean… yes, I really hope so, but what if we break up?”

The smile disappeared immediately.

“Nope.”

You laughed.

“Nope?”

“Not happening.”

“Lando—”

“I’m never letting you go.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a threat?”

He thought about it for a second.

“Kind of. Yes.”

You laughed.

“I’d lock you in the basement if needed.”

“Lando!”

“What? I’m just saying I have options.”

You shook your head, still laughing.

But secretly?

You loved it.

Because Lando didn’t talk about a future with you because he was trying to convince himself it would happen.

He did it because, in his mind, there was never a version where you weren’t in it.

OSCAR PIASTRI . ˚ Oscar was usually the calm one.

The organized one.

The person who had everything planned before anyone else even realized there was something to plan.

Which was why you were slightly concerned when he was running around the apartment like he had forgotten how leaving the house worked.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes,” you reminded him.

“I know.”

“You’re still not ready.”

“I am ready.”

You looked at him.

He was standing in the middle of the room, looking around like he was trying to remember what humans normally took with them when they left.

You smiled. “Are you sure?”

Oscar ignored that.

“Do you have everything?”

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yes.”

He started counting on his fingers.

“Enough clothes? Shoes?”

“Yes, Oscar.”

“Your charger?”

“Yes.”

“Sunglasses?”

“Yes.”

He pointed at you.

“Good. Because we are not buying you another pair, baby.”

You laughed.

“It happened one time. Don’t be dramatic.”

“A very expensive one time,” he reminded you.

It was the one time you had accidentally lost your only pair of sunglasses in the paddock, and Oscar had insisted on buying you a new pair.

Of course, he then spent the entire day complaining about how much they cost.

You shook your head, amused.

Then you looked at him.

“Okay, but do you have everything?”

Oscar paused.

You immediately noticed.

“Everything you need for a triple header? Passport? Wallet? Team stuff? Everything you need to actually start a race?”

“Yes.”

The answer came too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Oscar.”

“Yes?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

He said it very calmly.

Which somehow made it less convincing.

You watched as he grabbed his bag and started checking through it.

A few seconds later, he stopped.

The silence said everything.

You crossed your arms.

“What?”

Oscar looked up.

“I might have forgotten something.”

You smiled.

“Let me guess.”

He sighed.

“My paddock pass.”

You couldn’t help laughing.

The one thing he actually needed. The one thing that would make starting the weekend slightly difficult. You reached into your own bag and pulled it out.

His eyes widened.

“When did you get that?”

“When you left it on the counter five minutes ago.”

Oscar took it from you, shaking his head.

“You packed it?”

“Yeah.”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“That’s why I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

Because that was Oscar.

He spent so much time making sure you had everything you needed that sometimes he forgot to check if he had everything himself.

And somehow, without either of you realizing it, you had started doing the same for him.

CHARLES LECLERC . ˚ It wasn’t something Charles announced or even seemed aware of.

It was just… something he did.

Every single time you walked together.

The moment you stepped onto the sidewalk, his hand would gently find yours as he guided you to the inside, taking the side closest to the road without saying a word.

The first few times, you assumed it was a coincidence.

Until one afternoon, when you deliberately switched sides.

Not even five seconds later, Charles quietly guided you back.

You looked at him.

“Charles.”

“Hm?”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“You always make me walk on the inside.”

He glanced at where you were standing before looking back at you.

“…Yeah?”

“Why?”

He frowned slightly, genuinely confused by the question.

“So you’re farther away from the cars.”

You smiled.

“I know, but… why?”

Charles shrugged.

“I don’t know. In case something happens and you don’t end up under a car.”

You looked at him for a second, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

Aww.

“That’s so cute.”

He tilted his head.

“Isn’t that normal?”

You laughed.

“No.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, Charles.”

He looked genuinely surprised.

“I thought everyone did that.”

You shook your head, trying not to laugh.

“No, that’s just you.”

He was quiet for a moment before giving a small shrug, as if he still didn’t quite understand why it was worth talking about.

“But,” you said, slipping your hand into his, “it’s very gentlemanly of you.”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“Well… good.”

And just like that, without thinking about it, he gently switched places with you again the next time you crossed the street. It was simply what he did.

What he always would do.

MAX VERSTAPPEN . ˚

Being with Max meant getting used to time zones.

Some weekends, he was halfway across the world while you were still at home in Monaco, trying to remember what country he was in that week.

This weekend, it was Baku.

Max knew about your plans. He always did. You had the habit of telling him everything, especially when he was away. Earlier that day, you told him you were going out with the girls.

His reply was simple.

Okay. Have fun.

And that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

Or so you thought.

By the time you got home, it was well after midnight. Your feet hurt, your makeup was smudged, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed.

You had barely kicked off your heels when your phone started ringing.

Max

A small smile spread across your face before you even answered. “Max?”

His voice was sleepy, rough around the edges.

“Hey, schat. You home?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “I just took off my shoes.”

You could practically hear him smile through the phone.

“Good.”

A small pause followed.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assured him softly.

Then you did the math. It was three in the morning in Baku.

“Max…” you said quietly. “You have a race tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“I know.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

“Then why did you call?”

He sounded genuinely confused.

“To make sure you got home.”

Your chest tightened.

“You could’ve just texted.”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

You smiled, your heart warming instantly.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, schat.”

“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

“I’ll survive.”

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, smiling at the ceiling.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For checking on me.”

Max was quiet for a moment.

“I always will.”

And somehow, you believed him without a second thought.

No matter what country he was in. No matter what time it was. If you were out, Max would always make sure you got home safely. Every single time.

© 𝐋𝐕𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐒 ：𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔. all works are my own. do not copy, translate, repost my works on any platform. requests are closed.

[piastrocious]

lore accurate

[kattheogcat]

Something Like This

Set in the Bestie Au

Pairing — Lando Norris x afab!Reader

Summary — A casual hang out takes a very quick turn once you arrive and an even bigger turn later on when things escalate into something you had never expected...

Genre — angst, fluff, best friends to lovers au

Wordcount — 3.0k

Warnings — language, idiots, MAGUI, tell me if i missed sumn else

Rating — NC-17

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©kattheogcat on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

2026

Every year the race at Silverstone was not just Lando racing at home, it also gave you the chance to be home and just enjoy to company of your family for a few days before going back to work. Every year you had made sure to combine it with a few days of vacation, giving you enough time to rest, spend time home and see Lando racing without having to cross half of the planet.

In 2026, you attended like you always did. Only this time it wad clad in Ferarri red, prancing horse emblem proudly sitting on your cap and running after a severely depressed Charles Leclerc after his season seemed to go just as fucked as Lando’s car was.

Your best friend had tried to hide his distaste, keyword being tried, but ultimately he frowned whenever he had to see you dressed in the other teams colors. Not accepting it even if it was simply in a professional setting and instead flicking your cap off your head to replace it with his own papaya one.

Charles had found it quite amusing, teasing the Champion mercilessly to the point you were scared for the Monegasque whenever Lando was behind him on the track.

And with Max and Pietra living close by, it was only a given that there was an obligatory hang out scheduled during that week.

Nothing could have ruined your mood that night, so you thought.

If only it wasn’t Magui opening the door for you as you arrived a bit later then Lando at the couples place.

Barely suppressing a noise stuck between horror and utter surprise you choked out a little, “hi!”, eyes blown wide before searching for help from Pietra who had appeared behind the actress.

“Y/n, it’ so nice to see you again!” the words were lied straight through her teeth, Magui not moving herself out of the door as if wanting to stop you from entering altogether.

Moving around the blond Portuguese, Pietra gently moved her out of the way to let you in. She wrapped her arms around you, having last seen you when in Monaco when she and Max had visited you and Lando for the weekend.

“I’m sorry y/n, we didn’t know Lando would bring her! Did you–?” she whispered into your ear as she swayed with you for a moment.

“Of course not! Last thing I knew was that they haven’t talked since that soccer game!” You hurried to whisper back, not wanting to appear as if you’d be talking about Magui when said woman was still standing right there, staring at you and P with a glint of annoyance in the blue of her eyes.

In your head you cursed Lando to hell and back, even hoping that stupid engine of his car was going to blow up on Sunday just to be spiteful.

The question why he apparently saw it fit to invite a woman he knew you couldn’t stand and most likely also knew, couldn’t stand you, was burning in you hotter then the sun ever could.

Last years conversation during the F1 75 Event suddenly was at the back of your mind, remembering how he had ensured you that it was nothing serious with them. Not in so many words but you did feel like that’s what he meant. And since you haven’t heard of the actress much since then, you had thought that had been the end of it.

Seemed like you were wrong.

“Hurry, its getting cold…” The other woman fake shivered, the temperature of 27°C making it impossible for her to be actually cold.

Rolling your eyes so hard they might as well have seen your brain for a second once Magui turned to get inside, rubbing at her arms and announcing loudly to everyone that you had “finally managed to make time in your busy schedule to grace them with your presence,” you fought the urge to fight her.

“How you can be friends with her, I truly wonder,”

The door fell shut.

Pietra looked a bit pained, knowing very well that her other friend did have the tendency to lay it on thick when it came to you and that since your first time meeting, there has been a certain tension that wasn’t exactly unjustified.

“She’s not so bad when it’s just us, I swear,”

Giving her a look Pietra knew you didn’t believe her.

Fair, she thought.

“Just don’t let her get to you, okay? She has to leave in about an hour either way,”

“I’ll try but no promises!” you answered with a pointed look.

However when you walked into the livibg room and saw Magui settled comfortable attached to Lando on the couch, a place that was by default reserved for you, you immediately regret to agreeing.

The McLaren driver looked comfortable, even indulgent into her little giggles that grated on your nerves even from afar just as Max appeared with a glass of your favorite wine in his hand.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you as best as he could, a short kiss pressed against your temple, “Just smile and pretend, sunshine. She’ll be gone soon.”

Pietra had sat down with the two lovebirds shamelessly flirting at the moment, though you thought Lando seemed a bit distracted when his eyes met yours over Max’s shoulder.

“Lets pray you got enough wine until then, Maxie.” You accepted the glass with a grateful hum, taking a larger than maybe reasonable sip right after he had let go and earning a snort from your other best friend.

The Brit stirred you towards the single seater across the balcony door, giving you a direct route of escape should your patience run out quicker then the said hour of her presence.

You settled into the throw pillows, hands clutching the wine as if it were you safety line in this situation. Maybe it kind of was…

“I heard of your movie release a while ago. Congratulations for that, Magui.” You smiled forced, hopping that small talk would make he stop clinging to your man lando so much just to be horribly disappointed as she grabbed Lando’s hand while she talked animatedly about her premiere.

Nearly dissociating during her monologue you kept nodding along, eyes pointedly avoiding the man beside your rival? Enemy? You didn’t know what to think of her really.

It wasn’t easy, your eyes flicking back to Lando every so often just to see his reaction to the girl next to him.

It made your stomach drop, to see him mostly focused on Magui, a fond smile plastered on his face even if it looked a bit forced. The little green eyed monster on your shoulder with his claws buried deep and whispering in your ears, not leavibg you alone for a second.

And when he turned to meet your sharp gaze, yu answered by lifting your glass in a mock toast, the corners of your mouth curling into the sweetest smile you could fake.

Max sighed into his beer while Pietra shot her boyfriend a knowing look that said this is going to end interesting.

You took another long sip of wine, hoping it would drown out the ugly knot twisting tighter in your chest, because jealousy had never been an emotion you had to handle often or well.

Magui laughed loudly at her own joke that you seemed to have missed and leaned her head against Lando’s shoulder as if she belonged there, making your grip on the stem of your glass tighten until your knuckles turned white.

Was this why Lando had told you that the almost kiss you shared shouldn’t have happened? Because he had already started seeing Magui again?

God you wanted to throw up at the thought of them together again.

Lando’s smile faltered for the briefest heartbeat when he caught the hurt that slipped through your carefully crafted expression, his fingers unconsciously loosening where Magui still held his hand.

You wanted to go home, maybe get a hug from your mom like you did when you were a child and never see them again.

Half of the conversation you completely tuned out. You didn’t hear Max talk about the Pop Up in London, or Pietra getting up to take Rio out for a walk, or that Max kept refilling your glass whenever it started to look a bit more empty until you were on 3rd glass within the hour until finally the Portuguese woman rose and finally let go of Lando.

Just to have him get up too to walk her out.

The room suddenly felt suffocating, everything fading into meaningless background noise as the realization settled heavily in your stomach that maybe you had misunderstood everything happening between the two of you recently.

“Are you okay?” Pietra dared to ask as she looked into the hallway to check if Lando was coming back. Max eyed you carefully, watching how you looked up sharply as if ripped out of your own world.

“Yeah!” you said almost to fast, voice a bit to high and loud. “Yes, of course why wouldn’t I be? I– I…”

They both saw the exact moment in which your eyes went glassy.

“…I need some air…”

Neither Pietra nor Max managed to get a word out before you were out the balcony door. Wine glass abandoned on the table now and neither able to fault you for needing a moment.

Max had known that the situation had turned messy long before today. Maybe it had always been messy, he wondered then and Pietra, having been on the receiving end of your rant calls for quite some time now, knew that it had only been a matter of time until something spilled over.

And even if that didn’t have front row seats to the disaster that was you and Lando, anyone else seeing you together knew that this wasn’t just friendship.

The balcony door slid shut behind you with a soft click, muffling what was going on inside until all you could hear was the distant hum of traffic, the chirping of a bird and the frantic pounding of your own heart as you gripped the railing hard enough for the sun heated metal to burn your fingers.

Inside, Lando’s laugh abruptly died the second he stepped back into the living room and found your seat empty, his eyes immediately searching the room before landing on the untouched wine glass you had left behind.

Max didn’t even bother hiding the disappointed look he sent his best friend, taking a long pull from his beer before muttering, “Congratulations, mate. You finally fucked it.”

Behind you, the sliding door opened again a bit later and you didn’t need to turn around to know it was him, the familiar weight of presence and the soft hesitation in the steps giving him away before he said a single word.

“Hey…” he started carefully, like he was approaching a skittish animal but the word alone made your throat tighten as you finally looked at him with glassy eyes you couldn’t fully hide.

“Why was she here?” you demanded to know with force, trying to will away the tears wanti g to spill out.

Lando stood still for a moment. He hadn’t expected this kind of reaction. Maybe anger for bringing Magui or maybe annoyance but this? This raw and utter defeat tangled with rage? That he hadn’t expected.

“She had a few days off and was at the Pop Up so I thought, why not catch up with everyone,” he said carefully just to receive a scoff.

“Catch up, hm? Sure looked a lot more comfortable then just catching up to me.”

Lando frowned at that.

“That’s not— it’s not like that love,” he started, then stopped himself knowing that you didn’t believe him either way.

The petname usually able to warm your heart now simply served to make you mad.

“Then pray tell me what it is like, hm? Why invite her after no contact for months?” you hissed back, tone scratching at his patience.

“Like I said, just catching up!”

“Question. Do you think I’m dumb? Or blind?” you asked with your arms now crossed and you chin tilted up with a kind of sass only you could bring to the table.

“No but I think you’ve twisted this thing between me and Magui—”

“So there is a thing now?”

Taking a step forward Lando inhaled slowly to not let it show how much it got to him being called out about this thing he was trying not to make one. “No, like I was trying to say youre twisting it into something its not!”

Your laugh came out pained as you shot back, “Right, because I just imagined her nearly crawling into your lap just now.”

“You said there was nothing between you! You, said that last year!” you spat, voice cracking under the weight of it.

„An I wasn’t lying y/n,“ Lando said quietly, his jaw tightening as he held your gaze.

Your breath hitched, anger and hurt tangling so tight in your chest that it felt like you couldn’t separate one from the other.

He took another careful step closer, lowering his voice, “I didn’t lie then and I’m not lying now— there is nothing between me and Magui, not like you’re thinking.”

What was meant to be reassuring was everything but that. You felt hot, not because of the weather but because of burning anger boiling your blood. “Then why was she fucking here?“

Lando took another step closer, his voice dropping as frustration finally cracked through the careful restraint he’d been holding onto.

„Why do you even care who I fuck, hm? You aren’t my girlfriend,“ he snapped, the words tasting wrong on his mouth as he said them.

„And she isn’t either, so why was she here?“ you forced out darkly followed by a silence that knocked the air out of your lungs. Your shoulders that had been tense before dropped significantly and your voice a bit breathless „She isn’t… right?“

Lando’s expression broke for a second, all the frustration draining out of him as he stepped closer and murmured, „Y/n, love…“.

He shook his head slowly, voice quieter now, insisting again that there was nothing between him and Magui.

Your throat tightened as you stared at him, barely breathing when you repeated, „Lando tell me she isn’t… please…“.

Lando standing in front of you now reached out but stopped just short of touching you, exhaling sharply before answering, „She isn’t anything like that, I swear— there’s no her and me.“

The words should have soothed you, but instead your eyes filled anyway as you stood there frozen.

„Why do you even care?“ he asked quietly, eyes shaking a bit at his own question.

„Because you can’t be her’s!“

The words echoed in Lando’s ears. Breath caught sharply at your words, his eyes fixed on you like he had just been hit harder than any crash he’d ever taken on track, and for once Lando looked completely lost.

„Then who’s am i, huh?“ he whispered into the closing gap between you.

Your words were stuck in your throat and you didn’t know what to say. The question was good. Who’s was he because it wasn’t you. It had never been you and even if you hated that he wasn’t, you still saw him as your’s.

„Say it, who’s am i?“ he said again, wanting to know what you were going to say. He couldn’t help but stare at your lips stuck between your teeth as you tried to come up with something to say.

„Lan—“ you breathed shakily.

„Say it.“ Forehead touching yours now he wasn’t asking anymore. He wanted an answer. “Come one, my love just say it…”

The air between you felt impossibly thin, like one wrong breath would snap whatever fragile line was holding you both together.

You swallowed hard, chin lifting in that stubborn, petulant way that had always undone him and forced out, „You’re mine!“

Lando went completely still, like the world had short-circuited, his hands finally closing the last inch between you as they came up to hold your face.

„Damn right i am.“

His lips found your own in a demanding kiss that knocked the air you had left in your lungs completely out again. It was far from gentle but just as satisfying as the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place after hours of searching for it.

Your fingers found the front of his shirt, tugging and pulling him in to prevent any distance forcing you apart again until you had to come up for air.

His mouth stayed only inches away from yours, thumbs brushing feather light over your cheeks and sending shivers down your spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though neither of you dared to move away.

Instead, you shook your head quickly and that was all the permission he needed to lean in again.

In the living room Max and Pietra had tried not to listen into to fight happening outside. Due to the volume it was nearly impossible to do so however and even while talking about their upcoming week didn’t distract them enough to miss what was going on outside.

And then there was silence all of a sudden.

Scared that you and Lando had finally murdered each other now, Max whipped around just to have his jaw nearly drop. P quickly reached out to hold onto his arm, trying to steady herself and equally as shocked as her boyfriend.

“Fucking finally!”

[piastrocious]

IT FINALLY HAPPENED 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

[oscnoopy]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝟒 𝐮 - 𝐥𝐧𝟏

lando norris x social media manager!reader₊⊹ smau + written

lando has been seen partying almost every night. it turns out he's only doing it to get your attention.

note: been thinking about party boy lando non stop and this is the result of that. be aware that i barely know how being a social media manager or running a pr team works so suspend your disbelief a little bit. word count: 6.1k warnings :smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), semi public sex (in the private hallway of a club), swearing, alcohol consumption, technically unfair power dynamics (reader works for lando) fc: _annie_annie_annie_ on ig

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

yourusername just posted

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, and others

yourusername: breaks over :( at least one of us is ready to work 💪

view all comments:

user: yay another season of yn providing us the best lando content !! mclarenf1: Back 2 it 💪 lando: damn who is the hottie in the first pic 🥵 ⤷lando: Get off of my account!! I did not say this 😠 ⤷yourusername: bro is losing his mind lando: When did you even take this? ⤷yourusername: i can’t remember, you take so many naps dude ⤷lando: I’m a sleepy boy :( ⤷yourusername: cringe maxfewtrell: Bro will fall asleep anywhere

lando just posted

liked by lnfour, yourusername, and others

lando: spent the day back at the school where it all started! thanks for letting me pop in for the afternoon. mega to see some old faces and meet a lot of new ones

view all comments:

lando: enjoy that last one 😂 user: LITTLE LANDO NORRIS lnfour: those are v interesting facts on slide 2  user: pr team working OVERTIME user: get caught out partying night after night? just post wholesome pics of you visiting your old school to make yourself look good. ⤷yourusername: stop ur making my job sound easier than it is  user:  he also like fancy watches 😭😭😭

ynpriv just posted

liked by lilympriv and others

ynpriv: ok google what do i do when i have a crush on my sort of boss but he keeps going out partying with random girls and now my other boss is telling me i need to make him knock it off asking for a friend

view all comments:

lilympriv: girl what have u gotten yourself into ⤷ynpriv: lily help mEEEE albono23: Seems like you’re coping well ⤷ynpriv: SO WELL ALEX, SO WELL ⤷albono23: Stop. Dont yell at me. You know Im sensitive ⤷ynpriv: @.lilympriv how do you deal with this guy ⤷lilympriv: sometimes I imagine his face on the golf ball when I play ⤷albono23: What the fuck??? dannyric: I asked you to stop using this fucking picture ⤷ynpriv: #didntask #dontcare oscaaaah: Surely you could just tell him how you feel and that would get him to stop acting out. ⤷ynpriv: bitch ur crazy ⤷oscaaaah: See if I give you advice again

view story replies:

lando: SO YOU HATE ME?? ↳yourusername: where does it say that ↳lando: If u didnt hate me u would want to work ↳yourusername: i don’t dream of labor ↳lando: Your job is looking at pics of me how hard can it be ↳yourusername: actually i do hate you ↳lando: NOOOOOOO

yourusername just posted

liked by lilymhe, lando, and others

yourusername: dj is mid

view all comments:

lando: DJ is fucking MINT ⤷yourusername: agree to disagree user: omg dj lando, yn always provides 🙏 user: is posting about going to a party with lando really the best idea? ⤷user: it’s prob a work thing? i doubt she’d be posting it otherwise user: outfit is fire 🔥🔥🔥

view story replies:

↳user: girl did you mean to post this here

↳alex_albon: You know this isn’t your private account right? RIGHT??

↳user: DELETE THIS BEFORE U GET IN TROUBLE OMG

this story is no longer available

view story replies:

↳user: is that yn??

↳user: lando youre gonna make this girl lose her job

↳user: DELETEEEE

↳user: i know this picture wasn’t meant for us but it’s taking me OUT

this story is no longer available

view story replies:

this story is no longer available

—

the party is in full swing when you and lando arrive, the music overwhelmingly loud, bass bumping and people crammed in everywhere. lando grabs you by the hand, leading you toward the vip section. when you get there, the two of you are met by a few of lando’s friends, none of which you recognize. you let lando handle introductions, pretending to listen as you look around the club, knowing you won’t remember any of these people’s names. you take a seat in the booth and lando squeezes in next to you, placing his arm behind you and leaning to speak into your ear, the music too loud for regular conversation. 

“do you want a drink?” you nod at his question and he signals over a server and requesting drinks for you both, along with a few shots. you squint your eyes at lando, eyeing him suspiciously when he orders shots.

“are you trying to get me drunk?”

“isn’t that the whole point?” he laughs at you, nodding at your question. “have some fun for once, yn!”

“i have fun!” you pout at him, trying to convince him that he’s wrong about you. “i do so much fun stuff.”

“yeah, like what?”

“um,” you pause trying to think, but for some reason you can’t remember anything you do besides work for the man next to you. “okay, i can’t think of anything but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true!”

“sure, i believe you.” you can tell he’s lying by the smirk on his face, teasing in his eyes. “either way, shots are fun and the goal tonight is to have lots of fun, yeah?”

you go to respond when the server returns holding a tray containing the alcohol lando ordered for you both. the server quickly places your drinks onto the table in front of you and you thank them with a smile. lando slides two shots of tequila in your direction. 

“let’s get this party started” he holds his shot glass up to you and you clink yours against his, both of you quickly downing the liquid. “cheers!”

lando’s face is twisted in a grimace at the taste of the tequila and he’s quick to take a sip of his mixed drink, chasing down the awful taste of the liquor. you laugh at him, not feeling phased by the taste. you survived on pink whitney in college, you can handle a shot of tequila. you shiver at the thought of that cursed drink, grabbing your own cocktail and taking a sip. 

you and lando stay at the vip table for a bit, talking with the other people there and finishing your drinks. he convinces you to take a few more shots and you comply, though not without a few joking complaints. as you start feeling the alcohol more, you catch yourself staring at lando while he’s locked in discussion with a guy across the table from you. you watch as he speaks, eyes honing in on his lips. you blush when your mind is filled with thoughts of his lips on your own, shaking your head and tuning back into the conversation, quietly sipping your drink that’s mostly melted ice at this point.

lando turns to you, his arm behind your back curling over your shoulder and pulling you closer. he leans in close so you can hear him, his lips lightly brushing against your ear when he speaks, causing you to shiver.

“do you want to dance?” he leans back to look at you, waiting for your answer. normally, you’d say no, not wanting to embarrass yourself and not wanting to be that close to a bunch of strangers, but the alcohol has your inhibitions lowered. 

you nod at lando, taking his hand and letting him pull you out of the booth and onto the dance floor. 

you squeeze through the crowd, couples dancing against each other, friends scream singing to whatever song is playing over the speakers. lando pulls you deeper onto the dance floor, turning to face you once he feels the two of you are sufficiently in the thick of things. 

you nod your head to the music, feeling the bass in your chest, trying to ignore the feeling of strangers bumping into you. lando places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer. 

“relax.” he can sense how anxious you feel around these people and he tries to calm your nerves. “dance with me.”

you let him pull you closer, winding your arms around his neck as he guides your hips to move with the beat of the music. you listen to lando and try to relax, letting the music and the alcohol flow through you, clearing your mind. lando leans in, resting his head against your own and singing the lyrics to the 2000s pop song that’s playing. you laugh at the stupid voice he’s putting on as he sings, joining in. 

you’re not sure how long you’ve been dancing when someone comes up and taps lando on the shoulder. you recognize him as one of the men from the vip section, but of course you don’t remember his name. he leans into lando’s ear, cupping a hand around his mouth so he can be heard better. lando nods at whatever the man said to him and you watch as the stranger walks away. lando turns back to you, pulling you close again.

“they’re gonna let me dj, you wanna watch?” he grins at you, squeezing your waist. you roll your eyes and smile back at him, nodding at his question. he lets go of your hips, holding your hand again and pulling you toward the dj booth at the back of the dance floor. the music gets louder as you approach, the bass almost shaking the floor beneath you. lando leads you onto the stage, directing you to stand off to the side while he goes up to the man currently running the dj booth. lando daps the man up, and they chat for a minute. the two swap places, lando slipping the headphones over his ears and locking in on the deck, fiddling around with the many knobs and buttons. you have no idea what he’s doing but the music doesn’t sound terrible, so you assume he’s doing a good job. 

as you watch lando at work, you start to realize how attractive you find him when he’s in the zone like this. he’s nodding his head to the music, closing his eyes as he mixes beats and pumps up the bass. you’re transfixed, staring at how competent he seems behind the desk as he jumps along to the beat he’s concocted. 

you’re still looking at him when lando beckons you over to join him at the booth, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck and letting the music autoplay. you move over to him and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, looking down at you, cheeks flushed from exertion. he’s beaming, hair sweaty and sticking to his face. you smile back up at him, enjoying seeing the man look so free. you’re starting to understand why he’s been going out so often. if it always feels like this, you’d be doing the same thing.

“are you having fun?” he’s almost shouting when he leans toward your ear, making sure you can hear him from the music blastic from the speakers nearby. “i’m a great dj, right?”

“eh, you’re fine i guess.” you giggle as you tease him, laughing at the affronted look on his face. “ok fine, you’re the best dj i’ve ever heard. is that better?”

“i’m chosing to ignore the sarcasm and take the compliment, thank you very much.” lando pulls you closer to the dj booth, taking the headphones that rest around his neck and slipping them over your head, pushing aside some hair that gets in the way. “your turn.”

you look at him confused, not sure what he means. if he thinks you have any idea how to work the deck, he’s sorely mistaken. you’re more likely to accidentally turn everything off and ruin the party. you shake your head at him, trying to pull away when he grabs your hands and places them onto the controller. 

“just follow my lead, i’m right here.” he reassures you, hands resting on top of yours as he guides you to the right buttons and sliders. he adjusts his position, moving to stand behind you, hands still on top of your own. he leans his head on your shoulder. you lean against his warm chest as he pushes against your back, his arms cage you in while his hands puppet your own. you’re surrounded by the man, nose filled with the scent of his fancy cologne and something else that’s distinctly lando. you’ve never been this close to him and you know exactly why. being close to lando like this makes it impossible to ignore your feelings for him. he whispers in your ear, explaining what he’s doing with your hands, telling you what each knob does. you’re not even pretending to listen, too lost in the feeling of him around you. he calls your name a few times, trying to get your attention but you don’t hear him.

“yn?” lando removes his hands from yours, pulling away and turning you around to face him. he looks at your dazed face, and laughs though you can tell he’s a bit worried. “you need some air?”

you nod eagerly and he pulls you both away from the booth, passing the headphones back to the original dj. he takes you to a private hallway, it’s empty, lights dim, and the music is muffled when he shuts the door behind you. 

you lean back against the wall, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. lando approaches, leaning his shoulder against the wall and facing you. he looks you over, taking in your red cheeks and the sweat lightly dripping down your face. he stares at your mouth when you lick your lips, eyes hooded at the thought of finally getting to kiss you, to get his mouth on yours. he stops this train of thought quickly, his worry for you outweighing his thirst. 

“you okay?” he watches as you open your eyes, turning your head toward his. you smile at him, nodding at his question. “you sure?”

“i’m good, lando. just needed to catch my breath.” you scoot closer to lando against the wall, leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. “thank you for inviting me out.”

“i kind of gave you no choice.”

“i could have said no, you’re not that convincing.” he looks at you like he doesn’t believe you. you barely believe yourself, knowing you’d do anything he’d ask if he asked enough. you’re so gone for this man, it’s embarrassing. 

“is that so?” he stands upright, stepping in front of you and pressing his hands on the wall behind your head. “so, if i asked to kiss you would you say no? or could i convince you to say yes?”

you let out a breath, not expecting the question. you blink at him, trying to gauge if he’s serious or not. you can tell by the look in his eyes, that he means it, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“you wouldn’t have to convince me.”

“yeah?”

“yes.”

one of lando’s hands drops from the wall and grabs your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him, forcing you to hold his gaze. you feel warm from the heat in his gaze, anticipation flooding your veins. he leans in close, his lips almost touching yours but not quite. he pauses there, looking deep into your eyes. you lean forward to try and meet his lips but the man pulls back a hair, the corners of his mouth ticking up in a teasing smile. you pout at him and he takes pity on you, finally placing his lips on your own. 

lando’s lips are warm, only a little chapped, as they touch yours and you sigh against his mouth. your hands reach forward, grabbing his hips, fingers slipping beneath the fabric and resting on his bare skin. he lets out a quiet whine at your touch, kissing you more deeply. he forces your lips open, tongue slipping inside and brushing against the roof of your mouth. you bask in the taste of him, letting him explore your mouth. he pulls back after a few moments, letting the both of you catch your breath. his lips move to kiss your cheek, hand on your jaw tilting your head for a better angle as his kisses move down to your jaw, your neck, the exposed parts of your chest. you let out a moan when he nips at the flesh of your neck, quickly soothing it with another kiss. he pulls back from your neck and presses a gentle peck on your lips, staring you down.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” you reply to his words by kissing him again, trying to impart your feelings on the man without saying them outright. he returns your kiss, the hand resting against the wall migrating down your body, caressing your bare shoulder, brushing against the soft skin of your forearm until he reaches your hand, grabbing it in his own and intertwining your fingers. he presses your connected hands back up against the wall above your head, his other hand finally releasing your face. you pull back from the kiss, looking him over. he takes the opportunity to run his free hand down your side, knuckles lightly brushing against your covered breast. he smiles when you flinch at the feeling, hand moving to repeat the action. 

“is this okay?” his hand hovers over your chest, waiting for your approval. you give it to him and his hand cups one of your tits, watching almost hypnotized at the sight of your cleavage spilling out from the top of your dress. “look at you, so fucking pretty.”

you blush at his words, feeling your entire body heat up. he leans forward, kissing your chest, teeth sinking into the soft flesh. the hand you were resting on his hip slides up his back and tangles into his curls, but you don’t pull him away as he continues kissing and biting at your chest. the hand squeezing your breast moves further down your body, sliding down your hips to where the fabric of your dress meets your thighs. he starts to slip a hand under the dress, but pauses gripping the soft flesh of your thigh instead. he lifts his head from your chest, looking at you, his eyes wide and pleading.

“um,” he hesitates, biting his lip. his eyes are hooded as he looks at you, “can i touch you?”

“okay.” you run your hand through his hair, tilting his head up toward yours and pulling him closer to you. you place a kiss on his lips, smiling at him. 

he kisses you back, the hand holding your own finally letting you go. he deepens the kiss, hands pushing your dress up your legs and over your hips. he breaks away from your mouth, looking down at where your pretty lace panties are exposed. he groans when he sees them, fingers slipping into the waist band and snapping it lightly against your skin. 

“hey!” you protest his action, pulling at his hair. “that hurts, lando.” 

“sorry baby.” he apologizes, deciding to kneel down on the floor in front of you, placing a sweet kiss on your hip where he’d caused you pain. “let me make it up to you?”

you can tell exactly what he wants by the hungry look on his face. his eyes flicker from holding your gaze to staring between your legs. you squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself getting wet at the way he’s looking at you. you use your free hand to hold the fabric of your dress up and out of the way, nodding at lando to take what he wants. he doesn’t hesitate, hands slipping under the elastic of your underwear and yanking them down your legs. he holds you steady as you slip one leg and then the other out of your panties, watching him ball up the fabric and slip it into the pocket of his jeans. 

“you’re not keeping those, they were expensive.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he doesn’t give you a chance for a rebuttal, shouldering open your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air around you. you moan at the shock of it, trying to close your legs again but he doesn’t let you. he stares at your glistening pussy, licking his lips.

“fuck, so wet f’me already.” he uses a hand to hold one of your thighs against the wall, spreading you open for his eyes to behold. he looks like a dog and you’re just a piece of meat, waiting to be eaten. he stares at you for a lingering moment and you start to feel impatient, thrusting your hips into his face, causing his nose to brush against your core. “so needy.”

“get on with it lando, before someone walks in on us.” you whine at him, begging for him to finally get his mouth where you need him the most.

“not just needy, demanding too, huh?” he takes a hand and places a light slap on your pussy in admonishment. “be a good girl and be patient.” 

you go to complain again, to urge him to stop teasing you, but your words are stolen from you when he slips a finger between your folds. he slicks the thick digit up with your wetness before pressing at your entrance. you’ll admit that it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone, so you grip lando’s finger tight as it pushes inside you. he groans when you clench around him, pulling out and quickly adding a second finger. he eases into you, scissoring you open and dragging more of your wetness out of you, spreading it to your clit and rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. you whine at the feeling, flinching at his touch. thankfully, with the club music still thumping in the background, you don’t have to control your volume, free to let lando hear exactly how good he’s making you feel. 

he keeps fingering your pussy, his big hands and long fingers able to reach that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. you clench around his fingers, if his hands can get this deep, god knows what his cock will do to you. he slips his fingers out of you, hand moving to grip your thigh again, leaving smears of your juices on the skin. he looks up at you again, taking in your flushed face and heaving chest. 

“i want to eat you out.” he kisses your inner thigh. “will you let me?”

“please.”

lando lives to please, so he dives in, licking a stripe up your folds, nose brushing against your clit. he uses the hands on your thighs to spread you wider, trying to get more of you into his mouth. he alternates licking and sucking on your clit, breathing deeply through his nose so he doesn’t have to take his mouth off of you. lando tilts your hips forward, his tongue darting down to slip into your hole. it’s nowhere near as deep as his fingers went, but the feeling is overwhelming, his tongue hot and wet, licking up your wetness. you place your hands back in his hair, tugging at the curls, pushing his face deeper into your pussy. he groans when you do, hips thrusting forward into the air. he eats you out for what feels like forever, you lose track of the time, only thinking about how good his mouth feels on you. 

it’s when he’s sucking on your clit, fingers pistoning in and out of your pussy, that you feel yourself reaching your peak. your walls spasm around his fingers, clenching him tightly. he can tell you’re getting close, speeding up his fingers and licking broad stripes up your folds. he pulls back from your pussy, face wet and glistening with your juices. lando looks up at you, eyes glazed over.

“cum on my face. please, please, please.” he begs you, wanting to feel you come undone on his tongue. he goes back in, eating you more intently, now with a goal in mind. you don’t last much longer, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you, release gushing into lando’s eager mouth. he groans, the sound vibrating through you. he holds you still as your legs shake from the orgasm, still not letting up. he keeps eating your pussy, lapping up your juices like a man starved. you shove his face away from you, whining from overstimulation. he finally gets off of you, leaning back on his heels and staring up at you with a look of awe on his face. he sucks the two fingers that were inside you into his mouth, licking your juices from them like he couldn’t get enough of your taste on his tongue. as he pulls his shirt up to his chin to wipe off his face, exposing a bit of his tanned stomach, you notice the large wet spot on his jeans despite the dim lighting. you realize that he managed to come without touching himself, only from eating you out. the visual manages to make you wetter, and you feel something drip down your leg. 

you pull your dress back down your hips as lando stands up from the floor. he watches you tuck your tits back from where they escaped your bra and dress, adjusting himself in his pants, trying to make the wet spot less noticeable. thankfully, it’s dark outside, so he shouldn’t have to worry about anyone noticing the mess he made in his jeans. you hold a hand out to him, with an expectant look.

“what?” he looks genuinely confused, his brain clearly not working at full capacity at the moment.

“my panties, lando? i told you that you couldn’t keep them.”

“oh right.” he pulls the wadded up lace out of his pocket, holding them in a hand but still not giving them back to you. “you sure i can’t keep ‘em?”

“no lando.” 

“you’re no fun.” he pouts at you, tossing the panties at you and not helping as you bend down to slip them on, trying not to fall over or lose your balance. 

“was what we just did not fun?” 

“i can think of something more fun we can do.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, his insinuation obvious. 

“you’re ridiculous.” you toss your head back against the wall, groaning at him.

“you love it.”

—

ynpriv just posted

ynpriv: i got fired lol

view all comments:

oscaaah: I’m sorry yn. ⤷ynpriv: thanks osc its whatever lilympriv: bc you went out with lando?? ⤷ynpriv: yeah lol they said my “current behavior does not align with mclaren’s views” and that i’m a “bad influence” on lando ⤷albono23: Thats so stupid? What the hell ⤷dannyric: If anyone is a bad influence it’s Norris. ⤷ynpriv: i’ve decided i don’t care. they were asking me to do shit that wasn’t part of my job for weeks, i was already getting sick of it.  oscaaah: How did Lando react? ⤷ynpriv: idk if he even knows tbh

—

lando paces back and forth in the hallway in front of your apartment door. he wrings his hands, anxious and trying to find the courage to knock on your door. he finally stops his pacing, taking a deep breath, and knocks on the door. he impatiently waits for you to answer, praying that you’re not too upset with him. though, after talking with his pr team, that probably isn’t the case. you don’t answer after the first knock, so he knocks again, louder this time.

“yn? it’s lando.” he calls out to you through the door when you still don’t answer. he doesn’t even know if you’re home right now. “can we please talk?”

he stands in front of your closed door like an idiot, looking around and hoping none of your neighbors decide to make a fuss about the stranger loitering in the hallway. rather than knocking again, he takes out his phone, pulling up your contact. he hits the call button and waits, to see if you’ll finally answer.

instead of hearing your voice over the phone, he hears your ringtone going off from behind the door, proving that you’re home after all. he can hear you curse as you attempt to silence your phone, knowing your presence has been revealed.

“yn, i know you’re in there!” he knocks at your door again, pleading for you to answer. “please, let me in. i’m sorry.”

his begging is met with the sound of the lock turning and the door unlatching. he stares as you open the door a hair, peeking at him through the crack. he hates to say it, but you look rough. your eyes red and tired, hair a tangled mess.

“uh, hi.” he gives you a little wave, smiling at you full of nerves and awkwardness. “can i come in?”

“why?” you’re reluctant to speak with the man, not wanting to do anything but rot in your bed and wallow in your newfound unemployment. 

“i want to talk? make sure you’re okay after the other night?” he steps forward, placing a hand on the door but doesn’t attempt to push it open. “please, yn?”

“fine.” you step back, pulling the door open wider and waving lando into your apartment. “make it quick.”

“are you upset with me?” he turns to you, standing in your entryway, as you close and lock the door behind you.

“not really” you walk past the man, heading into your living room and taking the seat on your couch. lando follows, sitting with you on the couch, but leaving a space between the two of you. “i’m assuming you know i got fired?”

he sighs, looking at you, eyes full of sympathy. he should have listened to max when the man told him this plan was stupid. he should have expected that you’d face consequences for being seen partying with him, but he wanted to go out with you so badly, wanted you to finally see him as more than just a guy you worked for. 

“they told me this morning. fuck, yn. i’m so sorry.” he runs a hand through his hair, tossing his head back against the couch. “i didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“it’s my own fault, really.” you look at him, resigned. “i knew going out with you would look bad, they’d already told me i was on thin ice.”

“still. i shouldn’t have manipulated you into going out with me, it was so fucking stupid.” 

“manipulated? it’s not like you didn’t give me a choice lando. you asked and i said yes.” 

“well…about that.” he trails off, seeming reluctant to continue. you look at him confused, not understanding what he’s talking about. he groans, staring up at the ceiling. “the partying, the going out with random girls, it was all an attempt to get your attention. to annoy you into finally agreeing to go out with me.”

it’s silent for a moment as you process his words. you’re not sure what to think besides “what a stupid plan.”

“hey, it worked didn’t it?” you realized you said your thoughts out loud when lando replies, affronted. “look, i thought if i kept doing it even when you asked me to stop, that eventually you’d get fed up and i could convince you to go out with me.”

“lando, why didn’t you just ask me to go out with you?” you’re confused at his thought process, not understanding why he came up with this convoluted plan. “why make yourself look bad and make my job harder?”

“because i’m an idiot? i don’t know.” he leans forward, groaning into his hands. “and any time i asked you to hang out, you’d always say no. i wanted you to see me as a friend, or maybe something more.”

“...something more?” you look at where he’s hunched over on the couch next to you, feeling your face flame up at his words.

“i meant what i said the other night, how i’d been waiting so long to kiss you.” he looks up from his hands, his cheeks as red as yours, looking at you shyly. “i’ve had feelings for you for a while now.”

“you’re joking?” you let out a laugh of disbelief at his confession. he seems to think you’re laughing at him, turning away from you in embarrassment. 

“you don’t have to laugh at me, yn. i feel stupid enough.” he crosses his arms, still not looking at you. “i tried so many times to get you to spend time with me outside of work, so you’d finally realize how i felt.”

“wait, sorry. i’m not laughing at you!” you try to reassure him, turning your body on the couch to face him directly. you grab one of his hands, holding it within your own. “lando, i always said no to hanging out because i wanted to spend as little time around you as possible.”

“wow, that totally makes me feel better.” his words are full of sarcasm and he tries to yank his hand away from yours but you hold tight.

“stop, let me finish.” you give his hand a squeeze, trying to get him to meet your eyes. “look at me please?”

he listens to you, turning his blue-green eyes to yours. they’re full of anxiety, the man expecting a rejection, but you can see a glimmer of hope in them, that maybe he hadn’t fully fucked things up and he still has a chance with you.

“what i mean to say is, i didn’t want to spend time with you because i was scared you’d figure out i liked you.” you hold his gaze despite how much you want to look away. “i’ve had the biggest crush on you but i work for you, i knew it was unrealistic to think anything could come from it.”

“oh.” lando sighs in relief, squeezing your hand and scooting closer to you on the couch. “how long?”

“basically the entire time?”

“wow. god we’re both idiots.” you both laugh at his words. he lets go of your hand, moving to grab your face. “well, now you don’t work for me, so?”

“so what?”

“so can i kiss you again?”

you blush and nod at his question, and he leans into you. lando places his lips on yours, the kiss gentle but you feel the passion behind it. his lips are warm and slightly chapped, the hand on your face pulling you even closer. you pull away, catching your breath, but lando doesn’t let you get away from him for long, capturing your lips in an even deeper kiss. he parts your lips with his tongue, licking into your mouth. one of his hands moves to your hip and he lifts you onto his lap, leaning back against the couch. you straddle the man, lost in his kiss. you wind your arms around his neck, twisting a hand into his curls. lando’s hands smooth up and down your back, holding you tightly. the kiss seems to go on forever, the two of you only breaking away for a few seconds to breathe. lando finally pulls away from your mouth, placing a few pecks on your lips as he does. the man stares up at you, a dazed smile on his face. he looks so happy, satisfied with himself. you’re sure you look the same, feeling your cheeks heat up as you hold his gaze.

“i really don’t want to look for another job.” you rest back in his arms, feeling yourself come back to reality. 

“well, ash could do with some help running the lnfour accounts?” he places another kiss on your lips, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “if it’s not too weird that you’re sleeping with the boss?”

“oh are we sleeping together, now?” you tease him, laughing when he glares playfully at you. “i don’t remember that happening…”

“then let me give you a refresher.” you yelp when lando quickly stands up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you. he walks to your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him and tossing you onto the bed. 

—

yourusername just posted

liked by lando and others

yourusername: new gig same guy @.lnfour

view comments: 

lnfour: Happy to have you on the team 🤝 user: WAIT does this mean no more ash??? yourusername: no there’s just two of us now 😈 user: mclaren pr punching the wall rn comment liked by author user: the nails EAT lando: First job assignment is to come out with me tonight user: bro is going to get her fired AGAIN user: she got fired from his mclaren team so he gave her a job on his personal team, no way he’s going to let her go again 🤣 comment liked by lando

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

[zeroabsurdity]

ROOM IS SPINNINGGGGGGG

[clovermoters]

IVE JUST OPENED MY EYES

[flurofujo]

o69p license plate son or eat pussy it’s vegan shirt daughter

[piastrocious]

i’m literally laughing my ass off because of LN1twt 😭 it is in shambles because of THAT LN video ??? cause why is he slutting himself out

[jeezilikesports]

NICO INTERVIEWING LEWIS FOR HIS FIRST WIN WITH FERRARI ON THE TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR CRASH IN SPAIN IS CRAZY WORK

[piastrocious]

LEWIS FIRST WIN IN FERRARI 631 PODIUM ALL BRIT PODIUM LN1 FINALLY FINISHING A RACE WE ARE UPPPP 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

[lewispitlane]

ON LAP 63?

[piastrocious]

i just witnessed a whole ass brocedes interview ???

[piastrocious]

possible hamilton first win in ferrari 🥹🥹🥹

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Lonely paradise (part 9)

Sumary: During a holiday with his friends after the World Championship, Lando Norris didn’t expect to find love. He also didn’t expect to like the fact that she apparently had no idea of who he was. At first, it wasn’t really a lie, just an omission, but quickly he buries himself into more and more lies. How will he get himself out of it ?

Pairing : Original female character x Lando Norris

Genre : fluff, love at first sight, miscommunication

Word count : 12k

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Lando eventually erupted from his bedroom half an hour later.

Downstairs, the group had gathered in the living room with the strange, careful energy of people who were trying to continue an evening while waiting for someone’s heartbreak to become audible again. They were technically getting ready to leave for dinner. Shoes were on. Phones were in hands. Alissa had already put on earrings. Tom had changed shirts. Eddie had asked twice what time the reservation was and then stopped asking when no one answered properly. Max sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows on knees, his attention fixed not on the room but on the ceiling above him, as if he could hear Lando’s state of mind through the floorboards.

Pietra had been quieter than usual.

That alone made Max suspicious.

The moment Lando appeared at the top of the stairs, everyone turned.

He had showered. That was the first miracle. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends, darker from the water. He had changed into clean clothes, not anything special, not dressed for dinner exactly, but intentional enough that it proved he had looked in a mirror and decided to continue existing in public. A plain dark T-shirt, light trousers, trainers. His face was still pale, his eyes still red, and there was a fragility around his mouth that no amount of cold water could erase, but he looked less like a man decomposing inside his room and more like someone walking toward something.

Max stood slowly. His gaze moved from Lando to Pietra almost instantly.

“What the hell did you say to him?”

Pietra looked far too innocent. “Nothing.”

Max gave her a look. “He showered.”

“Yes.”

“He changed clothes.”

“Yes.”

“He is coming downstairs.”

“Yes.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “Pietra.”

She smiled, small and satisfied, like a woman who had moved something enormous half an inch and intended to claim victory for it. “We had a talk.”

“A talk.”

“Yes.”

“What kind of talk?”

“A private one.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

Lando reached the bottom of the stairs before Max could interrogate her further. He stopped in the entrance of the living room, his eyes moving across all of them with the exhausted caution of someone who knew he was surrounded by love and still had no strength to receive it properly.

Tom was the first to speak to him directly.

“How are you?”

Lando looked at him for a second.

The old instinct was there. The easy lie. The reflexive little smile. Yeah, fine. All good. He almost saw himself doing it, almost felt the words shaping. Then something in him, maybe the rawness of the last twenty-four hours, maybe the echo of Valentina saying that promises were easy when fear was speaking, made him too tired to pretend.

“Not fine,” he said.

The room went still.

Then he gave the smallest shrug, as if the honesty embarrassed him. “But it’s okay.”

It wasn’t. Everyone knew it wasn’t. But it was more honest than anything he had said since coming back from the hotel, and because of that no one corrected him.

Alissa stepped forward slightly. “Are you coming with us to the restaurant?”

Lando’s eyes flicked toward Pietra.

For one moment, she held his gaze.

There was challenge in hers still, but also something gentler beneath it, something that said she knew exactly what she had done and knew exactly how unfair it was. She had handed him hope disguised as a dare because it was the only shape of hope he had been willing to touch.

Lando looked away first.

“No,” he said.

Max frowned. “No?”

“I’m not going.”

“Then where are you going?” Max asked.

Lando dragged a hand once through his damp hair, then let it fall. “I just need to do something.”

“What thing?”

He didn’t answer properly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Max’s face changed immediately. “A walk where?”

“Just a walk.”

“Lando.”

“I’ll be back later.”

Pietra stayed silent, Max noticed.

His eyes narrowed again. “What did you do?”

“Max,” Pietra said softly.

“What did you tell him?”

Lando stepped toward the door. “Nothing. She didn’t do anything.”

“That’s extremely unconvincing.”

“See you guys later,” Lando said.

Tom looked between them, clearly realizing there was something he had missed. “Lan, do you want someone to come with you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe we can just...”

“I need to do this alone.”

The firmness in his voice surprised the room. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even defensiveness. It was something quieter and stranger: resolve, but fragile, the kind that could not survive being questioned too long.

Max moved like he wanted to stop him anyway, but Pietra touched his wrist, very lightly.

Max looked at her, then at Lando, then back at her.

Whatever he saw in Pietra’s expression made him hesitate.

Eventually Lando opened the door.

The evening air slipped in, warm and salty, he stepped out before anyone could ask anything else.

Then he starts to walk.

At first he had no idea if he was angry with Pietra or grateful to her. Maybe both. Probably both. It felt ridiculous, what he was doing. More than ridiculous. Pathetic, almost. Like some desperate character in a film he would have mocked if he were watching from the outside. A man with a broken heart walking back to the place where he met the woman who had left him because his friend suggested the universe might be dramatic enough to care.

Soulmates.

He almost laughed out loud at the word.

Almost.

He descended the path from the villa toward the beach below, where the sand began soft and pale beneath the last fading light. He took off his shoes without really thinking and held them in one hand, letting his feet sink into the cool upper layer of sand. The sky above him was deepening by degrees, a wide stretch of blue turning violet at the edges, with the first stars beginning to appear where the day had thinned enough to let them through. The sea moved beside him in the darkening silver, slow and constant, waves dragging themselves up the shore and slipping back again like breath.

It reminded him too much of the first night.

Not in exact detail. But the sound was the same. The salt in the air. The faint wind. The sensation of being alone after leaving a room full of people. He remembered walking this beach after the club, still irritated with himself, bored, restless, lonely in a way he had not wanted to name. He remembered thinking that something in him had changed, that the old pleasures had stopped working, that maybe the championship had not fixed whatever he had quietly hoped it would.

Then her.

A silhouette in the distance.

Long dark hair. A pale dress. Heels in hand. Makeup ruined from tears. Scared when he approached, then relieved, then annoyed with herself, then quietly funny in a way that made him want to stay near her. He remembered the strange feeling in his chest after he left her at the hotel and walked the rest of the way back to the villa alone. The lightness. The nervousness. The stupid smile Max had noticed instantly. The sense that something had opened, though he had not known what yet.

Now, with distance, he could name it.

That was the cruel part.

It had looked absurd then to call it love. Impossible. Too soon. He would have laughed at anyone else saying it. But looking back, he could see the shape of it already there in the beginning. Not love fully grown, maybe, not the whole thing with roots and weight and history. But the seed of it. The first impossible recognition. The way his body had known to be careful with her before his mind knew why. The way he had handed her his phone without hesitation. The way he had cared whether she got home safe. The way he had wanted to be better in her eyes before he even knew what that meant.

He hated how obvious it looked now.

He walked farther down the beach.

The sand cooled as night settled properly. Music from some distant bar carried faintly across the water, distorted by wind and distance until it became only a pulse, nothing like the heavy club bass from the night they met. He passed a couple sitting close together near the dunes and looked away too quickly. Their laughter followed him for a few seconds, soft and private, and he felt a bitter twist of envy so sudden it embarrassed him.

He thought about what Pietra had said.

Of course it was bullshit.

Soulmates. Fate. The universe arranging things. It belonged to people like her, people who could say impossible things with enough conviction that the world seemed almost rude not to bend around them. Lando had never believed in that. Not really. His life had been built out of work and timing and pressure and consequence. You won because you were fast enough, disciplined enough, lucky enough in all the ordinary measurable ways. You lost because someone else was better, because strategy failed, because a tire degraded, because weather shifted, because reality had mechanics and did not care about romance.

He was too realistic for fate.

And yet.

He kept thinking about that first night, the improbability of it.

He could have stayed at the club. He could have swallowed the boredom, had another drink, let Max drag him into conversation, let Victoria linger too long, let the night become any one of the meaningless nights he had once mistaken for freedom. He could have left five minutes earlier and walked past an empty stretch of beach. He could have left five minutes later and missed Valentina entirely. He could have taken a taxi, which was what he normally would have done. He could have gone in the other direction, called someone, waited for his friends.

And she could have stayed with her group. She could have gone into the club instead of waiting by the beach. Her phone could have kept working. One of her friends could have answered. She could have walked the right way.

The percentage of them meeting had been impossibly small.

And still, they had.

The thought hurt because it gave shape to the thing he did not want to believe.

Luck. Coincidence. Universe. Fate. Whatever stupid word people used when the math of ordinary life briefly became poetry.

Their paths had crossed, and when they did, something inside him had recognized her.

He walked until he reached the place.

Or what he thought was the place. Beaches were strange at night, landmarks shifted, shadows changed, the tide erased the exactness of footsteps. But he knew the curve of the shoreline, the little cluster of rocks near the back, the dark line of trees above the sand, the place where the beach opened wider before narrowing again toward the hotel district. This was close enough.

Here.

This was where he had seen her.

Lando stopped.

For a second, he only stood there with his shoes in one hand, looking at the empty stretch of sand ahead. The sea whispered to his left. The sky had gone dark now, stars scattered faintly above him, the moon pale enough to make the water shine in broken pieces.

No one was there.

Of course no one was there.

He exhaled, and the sound came out almost like a laugh.

“I'm so stupid,” he muttered.

But he sat down anyway.

The sand was cool beneath him. He pulled his knees up slightly, resting his forearms on them, shoes hanging loosely from one hand. The night pressed gently around him. It was quiet here, quieter than near the villa, quieter than near the hotels. The kind of quiet he had once found uncomfortable and now needed like air.

He did not know how long he waited.

That was the humiliating thing: he was waiting.

He could dress it up as proving Pietra wrong, as needing a walk, as saying goodbye to the place it began. But sitting there in the dark, eyes fixed again and again on the distant curve of the beach, he knew the truth. Some small, ruined part of him was waiting for magic. Waiting for her. Waiting for the impossible scene where she appeared from the night the way she had before, where she looked at him and understood, where she said his name and made the last twenty-four hours less final.

He hated himself a little for it.

He hated that he had let Pietra put the image in his head.

He hated that he wanted it badly enough to stay.

But the beach remained empty.

The universe, apparently, had no interest in being theatrical twice.

Minutes passed. Maybe twenty. Maybe more. Lando’s legs began to ache from sitting still, but he barely noticed. He watched shadows. A bird moving near the waterline. The foam catching moonlight. A palm leaf shifting at the edge of the dune. Each small movement made his heart jump and then fall again.

Eventually he rubbed both hands over his face and let out a breath that shook more than he wanted it to.

“Right,” he whispered to the empty beach. “Yeah. Of course.”

He had been right.

Pietra had been wrong.

Soulmates did not exist. Fate did not exist. Love at first sight was not proof of destiny; it was proof that people were capable of attaching meaning to accidents because meaning hurt less than randomness. He had met Valentina by chance. He had lost her by consequence. That was all.

And still, strangely, he did feel slightly less terrible.

Not good. Not even close. The pain had not left him. It sat where it had sat all day, heavy and alive. But walking here had given it space. The beach had absorbed something. Maybe because the place held the beginning as well as the end. Maybe because sitting in the sand made the memories less trapped inside his room, less looped on a television screen where she remained forever unreachable.

He stood slowly.

His legs protested. He brushed sand from his trousers, picked up his shoes, and looked once more down the empty stretch of beach.

Eventually he turned back toward the villa.

He walked slowly now, not with purpose but with the dull resignation of someone who had proved the worst thing right and did not have the energy to celebrate the victory. His thoughts drifted without order. He imagined returning to the villa, seeing Pietra’s hopeful face, telling her she had been wrong. He imagined Max’s relief that at least he had come back. He imagined the group returning later from the restaurant, with careful attempts not to mention her name.

He was so lost in it that he barely looked where he was going.

At first, when he saw the silhouette in the distance, he thought his mind had made it.

A trick of longing.

A person-shaped shadow placed there by grief because grief was cruel enough to do that. He stopped walking, heart giving one hard, painful beat against his ribs. The figure was far down the beach, moving toward him slowly along the edge of the water. The moonlight was weak, the distance too great. It could have been anyone. A tourist. Someone from one of the hotels. A woman taking a late walk. Nothing more.

Lando closed his eyes briefly.

“Don’t,” he told himself under his breath.

Don’t do this.

Don’t hope.

He opened his eyes again and the silhouette kept coming.

Closer now.

Still indistinct, but clearer with every step. Long hair moving in the wind. A familiar shape of shoulders. A slow, careful walk, not hurried, not lost exactly, but searching. His heart began to beat faster before he allowed himself to understand why.

No.

It wasn’t possible.

Of course it wasn’t her. It could not be her.

The beach was public. People walked at night. The world was full of coincidences that meant nothing.

But he stayed frozen.

The figure drew nearer.

The moonlight touched her face in pieces, he noticed dark hair. Loose, long, moving around her shoulders. A pale dress, light enough to catch the night.

The curve of her mouth.

The soft, green-brown eyes he had been seeing every time he closed his own.

Lando stopped breathing.

For one second the world went completely silent, as if even the waves had pulled back to watch.

She stopped too.

A few meters away.

Close enough now that there was no mistaking her.

Valentina stood barefoot in the sand, shoes in one hand, hair loose in the wind, face pale and tired and just as stunned as his must have been. Her eyes were red. Not swollen dramatically, but marked by crying, by no sleep, by the same kind of wreckage he had carried with him all day. She looked at him as if she had not believed in this either until the moment it happened.

Neither of them spoke.

The beach that had once introduced them held them again in silence.

Lando stared at her, unable to move, unable to think, unable to make sense of the fact that she was there. Here. In the same place. At night. Walking toward him like an answer to something he had been too afraid to call a prayer.

His hand tightened around his shoes.

Valentina’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

He should have said something.

He should have asked why she was there. Asked if she was okay. Asked if she had changed her mind, though that would have been cruel and too much and far too desperate. He should have done anything other than stand there looking at her like the universe had just proven Pietra right and ruined him all over again.

But all he could manage, in a voice barely above the sound of the water, was her name.

“Valentina.”

Her face crumpled at the sound.

And just like the first night, standing alone on the beach under a dark sky, Lando knew with absolute certainty that whatever happened next was going to change everything.

“Lando.”

Her voice was barely more than breath.

For one impossible second, the sound of his name in her mouth did not feel real. It felt like something his mind had created because grief had finally become too heavy and had started offering hallucinations as mercy. But then the wind moved through her hair, and she shifted her weight in the sand, and the moonlight caught the tired shine of her eyes.

She was there. Really there.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Lando looked at her.

He still couldn’t quite believe it. His mind kept trying to reject the image, to warn him not to build hope out of coincidence, not to let one impossible crossing erase the pain of the last day. But his body had already reacted before reason could protect him. His heart was beating too fast. His chest hurt in a new way now, not the dull crushing ache from the hotel room, but something sharper, brighter, more dangerous.

“I was just…” He stopped.

He could have told her the truth.

That Pietra had come into his room and spoken about soulmates and fate with the wild certainty of someone who believed love left signs for people brave enough to follow them. That he had come here to prove her wrong, because believing in something like that felt humiliating and desperate and childish, and he was tired of being hurt by hope. That he had sat in the sand waiting for a miracle while hating himself for wanting one.

But saying that now felt too large.

Too fragile.

Too frightening.

So he swallowed and said, “Just going for a walk.”

Valentina looked at him for a moment, as if she heard the lie inside the truth. Not a cruel lie. Not the kind that had broken them. A protective one. A small piece of privacy around something too raw to expose immediately.

“A walk,” she repeated.

“Yeah.”

“At this beach?”

He gave a faint, helpless shrug. “I like this one.”

The silence that followed held too much memory.

They both knew why.

Lando forced himself to ask before the quiet swallowed them. “What are you doing here?”

Valentina looked away first.

The wind lifted the ends of her hair, moving them across her cheek. She reached up to tuck the strands behind her ear, but her hand shook slightly. She looked tired in a way that was different from yesterday. Not only from crying, though he could see she had. Not only from not sleeping, though that was there too. This was the exhaustion of someone who had been fighting herself all day and losing in every direction.

“I was supposed to go to dinner,” she said.

“With your friends?”

“With Luisa and the girls.” She looked down at the shoes dangling from one hand, then laughed under her breath without humor. “It was important to Luisa that all of us were there. Bride thing, I guess. She wanted one normal dinner with everyone before the trip ends.”

Lando nodded, saying nothing.

“I didn’t want to go,” Valentina admitted. “But I went anyway. I thought maybe it would help. Maybe if I sat there and listened to them talk about normal things, dresses and drinks and wedding plans, I would stop thinking.”

She looked back at him then, and the honesty in her face struck him with a force that made him stand even more still.

“It didn’t help.”

He swallowed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing dramatic.” She gave a small, sad smile. “Which somehow made it worse. They were laughing. Eating. Talking. Victoria wasn’t there, thank God, but still, I couldn’t…” She stopped, pressing the fingers of her free hand briefly against her chest. “I felt sick. Like physically sick. Like if I stayed at the table one more minute, I would either cry in front of everyone or throw up.”

Lando’s face tightened with concern before he could hide it.

“So I left,” she said. “I told Luisa I needed air. She wanted to come with me, but I said no. I wasn’t feeling like taking a cab. I thought walking might help.”

“Back to your hotel?”

She nodded.

Lando went very still.

Something in his expression must have changed, because Valentina frowned faintly.

“What?”

He turned slightly, looking down the beach behind her, then in the direction she had been walking. He knew this stretch well enough now. Better than he should. Her hotel was definitely not in the direction she had been heading.

He looked back at her.

“Your hotel is that way.”

He pointed behind her.

Valentina turned.

For a moment, she just looked at the dark curve of beach, the distant lights, the low line of buildings beyond the palms. Then her face shifted with recognition.

“Oh.”

The word was tiny.

Lando almost laughed, but couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t funny, or maybe it was. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

“You were going the wrong way,” he said quietly.

The echo of the first night was so clear it might as well have been spoken by the sea itself.

Valentina turned back to him slowly.

Her face had changed, she understood it too.

The repetition. The strange impossibility of her walking the wrong way again and finding him again, on this beach, at this hour, after telling him she would not change her mind.

It was too precise to be comfortable.

Too delicate to dismiss easily.

Lando looked at her and felt the whole world narrow into this one absurd fact: twice now, Valentina had gone the wrong way and found him. Twice now, he had been somewhere he was not supposed to be, at a time he should not have been there, and yet there she was. The first time, it had begun them. The second time, it had found them after she tried to end it.

Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was everything.

Valentina glanced again behind her, then gave a shaky exhale.

“I’m really bad with directions.”

The sentence should have been light.

It came out like a confession.

Lando couldn’t answer at first. He was too afraid of what his voice might do if he tried. He had spent the whole day grieving something he thought was gone, and now she stood in front of him with bare feet in the sand and tears in her eyes, and every careful acceptance he had built in the last few hours began to crack under the weight of possibility.

He looked toward the direction of her hotel.

“Can I walk with you?”

Valentina’s gaze returned to him.

He saw the hesitation immediately. Of course he did. Only yesterday she had asked him to leave. Only yesterday she had told him they were not compatible and that she would not change her mind. Now he was standing in front of her, offering the same thing he had offered on the first night: a walk. Company. A way home.

But this time the offer was heavier.

This time they both knew exactly what walking together could mean.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then she nodded.

“Okay.”

Lando’s heart moved painfully.

“Okay,” he repeated.

They started walking.

For the first few minutes, neither of them spoke.

The silence was not comfortable, but it was not empty either. It moved beside them like a third presence, carrying all the words they were afraid to place too quickly between them. Lando kept his eyes mostly on the sand ahead, because looking at her for too long made everything in him want to reach for her. Valentina walked beside him, her shoes still in one hand, her other arm wrapped lightly around herself. The tide whispered near their feet. The night smelled of salt and warm sand and distant flowers.

Lando kept searching for words and failing.

Everything felt too important. Too dangerous. If he said too much, she might run. If he said too little, the moment might pass. If he asked whether she had changed her mind, he might force her to decide again before she was ready. If he pretended this was casual, he would be lying to them both.

So he chose the simplest thing.

“How are you feeling?”

The question sounded stupid as soon as it left him.

He almost winced.

Valentina looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“Probably just like you,” she said after a moment. “Bad.”

The honesty of it hurt and relieved him at the same time.

He nodded. “Yeah.” Then, softer, “We are two, then.”

She looked down at the sand.

They walked a few more steps.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

It was so quiet that for a second he wasn’t sure he heard it properly. The sea could have taken it. The wind could have reshaped it.

But he had heard.

He turned his head toward her. “Why are you apologizing?”

Valentina gave him a look. Not sharp. Not angry.

Just a look that said, really?

He lowered his eyes.

“You had your reasons,” he said. “I understand that.”

“Do you?”

“I’m trying to.”

“That isn’t the same.”

“No,” he admitted. “It isn’t.”

They kept walking.

Lando took a breath, choosing each word carefully. “It hurt. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t. And I still don’t think it was the right call.”

Her face tightened slightly.

“But it was your decision,” he continued. “And it came from somewhere real. Somewhere hurt. So I get it. Or at least I get enough to not blame you for being scared.”

Valentina stopped walking for half a second, then started again.

Her voice was thinner when she spoke.

“Still. I made both our lives feel like hell.”

He had no answer to that.

Not because it wasn’t true.

Because he had spent the whole day living inside that hell and still did not know how to say it without sounding like he wanted to punish her.

Valentina’s fingers tightened around her shoes.

“I was scared,” she said. “I am scared.”

Lando looked at her.

“And I panicked,” she continued. “I think that is the honest version. I can dress it as logic or maturity or protecting myself, and part of it was that, but mostly…” She swallowed. “Mostly I panicked.”

His chest tightened.

“After you left,” she said, voice breaking slightly, “I was scared you hated me.”

Lando stopped walking.

Valentina stopped too, a step ahead of him, but she didn’t look back immediately.

“I didn’t reach out because I thought you were angry at me,” she said. “And because I thought if I called, I would undo the decision before I understood why I made it. And today was horrible because I wanted to call you. Then I wanted to leave the island and forget you ever existed. Then I wanted to prove to myself I had done the right thing because I was protecting myself.”

She turned finally.

Her eyes were shining.

“I have spent years trying to think of myself first,” she said. “To not stay where I am hurt. To not make a man the center of everything again. And yesterday I thought that was what I was doing. Choosing myself.”

Lando’s throat tightened.

“But all I could think about was you.”

The words entered him so softly they almost hurt more than if she had shouted them.

He wanted to go to her. Wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was okay, he didn’t hate her, he could never hate her, he understood fear, he understood damage, he was damaged too. He wanted to apologize again, for the lie, for the way he had pushed too hard, for making something already frightening even more unstable. He wanted to tell her that maybe thinking of herself first was good, actually, and he did not want to be something that took that away from her.

But another thought rose through him instead.

Pietra’s voice.

What if you’re soulmates?

This was not the time.

This was absolutely not the time.

And yet the words came anyway, because they had been circling him since he saw Valentina’s silhouette in the distance, because the beach had turned absurdity into something that looked dangerously like evidence.

“Pietra thinks we’re soulmates.”

Valentina blinked.

For a second, the sentence hung in the air between them with such ridiculous intensity that even Lando seemed startled by having said it aloud.

He closed his eyes briefly. “Sorry.”

“What?”

“I know how that sounds.”

Valentina stared at him.

He looked down at the sand, suddenly embarrassed and too far in to stop.

“She came to my room earlier,” he said. “I was… not good.”

Valentina’s face softened with immediate pain, but she said nothing.

“I was watching videos of you dancing,” he admitted quietly. “Which is probably pathetic, but there it is.”

Her lips parted slightly.

“Max came first. Then Pietra. And she said…” He dragged a hand through his hair, laughing once under his breath because even now it sounded insane. “She said maybe we were meant to meet. That maybe it was fate or soulmates or something. And I told her she was being ridiculous because, obviously, she was.”

Valentina’s gaze did not leave him.

“She told me to come back here,” he continued. “To the beach. Around the same time we met. She said if she was wrong, you wouldn’t be here, and I could prove to her that fate is bullshit.”

He finally looked up.

His eyes were wet again, but there was something else in them too. Wonder. Fear. The fragile beginning of hope he was trying hard not to trust.

“And I didn’t believe it,” he said. “I swear I didn’t. I thought she was just trying to get me out of bed and into the shower.”

Lando looked at her, more serious now.

“I came here to prove her wrong,” he said. “And you were here.”

The wind moved between them.

“I know it doesn’t solve anything,” he said quickly, before she could retreat from the size of it. “I know it doesn’t fix my lie or your fear or the distance or the attention or any of the real problems. I know that. But it’s all I can think about right now.”

He swallowed.

“And trust me, I don’t believe in this kind of thing. Not normally.”

Valentina looked at him for a long time.

He expected her to laugh. Not out of cruelly, but because the idea was too much. He expected her to say this was exactly what she feared, that he was turning coincidence into destiny because heartbreak needed meaning. He expected her to step back, to shake her head, to remind him gently that life was not that kind.

Instead, she said, “I do.”

Lando froze.

“What?”

“I believe in those things.”

His face shifted. “Really?”

Valentina nodded slowly.

“Not all the way, maybe,” she said. “Not like everything is written and we are just puppets. But I believe some people feel right immediately. I believe sometimes you meet someone and your body knows before your mind has all the information.”

Lando stared at her.

“I believe in instinct,” she continued. “In that feeling when someone enters your life and something in you recognizes them. It’s rare. Very rare. But when it happens, I always thought that it happens for a reason.”

She gave a small, sad breath.

“Remember what I told you in the jacuzzi?”

Lando’s memory found it at once.

I’m normally never wrong when I start to like someone.

He nodded.

“You felt that with me?” he asked.

The question came out softer than he intended.

Valentina looked down, suddenly shy in a way that made his chest ache.

“Yes.”

He stopped breathing properly.

“Immediately, actually,” she said. “It was surreal. I was scared when you first came closer, obviously. A man on a dark beach at night is not exactly reassuring.”

A faint smile moved over his face despite everything. “Fair.”

“But then you spoke,” she said. “And you were careful. You looked worried without trying to own the situation. You gave me your phone without thinking. You walked with me and you didn’t make me feel stupid for being lost. You made jokes, but not to impress me. Just because you didn’t know what else to do.”

His eyes softened.

“I let you in so quickly,” she whispered. “That is not me. Not usually. Usually I take time. I watch people. I decide slowly. But with you…” She looked up at him again. “I was sure.”

The words should have healed something.

Instead, they opened another wound.

“Then why?” he asked.

Valentina’s expression tightened, but he couldn’t stop now.

“Why end it?”

Her eyes dropped again.

“Because you lied to me.”

He flinched, but nodded.

“And because when I found out, I second-guessed everything,” she said. “My instinct. My judgment. The way I trusted you. Suddenly it all felt like proof that I was wrong again. That I had imagined the feeling because I wanted it.”

“I know.”

“And then reality came back,” she said. “Your life. Your name. The attention. The articles. The girls people write about. The travel. The world champion thing.” She gave a small, broken laugh. “It scared the hell out of me.”

Lando swallowed.

“So I doubted my instinct,” she whispered. “Because trusting it had become frightening.”

He took one step closer.

Slowly, carefully.

She didn’t move away.

“What do you feel now?” he asked.

Valentina looked up at him.

There it was again, the terrible open space between them. Not the cold distance from her hotel room, not the wall she had built from realism and fear, but something more vulnerable. A question neither of them could survive answering badly.

She held his gaze for a long time.

Then she said, “I don’t know.”

His heart sank, but not completely.

Because she hadn’t said no.

“I’m still not sure,” she admitted. “You’re still… you.”

A small smile flickered through the sadness.

“Lando Norris.”

He almost smiled too.

“F1 world champion,” she added, softer.

Something passed through him then, unexpected and almost painful.

He looked at her carefully. “It feels good when you say it.”

Valentina blinked. “What?”

“That.” He looked down briefly, embarrassed by the confession. “When you say it.”

“You must be used to people saying it.”

He shook his head.

“No. It’s not the same.”

She watched him.

“When other people say it, it feels…” He searched for the word. “Heavy. Like a label. Like something I have to carry properly or I’ll disappoint everyone. But when you say it, it feels different.”

His voice lowered.

“It makes me proud.”

Valentina’s expression softened.

“I didn’t feel proud when I won,” he admitted. “Not really. I felt relieved. Maybe, because I had beaten everyone else and that part of my brain still works. But proud? Not the way people expect.” He looked back up at her. “When you say it, it feels like maybe it was something good. Something worth showing you.”

Valentina had no immediate answer.

The confession sat between them, quiet and intimate.

After a moment, she said, “I looked you up again.”

Lando went still.

“Today,” she said.

He waited.

“At first, it was just because I wanted to hear your voice,” she admitted, cheeks faintly colored even in the low light. “Which is embarrassing.”

His expression softened completely.

She looked down, almost smiling, then continued.

“I listened to interviews. Long ones. Podcasts. Things where you talked about racing, about pressure, about growing up in it, about not always feeling confident.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I started to understand more.”

Lando said nothing.

“I think I was wrong about the image of you,” she said. “Not entirely. Your life is crazy. There is a lot of noise. A lot of parties, speed, attention, people wanting things from you. But you…” She paused. “You didn’t feel like that.”

He looked at her as if afraid to breathe too loudly.

“You felt like me,” she whispered. “Lost in your own world. Lonely inside something everyone else thinks should make you happy.”

Lando’s eyes stung.

“And I felt bad,” she said. “For being wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong to be scared.”

“No. But I reduced you to the thing that scared me.”

He looked down.

Valentina stepped a little closer now.

“I had a good feeling about you from the beginning because you are a good person, Lando,” she said.

His face tightened with emotion.

“Even though you have terrible instincts sometimes,” she added.

A broken laugh escaped him.

“And make bad decisions.”

“Very bad.”

“Yes.”

He wiped under one eye with his thumb, smiling faintly despite the tears.

“But in the end,” she said, becoming serious again, “you didn’t lie about your essence.”

He looked at her.

“When I learned the truth and looked online, all my worst fears came alive at once,” she said. “I saw the version of life I never imagined for myself. I saw headlines and attention and people talking, and it felt so far from the boy I fell for that I panicked. I shut you down because I couldn’t connect those two versions.”

“And now?” he whispered.

Valentina looked at him with tears gathering again.

“Now I’m not so sure anymore.”

Lando’s lips parted.

“Of course there is still distance,” she said quickly. “And fans. And our jobs. And everything we said. I’m not pretending those things disappeared because we found each other on a beach again.”

“I know.”

“But I felt bad,” she said. “For not trusting my own feeling. For letting fear answer before I even listened to what you were saying yesterday.”

Her voice broke slightly.

“That’s why I left the dinner tonight. Because I felt sick with regret.”

Lando stared at her.

For a few seconds, he couldn’t process the words. They entered him too slowly, too impossibly, each one trying to undo a piece of the devastation he had spent the day accepting. She regretted it. She had listened to his voice. She had looked him up not to punish herself but to understand. She was here, walking the wrong way again, saying she had doubted her own instinct and maybe now she wasn’t so sure.

“Are you really thinking that?” he asked, voice barely there.

Valentina nodded.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

And that was it, the little control he had left broke.

He covered his mouth with one hand for a second, breathing hard, eyes filling too quickly to hide.

“I was sincere,” he said, the words rushing out now, fragile and desperate but less panicked than before. “Yesterday. Everything I said. I meant it.”

“I know.”

“We can take things slow,” he said. “Really slow. As slow as you need. We don’t have to decide everything. We don’t have to fix distance tonight, or the attention, or anything. We can just…” He swallowed hard. “We can just not end it.”

Valentina’s tears fell faster now.

“I can make efforts,” he continued. “Small ones. Real ones. Not impossible promises because I’m scared. Just things that make it work. I can learn what you need.”

She covered her face briefly.

“It’s not too late,” he whispered.

That was the sentence that undid her.

A sob broke from her before she could stop it.

“I was going to leave the island today.”

Lando went completely still.

“What?”

“I almost did.” Her voice broke around the confession. “I looked at flights. I packed half my suitcase. I felt so bad, Lando. I was too scared to face you, too scared that you hated me, too scared that if I stayed I would come looking for you and make everything worse.”

His chest tightened.

“I hurt you,” she cried. “I saw your face when I asked you to leave. I saw what I did, and I...”

She didn’t finish.

Lando crossed the distance between them.

He didn’t think. Didn’t ask. Didn’t try to be careful with the moment anymore because there was nothing left in him but the need to hold her before she shattered in front of him.

His arms wrapped around her, tight and immediate.

Valentina collapsed into him with a sound that broke against his chest. Her shoes slipped from her hand and fell into the sand. He held her closer, one hand at the back of her head, the other around her waist, his face pressed into her hair as if he could breathe again only there.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered.

She cried harder.

“I don’t hate you. Okay? I could never hate you.”

Her hands clutched the back of his shirt, desperate and trembling.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“Don't be, please.”

He held her tighter.

Having her in his arms again felt like being returned to his own body after a day spent wandering outside it. The pain was still there, yes, but it shifted shape around her warmth. It no longer felt like a stone crushing him from the inside. It became something alive, something that could move, breathe, maybe even change.

“You don’t have to leave,” he whispered into her hair. “Not if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head against him.

“You don’t have to decide everything tonight.”

Another shake.

“We can make this work,” he said, and this time he did not say it like a man bargaining with fate. He said it quietly, carefully, like the beginning of a promise he intended to earn. “We can try. We can stop hurting each other for five minutes and just be honest. We can take one day, then another. We don’t have to suffer just because we’re scared.”

Valentina pulled back just enough to look up at him.

Her face was wet, her eyes red and full of something trembling between fear and hope.

“What if we fail?” she whispered.

Lando brushed her tears away with both thumbs, his hands gentle on her face.

“And what if we don’t?” he asked.

The question stayed between them, soft as the tide.

Valentina looked at him, and for the first time since the hotel room, she didn’t look like she was leaving.

Lando did not let go of her immediately.

For a while, neither of them moved from where they stood on the beach, wrapped around each other in the dark as if the night itself had paused to give them time. The sea kept moving beside them, but even that sound felt softer now, less like loneliness and more like something steady enough to lean on. Valentina’s face was pressed against his chest, her fingers still gripping the back of his shirt, and Lando held her with both arms as though he had been given something back that he had already begun mourning.

It frightened him, how quickly the pain changed shape.

Only hours ago he had been lying in his room unable to breathe around the absence of her. Only hours ago he had believed the worst thing had happened and that all he could do now was survive the proof of it. Then she had appeared from the darkness like something impossible, walking the wrong way again, and now she was here, warm and real in his arms, crying softly into him while his whole body tried to understand that he had not imagined her.

He wanted to ask too much.

He wanted to ask if she meant it, if she was staying, if this was a beginning again or only a moment of weakness brought on by grief and regret. He wanted to ask if she had changed her mind fully, if she would let him prove himself, if he could call her his in any way that did not frighten her back into silence. He wanted to ask whether he was allowed to love her aloud.

But he had learned, painfully, that too much too quickly could make her run.

So instead he kissed the top of her head and asked the only question that felt safe.

“What do you want to do now?”

Valentina stayed against him for a second longer before pulling back just enough to look up. Her eyes were red and tired, still shining from tears, and the sight of her like that made the protective ache in him sharpen. He wanted to take every hard thing from her and hold it himself, even though he knew now that love did not work like that. He could not heal her by wanting it enough. He could not erase the old wounds or the new ones. He could only stand there, remain steady, and try not to become another reason she had to protect herself.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Her voice was small, but not distant.

Lando nodded. “Okay.”

She looked down between them, at the sand near their bare feet, at the shoes she had dropped when he hugged her. “I just know I don’t want to leave you.”

His chest tightened.

She swallowed. “We wasted enough time doing that.”

For a moment, he could not answer.

The sentence was not a promise. But it was enough to make the last day loosen its grip around his throat. She did not want to leave him. Tonight, that was enough.

He bent and picked up her shoes before she could, then straightened with them in one hand and his own in the other.

“We can go to the villa,” he said gently. “If you want.”

Valentina looked toward the path in the distance. “And what about your friends?”

“They’re out for dinner at a restaurant. They won’t be there for a while.”

She looked back at him, uncertain.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he added quickly. “We can eat something, or watch a film, or just… lie down. Whatever feels okay.”

Her expression softened at that. The lack of pressure seemed to reach her better than any romantic speech could have. She looked so tired suddenly that he wondered how he had not noticed it immediately. The exhaustion sat beneath her eyes, in the slower way she blinked, in the way she held herself upright as if habit rather than energy was doing most of the work.

“I’m kind of sleepy, actually,” she admitted.

Lando’s concern returned at once. “Then we can just go to sleep.”

She looked at him.

He realized, half a second too late, how intimate that sounded.

“If you don’t mind sleeping next to me, of course,” he said, and then panic immediately caught up with him. “I mean...obviously, you don’t have to. We have guest rooms. A lot of guest rooms. You can have your own space. I didn’t mean...”

Valentina watched him unravel with a tired little smile.

“There is no way I am sleeping next to you, Lando.”

He froze.

The rejection hit so quickly he barely had time to hide it. “Oh.”

Her smile grew, soft and mischievous despite the tears still drying on her face.

“There is no way I am only sleeping next to you,” she corrected. “I like to cuddle.”

Lando stared at her.

Then his eyebrows lifted. “Oh.”

She laughed quietly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a second as relief and embarrassment moved through him in equal force. “Right. Yes. No, of course. I can do that.”

“You can do that?”

“I can cuddle.”

“Good to know.”

“I’m actually very good at it.”

“Are you?”

“I’ve had great reviews.”

Her eyes narrowed, amused. “Should I be jealous?”

He went still, immediately horrified by his own joke. “No. God, no. I didn’t mean...”

Valentina laughed again, softer this time, and reached for his arm.

“You are cute when you panic.”

He exhaled, half relieved and half offended. “That’s not very nice of you to play with me like this.”

“You’ll survive.”

The humor thinned the ache between them for a moment, not erasing it, but letting air into it. Lando looked at her hand on his arm, then back at her face. The smile faded slowly from both of them, leaving behind something more serious, more fragile.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Valentina’s expression shifted. “About sleeping in the same bed?”

“About all of this.” His voice lowered. “About giving me a chance. About being with me, whatever that means right now.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around his arm.

He searched her face, trying not to show how much hung on the answer and failing completely.

“I want this,” he said quietly. “I really do. And I don’t want to scare you by being too much. I know I can be too much. I know I feel things… hard. And fast, apparently.” A shaky little laugh escaped him. “But I need you to know I’m serious.”

Valentina looked down at where she was touching him. For a few seconds, she only breathed.

Then she nodded.

“Sure isn’t the word,” she said.

His heart sank for one second before she continued.

“But I want to believe in this.”

He went still.

“In us,” she said, even softer.

Lando’s face changed.

“And I realized,” she added, her mouth trembling slightly, “that apparently I can’t live without you. Not even badly. I tried for one day and I was horrible at it.”

A painful, disbelieving smile touched his mouth. “I was worse.”

“I doubt it.”

“I cried watching ballet.”

That made her eyes soften painfully. “You did?”

He looked away, embarrassed. “A lot.”

She gave a tiny laugh, but her eyes shone again.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there because he could, because she let him, because an hour ago he had thought he might never touch her again.

“You tell me,” he murmured against her skin. “If you’re scared, or panicking, or second-guessing, you tell me. Okay? We don’t run from each other. We talk.”

She closed her eyes.

“I’ll try.”

He nodded. “And I’ll do the same. If I get too intense, or if I’m scared, or if I’m pushing too hard… I’ll tell you. Or you tell me. We’re in this together.”

Her eyes moved over his face as if she were trying to memorize the sincerity there.

“Together,” she repeated.

The word felt almost too delicate for the night.

Lando held out his hand.

Valentina looked at it, then placed hers in his.

Then tey started walking back toward the villa.

The path up from the beach felt different with her beside him. The whole world did. The grief that had followed him down to the sand did not disappear exactly, but it loosened, scattered under the relief of her presence. The emptiness in his chest filled too quickly, almost painfully, like blood returning to a limb after being cut off. He knew he had to be careful with that too. This was not fixed. Nothing about them was suddenly easy because the universe, or coincidence, or Pietra’s dramatic soulmate theory had placed them on the same beach again. The hard things were still waiting. Distance. Work. Fear. Trust. The world outside the island.

But Valentina was smiling faintly now, and her hand was in his, and Lando’s entire body responded as if some impossible mission had been accomplished.

She was here.

She was walking with him.

She had not left.

That alone made him feel as if he had been handed a future in its earliest, most breakable form.

He monitored the walk more than he meant to.

When the sand became uneven near the dunes, his hand tightened automatically around hers. When they reached a patch where shells and small stones mixed into the path, he slowed down immediately. When she glanced at him, amused, he pretended not to notice.

“You’re doing it again,” she said.

“What?”

“Being too worried I fall.”

“I’m being responsible.”

“I can walk.”

“You got lost twice, forgive me if I don’t trust your navigation skills.”

She stopped walking just long enough to stare at him.

“That was very rude.”

“It was accurate.”

She sighed, but there was a smile tugging at her mouth. “You are not as funny as you think.”

“I am funnier.”

“That is not what I said.”

He looked down at her shoes in his hand. “Do you want these back?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to take your bag too?”

Valentina shook her head, but she was smiling too. “Lando I'm fine”

The villa came into view above the beach, warm lights glowing through the windows. For a second, as they climbed the path toward it, Lando felt another flicker of disbelief. He had left that house with a heart so broken he had barely known how to carry himself. Now he was returning with Valentina beside him, her hand still in his, the night holding them like a secret.

He hoped his friends were still at dinner.

He loved them. He really did. But the thought of opening the door and having all of them stare, gasp, ask questions, crowd Valentina with relief and curiosity and joy, made him tighten slightly. This was too new. Too private. Too tender to put under anyone else’s gaze yet.

When he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, the villa was quiet.

Empty, as promised.

The silence there felt different from the silence of his room earlier. Then it had been suffocating. Now it felt like a held breath.

He opened the door wider for her.

Valentina stepped inside slowly.

For a moment she only looked around.

The living room was dim, lamps left on in corners, cushions slightly out of place, a glass forgotten on the coffee table. The villa looked lived in, not staged. Expensive, yes, but softened by the mess of friends on holiday. A hoodie on one chair. Someone’s book face down near the sofa. A pair of sunglasses abandoned near the kitchen island.

She turned back toward him.

“It’s quiet.”

“They’re out.”

“I know.” Her voice softened. “It just feels strange.”

“Bad strange?”

She shook her head. “No. Just…”

“Real?”

Her eyes met his.

“Yes.”

Lando felt that too. Having her there after the day they had lived through felt almost surreal. This was the place where he had cried in front of his friends, where he had sat watching her dance, where Pietra had dared him into movement. This was the place where she had existed only as absence for the past twenty-four hours. Now she stood in the entryway, barefoot, hair loose from the wind, eyes tired but warm, and the entire house seemed brighter for the simple fact of her being inside it.

He set their shoes near the door.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Water, please.”

He nodded and moved toward the kitchen, grateful for a task. He needed one. If he stood still too long, he would stare at her. If he stared too long, he might say something too big again. So he filled a glass with water, added ice, then hesitated and removed two cubes because he had no idea if she liked it very cold. Then he stared at the glass like an idiot before bringing it to her.

Valentina noticed.

“What take you so long?”

He handed it to her. “I don’t know how cold you like it.”

Her expression changed, softening into something that made the small absurdity suddenly matter more than it should.

“This is fine,” she said quietly.

She took a sip.

Lando leaned against the kitchen island a few feet away, trying not to stare at her and failing instantly. She looked so natural there and so out of place at the same time. A woman he had met days ago, now standing barefoot in his holiday villa after breaking his heart and handing it back to him. Her pale dress moved lightly around her legs, still carrying sand near the hem. Her cheeks were no longer wet, but her eyes still held the shine of tears.

She lowered the glass.

“You’re staring.”

“Yes.”

She smiled faintly. “At least you admit it.”

“I’m trying to be honest now.”

“That’s a good habit.”

“I’m learning.”

The smile faded into something gentler.

He pushed away from the island. “Come on. You said you were tired.”

She nodded.

They made their way upstairs together, slowly. The absence of everyone else made each step feel louder. Lando walked beside her, not touching constantly but close enough that she could reach for him if she wanted. At the top of the stairs, he led her down the hallway to his room.

The second he opened the door, he silently thanked Pietra.

The room was not perfect, but it was no longer the wreck it had been earlier. Some clothes had been picked up from the floor. The window had been opened, letting in enough night air to clear the heaviness. The bed had been straightened, not properly made but no longer collapsed under the shape of his misery. The television was off. The remote was on the nightstand. A bottle of water sat beside it. The air was breathable again.

Somehow, impossibly, Pietra had known this would matter later.

Lando made a mental note to let her be insufferable about it once. Only once.

Valentina stepped inside.

The room felt instantly more intimate.

Not because anything happened. Nothing did. She only crossed the threshold and looked around, but Lando became suddenly, painfully aware of what it meant to have her here. In his room. Alone. At night. After everything. There was no crowd, no beach, no club, no misunderstanding to hide behind. Only the two of them and the quiet shape of a bed neither of them had yet moved toward.

Tonight was not about desire.

He knew that.

He wanted her to feel safe. To rest. To sleep without fear or loneliness or the ache of the day pressing against her alone. That was the only thing that mattered.

And still, his mind betrayed him with small images: her in his bed, her hair on his pillow, her wearing one of his shirts, her waking up beside him in the morning. Not as something heated or urgent, but as something domestic and intimate enough to hurt.

Valentina turned toward him. “Do you have something I can sleep in?”

The question nearly finished him.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. “Yes. Of course.”

He went to the drawer and opened it, then paused because suddenly choosing a shirt felt absurdly important. He rejected one because it was too fitted, another because it had sponsor branding on it, another because it was too new and stiff. Eventually he pulled out his favorite soft T-shirt, dark and worn from too many washes, the one he always packed because it felt like home even when he wasn’t sure where that was.

He held it out to her.

“This one’s comfortable.”

Valentina took it carefully.

“Thank you.”

“The bathroom is there,” he said, pointing unnecessarily. “Take your time. I’ll just…”

He looked around, suddenly unsure what to do with himself.

Valentina’s mouth curved faintly. “You’ll panic quietly?”

“Probably.”

“I won’t be long.”

When she disappeared into the bathroom, Lando let out a breath and took his phone from his pocket.

There were messages from Max.

Where are you? Pietra is being weird. Please tell me you’re alive.

Lando typed carefully.

I’m back at the villa. Going to bed. Don’t bother me when you get back, I’ll be sleeping.

He stared at the message.

He did not mention Valentina.

Not because it wasn’t enormous. It was. The whole world had narrowed to the fact that she was in his bathroom putting on his shirt. But if he typed her name, even once, everything would open. Max would ask questions. Pietra would scream. Tom would demand details. Alissa would cry. The whole group would return and hover and try to see her, and Lando could not bear it. Not tonight.

Tonight belonged to the quiet, to the fragile second chance they had not yet named.

So he sent the message and put his phone on silent.

A reply came almost immediately.

Suspicious. But okay.

Lando stared at it, he almost smiled. Then he locked the phone.

The bathroom door opened.

Valentina stepped out wearing his shirt.

For a second he forgot, completely, how to breathe.

The shirt fell loose on her, soft and dark against her skin, the hem reaching mid-thigh. Her hair had been brushed quickly with her fingers and now fell in loose waves over her shoulders. Without the dress, without the shoes, without the armor of trying to hold herself together, she looked smaller somehow. Not weak. Never that. Just unguarded.

She held her own clothes folded against her chest, suddenly shy.

“Is this okay?”

Lando nodded, but no sound came out.

Valentina tilted her head. “You keep doing that.”

“What?”

“Losing the ability to speak.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not.”

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

“You give it to me.”

“I know.”

“So really, this is your fault.”

He laughed softly, and the tension eased.

He changed quickly in the bathroom, keeping it simple, trying not to stare at himself in the mirror too long because he was afraid if he did, the impossible reality of the night would catch up with him and overwhelm him completely. When he came back out in a T-shirt and shorts, Valentina was already under the sheets, sitting against the pillows, looking around his room with quiet curiosity.

He paused by the bed.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“Still sleepy?”

“Very.”

He turned off the main light, leaving only the small bedside lamp glowing. Then he slipped carefully under the sheets beside her, keeping a respectful distance at first despite the fact that every part of him wanted to be closer.

Valentina noticed.

“You’re far.”

“I’m being polite.”

“I said I like to cuddle.”

“Yes, but I am letting you decide the cuddle proximity.”

She stared at him. “The cuddle proximity?”

“It’s important.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“I’m being respectful.”

So she moved first.

She slid closer under the sheets until her shoulder touched his chest, then turned slightly into him. Lando immediately went still, as if any sudden movement might scare her off.

Valentina looked up. “You can breathe.”

“I am.”

“You are not.”

He exhaled slowly.

She smiled, then took his arm and placed it around her waist herself.

“Here,” she said.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

His hand rested carefully at her side. “And this?”

“Also okay.”

“Too tight?”

“No.”

“Tell me if...”

“Lando,” she said gently.

He stopped.

“It’s all alright.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

For a moment they only lay there looking at each other.

The world had become impossibly small. The bed. The sheets. The dim lamp. Her face inches from his. The sound of their breathing. Lando kept repeating it in his head like a prayer he was afraid to lose.

She is here.

This is real.

She is here.

This is real.

He must have whispered it without realizing, because Valentina’s expression softened.

“What?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You said something.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

He looked embarrassed. “I just… I can’t believe it.”

Her fingers found his hand under the sheets.

“I can’t either.”

He looked down at their joined hands.

She squeezed gently.

“But I prefer this version to yesterday.”

His throat tightened. “Me too.”

She was quiet for a second, then moved closer still, tucking herself under his chin. Lando held her carefully, his arm around her, his hand resting against her back. It felt unreal how naturally she fit there. How quickly his body recognized the exact shape of her against him. How the panic in his chest quieted not completely, but enough.

Then Valentina lifted her head.

Her eyes moved over his face.

He knew that look now. The hesitation before tenderness. The moment where she felt something and had to decide whether to let herself act on it or retreat behind caution.

This time, she acted.

She leaned in and kissed him, softly.

So softly at first that Lando did not react.

Not because he didn’t want to. Because the sensation stole the response from him. Her mouth against his was gentle and warm, tasting faintly of salt and water and the night. After all the distance, all the grief, all the words that had cut and healed and cut again, the kiss felt less like passion than confirmation.

Then his body caught up.

He kissed her back.

Careful, slow, his hand lifting to her face, his thumb brushing the line of her jaw. Valentina sighed softly against him and moved closer, and he held her like he was terrified she might slip away if he didn’t, but not so tightly that she would feel trapped. He had never been so aware of his own hands. Of where they rested. Of how much pressure was too much. Of how love could feel both instinctive and something he had to learn with attention.

The kiss ended because they were both tired, because the day had been too long, because even hope had weight when it returned after devastation.

Lando didn’t want it to end.

He let it.

Valentina tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin.

“You’re comfortable,” she murmured.

A laugh moved quietly through his chest.

“It’s a compliment.”

“I’ll take it.”

She shifted closer. “You can be my pillow now.”

“Does it pay well?”

“No.”

“Any benefits?”

She lifted her head just enough to look at him, eyes heavy with sleep but warm. “Cuddles.”

He smiled softly. “Sold.”

She smiled back, then settled into him again.

Lando wrapped both arms around her, careful but firm, holding her close beneath the sheets. Slowly, the room quieted around them. Her breathing began to even out first, the tension leaving her body in small degrees. His followed after, finding the rhythm of hers and matching it without thought.

For a while, he stayed awake.

Not because he was afraid now, because he wanted to remember.

The weight of her against him. The smell of his shirt on her skin. The dim light on the wall. The peace that had returned not as certainty, but as a fragile permission to try. He knew tomorrow would come with questions. His friends. Her fears. His own. The reality of their lives still waiting beyond the island.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she had found him again.

Tonight, for the first time since the hotel door closed, Lando let himself believe that maybe endings were not always endings.

Sometimes they were only the place where frightened people stopped running long enough to turn around.

He pressed one last kiss into her hair.

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered.

She was already almost asleep, but her fingers tightened faintly against his shirt.

And with that tiny answer held against his chest, Lando closed his eyes too.

Let me known if you want to be add to the taglist !

Taglist : @shawnscurlz @fracturedmoonlightsea @fuckingsimp4azriel @f1norris04 @anaylen01 @8delirium8-blog @stillflicker @moonlight52moonlight @8delirium8-blog @anaylen01 @f1norris04 @fuckingsimp4azriel @misssmalik28 @carolina002 @withloveathens @ellesssssxzxz @mayax2o07 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @heartcandyslxt @marvolos @noneedtoaskhesasmoothoperatorr @midnightmax

@clovermoters @likedbygaslyy @esw1012 @pitstop-piastri @formulawonfan @f1norris4000 @stellalillie2008 @foreverln1 @liv1209 @yatta-exe @lolaiscrying @wakdjenwowj @nickie-amore @a-new-chapter-a-new-beginning @the-madness-underneath-the-stars @jessy-didgy @lanoe444 @cattheratsblog @imprettyhaeun @nusaa99 @luc1a81 @prisciliamunoz @okayarkay @l444ndojpg @cmleitora

@astiacx @taiibitch18 @waffles2007 @retiredpieceofshits @thegirlinblackgreensilver

@hpkylef @bbymarie481 @franiestt

@prfeather @her-blood @anyasthoughts @her-blood @elegantoutpostspire @ts1mp0ne

[motorsportbarbie13]

wonderland - part six - ln1

pairing -> lando norris x quadrantPRdirector!reader

summary -> You’ve always been a rule follower. When a PR nightmare forces you into a fake relationship with your close friend and colleague, Lando Norris, you protect your heart the only way you know how: with strict rules written down in a notebook.

But lines quickly blur into a messy tangle of feelings neither of you can control. What started as a temporary fix to protect Lando’s public persona suddenly feels entirely too real. Now, you’re left wondering how much you're willing to sacrifice for the boundaries you insisted on. Falling for your best friend is inherently messy, and it scares you to death. How long can you pretend that getting lost in wonderland won't drive you both mad?

warnings -> fake dating. 2 idiots in love who suck at communicating. a wild magui appearance or two. Use of YN (I know, I’m sorry but it couldn’t be avoided!) timeline/race schedule is ambiguous and a bit hand wavey. Just go with it.

msb yaps -> i can't believe this is the last part of this series. i am so attached to this storyline its crazy. i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did! as always, thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl for keeping me from jumping off a ledge and beta reading. gonna try keeping a tag list for this series, so lmk if you want to be on it. otherwise, you can follow @the-msb-library & turn on notifs there so you don't miss anything! divider from @somebitchprobably-graphicdump <3

chapter word count -> 5.9k

series master list | main master list | lets yap

“So it was all a lie?” Emma gapes at you from over her wine glass, aghast at what you’d just told her. 

Swirling the wine around in your own glass, you nod slowly, “It was all fake from beginning to end. Magui wouldn’t leave him alone and I joked about hiring a Swedish model to pretend to be his girlfriend for a while and it just kind of spiraled from there.” 

There were plastic containers of salmon rolls and spicy tuna crispy rice scattered on your coffee table, the soy sauce packets pooling in a messy pile in one of the lids next to a bottle of near-empty merlot. It was not long after you’d walked away from Lando and that devastatingly quiet hotel room in Spain. At first, you’d tried to handle the aftermath of what had happened by yourself, not wanting to bring any of your friends into it. 

You were still nervous about people finding out it was fake and going to the press. There was one exception to your concerns though: Emma. She’d been in your corner so many times, you had felt guilty telling her the lie from the start. 

The moment she’d answered your call earlier that evening, your voice still hoarse from the crying you’d done over the last 24 hours, she’d dropped everything, picked up sushi and wine, and had been at your flat without a second thought. 

Now, she was curled up on the opposite end of your sofa, wide eyed as she listened to you spill all of the secrets you’d been keeping since you’d agreed to the disaster of a PR stunt back in Miami. 

“So the kiss after his win? All of the very public PDA? The Instagram posts and comments…” Emma lists, incredulous. She was holding her wine glass halfway to her lips like she was too stunned to move. “All if it was fake? To throw Magui off the scent and get her to leave him alone?” 

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “None of it was real.” 

Emma watches you for a moment, her eyes narrowed as if she’s trying to put together a puzzle that’s got her confused. Tilting her head to the side, she frowns at you, “Okay, so if it was all fake, then what’s the problem?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Leaning forward, Emma places her empty wine glass onto the coffee table before she turns back to you. There’s a ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You called me crying, babe! You don’t cry, ever! I think I can count on one single hand the amount of times I’ve seen you cry and 3 of them happened when you had to retake that calculus class in uni —” 

“That syllabus was too advanced for a calc one class!” You protest. 

Emma rolls her eyes and continues, “If it was all fake, why do you look like a five year old who just learned Santa isn’t real?” 

Your chest aches, confronted by a question you didn’t want to say out loud. “I’m just exhausted.” You lie. “The constant travel, having to have that perfect, camera ready mask in place at all times, his crash —” 

“You’re in love with him.” 

Emma wasn’t asking a question.

It was a simple observation made by one of your closest friends, someone who knew you inside out and could read you like a book. You don’t know why you’d bothered hiding the truth from her, pretending that you didn’t have feelings for Lando in front of Emma was never going to work. 

Maybe you hadn’t intended on lying to her. 

Maybe you had needed someone to call you out because you were too afraid to face the truth yourself. 

“Yeah.” You say softly, choking on the single word that feels raw and broken. You set your glass down before you could spill it, your hands are shaking so bad, and pull your knees up to your chest, burying your face against your legs. “Yeah, I am. I am completely, hopelessly in too deep with him, Em. Which is exactly what we didn’t want to happen. This wasn’t supposed to ruin us.”  

Emma’s expression softens as she reaches over to stroke her hand over your hair. Before she can reply, you force yourself to sit up straight, blinking back the hot tears that threatened to spill over. You swipe at your eyes, shaking your head. 

“It doesn’t matter though.” You continue quickly, forcing your voice to be calmer than you can possibly feel, that defensive wall sliding back into place in a matter of seconds. “It literally doesn’t matter. Lando never felt the same way. This was just pretend for him, a way to get Magui to back off. None of it was real and I was stupid enough to fall for the pretense of it all.” 

Emma stays quiet for a long beat, studying the frantic way you’re trying to rationalize your own heartbreak into something that makes sense. Reaching across the sofa, she gently wraps her hand around your wrist before giving it a little tug to get your attention. 

“YN.” She says quietly, waiting until you look at her with watery eyes. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” 

Austria was, objectively, a disaster. Though, not on track. On track, Lando topped the timing sheets for two of the three practice sessions and ended up P2 behind George when all was said and done. He had a good haul of points that brought him closer to the fight for third with the two Ferrari boys so in all honesty, Lando should have been happy with how the weekend had turned out. 

Instead, he was miserable. 

Racing in Austria was the first weekend since Miami that you weren’t around and Lando was distressed to find out how unmoored he felt without you in the paddock. He found himself looking for you in the crowd as he got out of the car, caught himself reaching for his phone to text you when an engineering meeting kept him late. By the end of the weekend, he’d spent a stupid amount of time staring at your contact photo in his phone, alternating between talking himself out of calling you and getting angry with how he’d somehow blown whatever it was that had started blooming between you. 

After Austria, Lando flew straight back to London to start prepping for Silverstone. He couldn’t focus on much though, what with everything kept reminding him of you. By the middle of the week, Lando was in a miserable mood that everyone around him noticed, especially Max Fewtrell.  

It was well past midnight and the relentless, rhythmic clicking of the controller was the only sound Lando had made in the last 45 minutes. In the dim light of Max's living room, he sat on the couch taking out his aggression on whatever unsuspecting opponent tried to virtually kill him.

The glowing light of the TV casts sharp shadows across Lando’s exhausted face as Max slid his gaze over to his best friend. On the screen, his Call of Duty character runs blindly into a sniper’s line of sight for the fourth time in a row, resulting in another immediate, violent death. 

“Fucks sake!” Lando snaps, tossing the controller onto the coffee table in front of him with enough force that it goes bouncing across the smooth surface. Sitting back, he aggressively shoves his hands through his curls, his jaw so tight he was starting to get a migraine. 

Beside him, Max slowly lowers his own controller before turning his head to gape at his best friend. He’d been putting up with this exact behavior for the last two hours and he was ready to snap.

Lando had arrived at his flat under the pretense of ‘blowing off some steam before the madness of Silverstone started’ but instead, he’d brought a suffocatingly broody cloud of misery into the apartment with him. He was snappy, his reaction time was abysmal and he was being a complete asshole to anyone who joined the game. 

“Okay, seriously. You’ve been a miserable bastard since you walked through the door.” Max asks, completely abandoning the game. He shifts on the sofa, crossing his arms as he glares at Lando. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Lando doesn’t look at him, reaching for his water bottle on the coffee table instead. “I’m not a miserable bastard. I’m tired. Between the crash in Spain, then Austria and now with Silverstone coming up, this season is sucking the life out of me.” 

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. You’ve had worse seasons before and you’ve never acted like this.” Max calls his bluff, knowing that there’s something else lurking underneath the surface with Lando. “Did you and YN have a fight? Because I swear to God if you fuck it up with her so bad that she quits, I am going to sue you for emotional distress.”  

Clearly, Max had noticed how you hadn't been around since Spain, choosing to work from home instead of coming into the office. You’d missed Austria too, which was strange since you had told him you had planned on going to all of the European races just a few weeks ago. It wasn’t like you to go MIA for so long. 

The mention of your name has Lando’s chest seizing so painfully, he rubs at his sternum with the heel of his hand. 

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He groans, burying his face in his palms. 

He’d been tied together with a flimsy piece of string since Spain and it was all unraveling right in front of his eyes. The weight of the last few weeks were finally catching up to him and being so close to you but not having any reason to see you was short-circuiting his brain. 

“It was all fake.” 

Max blinks at him, mouth dropping open. “I’m really hoping I misheard you because I swear you just said ‘it was all fake.’” 

Lando looks up and for a moment and Max is caught off guard with how utterly wrecked his best friend looks.

“That’s exactly what I said. The entire thing was fake. We…” He pauses, shaking his head, “I came up with the idea in Miami after Magui showed up as a way to get her off of my back. She was trying to get back with me by any means necessary and I didn’t think I had any other choice.” 

For several very long, agonizing seconds, Max just stares. Then, he lets out a loud, incredulous laugh. “You’re fucking kidding me. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” 

“I’m not joking!” Lando snaps, looking at Max with a defensive sort of panic in his eyes that has Max snapping his mouth shut. “We thought that if we convinced Magui that I had moved on that she would leave me alone. YN insisted on rules and then the lines got blurry and…” He shakes his head, not really knowing exactly where it all went off the rails. “I don’t know when it happened but somewhere along the line, I fell for her. Hard.” 

Max shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What the hell happened then? If you fell for her, why are you so miserable?” 

“Remember that stream before Spain where she was in my lap the whole time?” 

Max snorts, “How could I forget? I’m still getting TikTok edits of that bloody stream on my FYP.” 

Lando leans back against the sofa, closing his eyes. “Afterwards, I went on and on about how it was going to piss Magui off and how real it was going to make us look.” Max groans. “I was a coward, okay? I didn’t want to admit that I had feelings for her because I didn’t want her to call the whole thing off!” 

“That makes no fucking sense, you knob.” 

Lando stands, throwing his arms out wide, “I know that!” He shouts. “I know that.” He says, repeating himself quieter the second time as he shoves his hands through his curls again. 

Lando starts to pace like a caged animal. 

“And then the crash in Spain happened and she completely lost it when I got back from the med center. I realized I didn’t just have feelings for her, I realized that I am completely in love with her.” He swallows the massive lump of regret that sits in his throat. “But she was already packing her bags. She had already booked a flight back to London without telling me. I just…froze. I didn't know how to tell her it wasn't a game to me anymore without looking like a pathetic idiot. So I just let her walk away and now she thinks I was faking it the entire time.” 

Max stares at him with a completely dumbfounded expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to pick up the controller and throw it straight at Lando’s forehead. Shaking his head, Max stands so he’s eye level with his best friend. 

“You,” Max jabs Lando’s chest with his index finger. “Are an absolute idiot.” 

“Thanks, mate. Really helpful.” Lando grits out, crossing his arms over his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. 

“Oh, shut up." Max barks. “I’ve watched you two the last few months since Miami. I’ve been on streams with you and in meetings. I saw the way she looked at you after you won Monaco, talked to her after your crash in Spain. She was a total mess, Lando. That reaction? That can’t be faked. The way she looked up at you during that stream? Like you’d hung the stars in the sky? Come on mate, you can’t tell me that she’s not totally head over heels for you too. Are you really that blind?” 

Lando stops his pacing, his breath catching in the back of his throat as Max’s words drilled their way through his chest. 

“She’s hurting because you made her think it was a game and she realized in Spain that she was in love with you too.” Max shakes his head as he walks towards the door where Lando’s keys sit abandoned on the entryway table. “She ended things because she got scared and thought that you didn’t have feelings for her.” 

He tosses the set of car keys straight at Lando’s chest, “And here you are sitting in my flat being a broody asshole while she’s less than 15 minutes away in her apartment thinking she’s alone in this.” Max levels a glare so heated, Lando would’ve been burnt to a crisp had looks could set fire to something. 

Lando says nothing. He can’t. 

“God, you’re so fucking dense sometimes! Stop pouting and go tell her the truth, you bloody idiot.” 

The muffled, rhythmic tapping of rain against your apartment windows was the only sound keeping you company at one in the morning. You’d long forgotten to remind Netflix that you were still “watching” whatever trashy reality tv show you’d turned on hours ago, so it had gone mute some time ago. You were sitting on your living room rug, back braced against the foot of the couch as your laptop hummed on the coffee table. 

There were papers spread around you in a chaotic semi-circle of half-organized thoughts and lists, something that only you could understand. You’d spent the last few days after getting back from Spain burying yourself in mountain of work. It was a desperate, pathetic attempt to keep your brain from drifting back to your conversation with Emma earlier in the week. 

Are you absolutely sure that Lando didn’t have feelings for you? 

It was a question that was too uncomfortable for you to sit with because if you were wrong, if you started to think that maybe there was a chance and there wasn’t? You’d be destroyed all over again. You’d spent the entire time since leaving Lando in that hotel room in Spain building up your walls again, perfecting the professional mask that you’d need when you saw him that weekend. There was no way you’d survive another Spain. 

Your eyelids are beginning to droop and you’re contemplating wrapping things up for the night when the jarring, aggressive buzz of your building’s intercom sends your pulse skyrocketing. 

You freeze, staring over your shoulder at the offending intercom as it buzzes to life again. It was pouring rain outside and well past midnight. You weren’t expecting a delivery, not at this hour. Emma was with her boyfriend tonight, your parents at their home in the outskirts of London. 

Leaving the mess you’d made over the last several hours on the floor, you push yourself up and make your way to the intercom that’s still frantically buzzing. 

“Hello?” 

“YN. It’s me. Can you let me up?” Lando’s voice crackles through the speaker, sounding incredibly raw, slightly out of breath, and entirely unraveled. 

Your stomach does a somersault over itself as you stare at the speaker. Without even thinking, you hit the ‘open’ button and within thirty seconds, there’s a heavy, desperate knock echoing against your front door. 

The moment the door swings open, the breath leaves your lungs entirely. 

Lando was standing in the dim hallway looking like he’d run through the storm that was raging outside. He was soaking wet in an oversized black hoodie and dark sweatpants. His hair was a wild, damp disaster from the rain, curls plastered against his forehead at all sorts of odd angles.

It was his face that made your chest ache though. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, shadowed with a deep sort of exhaustion you’d never seen on him before. 

He doesn’t wait for an invitation, doesn’t stay in the hallway waiting for you to find your tongue. Lando steps right across the threshold into your apartment, his presence instantly consuming the small entryway as he brings the scent of rain, the cold air, and his familiar cologne into your space. 

Desperately trying to protect the walls you’ve built, you take a few steps back towards your sofa, ignoring the hurt that flashes in his expression when you move away from him. 

“Lando, what are you doing here?” You stutter, your hands shaking “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?” He chokes on a laugh, shaking his head. “Everything is wrong! I haven't slept in days. I just lie there, staring at empty spot in my bed that's supposed to be yours, trying to figure out how the hell I managed to ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

For a moment, you’re convinced you’ve fallen asleep and this is a dream. There was no way that Lando was actually in your apartment in the middle of the night saying the things that had just come out of his mouth. Your pulse hammers at your throat as you try to understand what was happening. 

“What are you saying, Lando?” You ask, utterly confused. 

Lando takes a step towards you and for once, you don’t shy away. 

“I’m saying that this…” Lando gestures between your body and his, looking at you with wild eyes. The shadows betraying how truly wrecked he’s feeling. “That us being together hasn’t been fake for a really long time and I’m tired of pretending that what happened between us was just a stupid PR stunt that meant nothing to either of us.” 

“But that night in your apartment, after Max’s stream?” Lando’s face crumples but you continue, needing to say what you’ve been ruminating on for weeks now. “You were so excited about how good we were going to look on socials. How much it was going to piss her off and make her realize that you were done with her.” 

Lando shakes his head, taking one more tentative step towards you. You stiffen but don’t move away and he takes that as a win. Reaching out, his hands hover for a moment, as if he’s trying to work up the courage to touch you. After a moment, his hands settle on your hips.

He nearly cries when you don’t shy away from him.

“I lied.” He confesses roughly, the rasp in his voice scratching down your spine. “I was afraid if I told you the truth, you’d end it because we’d agreed on no feelings, we agreed that we didn’t want it to get messy. I just…couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you and if a pretend relationship with you was the only way I'd get to keep you, then I was going to do whatever it took to make sure I didn't lose you before it was time.” 

“Lando…” 

He shakes his head fiercely, one hand coming up to frame your face. “No, please YN. Let me get this out, okay? I’ve been miserable and spinning in circles since I let you walk out that hotel room and I just…I’m not good with words, you know that so can you give me a minute?” 

You nod, the words you’d been prepared to say dying in yoir throat.  

“I’ve been drowning since you left me in that hotel room. When my car hit the wall on Friday and everything went black, I wasn’t thinking about the team or the race or anything else. I was thinking about you. I was terrified that if I didn’t get out of that car in one piece, I’d never get to see you look at me again. I was scared and beyond pissed at myself that I'd almost broken my promise to come back to you in one piece."

“Lando…” You choke out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes hot and sudden as the gravity of what he’s saying crashes over you. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

“I have never meant anything more in my entire life, baby.” He murmurs fiercely, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulls you closer, your bodies touching. “No more lies. No more rules. I want all the strings and all the mess, everything that comes with loving you. I am completely and hopelessly in love with you."

The realization that you didn’t have to protect yourself anymore, that the man you loved was standing in front of you in your apartment, his heart bleeding out in front of you, causes your remaining armor to completely shatter. 

A soft, broken sob falls from your lips as you grasp at the neck of his hoodie, pulling Lando towards you so your noses are almost touching. You're not entirely sure who closes the final gap but when Lando covers his mouth with yours, you feel it all the way down to your toes.

The kiss is explosive. It's fierce and desperate, a collision of lips and teeth and tongue that had been building since he’d knocked on your door. Its not gentle, nothing about you two was gentle or calm. It’s fueled by the lingering trauma of his crash, the agony of the time you’d spent apart, and the overwhelming, intoxicating relief at finally finding your way back to each other. 

Lando lets out a log, jagged groan against your mouth, one hand sliding up your spine to cup the back of your head. His grip on you is so strong, you knew there would be bruises blooming on your skin by the morning. He fists a handful of hair, tugging it so your throat is exposed as he presses his lips down the line of your jaw before sucking at that delicate skin of your neck. 

It felt like he was trying to pour every piece of his soul into your chest. 

When Lando finally pulls back, just a fraction and only to catch his breath, he rests his forehead heavily against yours while your brain tries to catch up to what just happened. Tracing a thumb down your damp cheeks, his ocean eyes drinking in the way you sigh against him.  

“Tell me I’m not the only one. You feel it too, right?” He begs, his voice dropping into that quiet, rumbling tone that he used when you two were sharing a bed. “Please tell me I haven’t completely ruined us.” 

You let out a wet, breathless laugh as your hands slide down over his shoulders to grip at the fabric of his hoodie, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing left in the universe.

"I lost my mind when you went into that wall.” Lando shudders, pulling you closer. “I was so panicked when Will couldn’t get you to respond to him. My first thought was ‘Oh my God, I can’t live without him’ and then I remembered our final rule and I knew I needed to end it, to protect myself.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lando asks roughly. 

You shake your head, “I didn’t want to take the risk if it meant knowing you didn’t feel the same way. It would have ruined me.” 

Lando draws in a deep, shaky breath. “You think I didn’t feel the same way? With the way I kissed you when I won Monaco? The way I drug you into the dark corner of that palace ballroom? You think I wasn’t completely head over heels for you with the way you folded into me at night and how it felt like the most natural thing in the whole world to wake up with you in my arms?”  

The heavy, frantic tension that had dictated every movement since he burst back into your life finally breaks, melting into something deep and entirely soul consuming. Lando reaches for your hands, lacing his fingers with yours as he tugs you towards your sofa. He pulls you down onto his lap, his arms slipping around your middle as he brings you impossibly closer, like he can’t stand if there’s an inch of space between you. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne that mixes with the damp scent of outside. 

“God, you have no idea.” Lando murmurs, his voice exhausted and gravelly. “Every time I had to get into the sim this week, every time Will or Jon tried to talk to me…all I could see was you walking away from me in that hotel. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t sleep. Zak asked me twice if I needed another med check for a concussion or something worse. I almost told him I just needed my fake girlfriend to stop treating me like a stranger and I’d be good.” 

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you bump your nose with his. The last remnants of the heavy knot that had been tied up in your chest since Spain finally comes completely untied. Sliding your hands up his chest before interlocking your fingers behind his neck, you pull him closer to you. 

“You were the one who kept talking about optics, Lan.” You remind him softly, though there’s no heat in the accusation. “You made it pretty clear after that stream that you were thrilled to slap Magui in the face with how successful our fake relationship looked from the outside.” 

Lando’s expression turns panicked in a flash. “I was terrified, YN.” He admits, the confession raw and honest. His fingers dig into your hips as if he was afraid you were going to slip away again. “I was so afraid that if you got even the slightest inkling that I was falling for you, you’d end the entire thing. I couldn’t stomach the thought of not having you around anymore, of not being able to kiss you whenever I wanted and I panicked.” 

He ducks his head, dropping a quick kiss on your temple, his pupils blown wide. “I didn’t care about Magui or what she thought we were doing. I just wanted an excuse to hold you in front of thousands of people and not have to explain why I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.” 

The honesty of his confession strips away the very last dregs of your doubts. You look up at him, this chaotic, brilliant, boyish driver who had completely upended your orderly, professional life, and finally realize that you were entirely past the point of no return. 

“Well,” You whisper, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, “Maybe next time you should let me be in charge of deciding how we’re going to approach the PR strategy, yeah?” 

Lando huffs a quiet laugh, mouthing at the soft, warm spot behind your ear that smells like your perfume.

“That’s one rule I can follow.” He pulls back, looking at you seriously now. “But the others? All of those stupid fucking rules are getting tossed out the window, got it?” 

You close your eyes, nuzzling deeper into his chest as Lando pulls you deeper into his chest. For a moment, you listen to the steady thrum of his heart beneath your ear before you tilt your head back just a touch so you can look at him, “Got it.” 

lando posted!

1,308,208 likes liked by its_yn, emma_fairchild, max_fewtrell and others lando for keeps this time🧡 (tagged: its_yn) emma_fairchild can i like this one million times??? be nice to my wife, @/lando or else i'll come for you >>>its_yn you'd better listen to her babe, emma is scary >>>lando no plans on letting you go anywhere, pretty girl max_fewtrell thank GOD its_yn xox >>>lando love you, bunny 🐰❤️ >>>its_yn omg user002 THE SHADE AT MAGUI I AM LIVING FOR IT >>>user21 omg i can't >>>user556 this is the best day EVER user12 M is never going to show her face around the f1 paddock ever again >>>user216 and thank god for that user005 fave couple everrrr

August, 2026 

The rhythmic crashing of ocean waves swelling against the shore made you feel like you were a light years away from the chaos of your real lives.

You and Lando were spending summer break in Bali where the afternoon heat was thick and golden as it slipped by slow as summertime honey . The sun was in the middle of its slow descent towards the horizon, painting the tropical sky in bruised shades of peach and violet and for the first time in what felt like forever, you and Lando had nothing to do but be present. 

You stir slowly, your face pressed against the soft, sun-warmed skin of Lando’s bare chest. A warm breeze swept across the private beach, rustling the palm fronds overhead as it cooled the light sheen of sweat on your body, sending goosebumps pebbling across your skin. 

You blink your eyes open slowly, taking a slow, deep breath. For a moment, all you can hear is the sound of the ocean accompanied with Lando’s even breathing beneath you and for once, you’re not immediately reaching for your phone to check for any urgent emails or PR emergencies. Gone is that deep-seated anxiety and drive to check to make sure nothing was metaphorically on fire. You're pleasantly surprised that the feeling has been replaced with an overwhelming, heavy sense of peace. 

You were entirely tangled up in Lando, who was still fast asleep next to and beneath you all at once. One of his legs was hooked over your waist, keeping you securely pinned against him in the woven hammock. He was wearing nothing but a pair of swim shorts, his skin bronzed from a week in the tropical sun. His chest rose and fell in a slow, deep rhythm that gave away how completely relaxed he was in a way you rarely saw during the season. 

One of his arms was looped tightly around your waist, his hand resting flat against your hip, fingers tucked beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms. His other hand was loosely tangled in your hair, fingers resting against your scalp like he was afraid to let you go even in his sleep. 

Waking up from a post-swim nap in his arms had become your absolute favorite routine of summer break. One that you were going to sorely missed once you both had to go back to the real world. 

A soft smiled pulls at your lips as you shift just an inch, reaching to trace a gentle line down the center of his chest with one finger.

It was entirely surreal to think back to that stormy night in London a few months ago. It felt like it had been a lifetime since you had spent your life hiding behind rigid rules, terrified of loving the man you found yourself tangled up in now, the very thing that now felt as natural as breathing. 

The small movement had Lando’s grip on your hip tightening. He lets out a soft, low rumble in the back of his throat as his eyelids flutter open to reveal those brilliant, ocean-colored eyes you adore, a sleepy and content expression finding its way across his face as he fully wakes. 

“Hi.”  He whispers, his voice thick and deep from sleep, the rough rasp of it scratching pleasantly against your skin. He doesn’t even blink against the bright evening light, just immediately ducks his head to press a kiss, warm and lazy, to your temple. “You’re awake.” 

“Not for long.” You murmur, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him with wide eyes. “You were dead to the world. I think you were snoring a bit, actually.” 

“Liars get left on the beach.” He teases, huffing a quiet laugh as he gently fists a handful of your hair to tug your head back just enough so he could look into your eyes. The playful moment melts away in a fraction of a second, quickly replaced by Lando looking at you with an expression so intensely soft and steady it made your heart flutter. "How long do we have until we have to go back to reality?” 

“Another full week.” You remind him, grin splitting your face as he brushes his lips against your forehead. “No emails. No engineering meetings. Just us.” 

Lando lets out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders sinking deeper into the hammock as he pulls you up his body until your lips were just inches away form his. Reaching up with his thumb, he gently traces the line of your lower lips before you take the finger between your lips, biting down softly with a heated expression that has his hips rolling against you.

“Good.” He says, pupils blown wide as he drinks in the sight of your sun-flushed face. “Because I don’t ever want to take this for granted. I know how terrified you were a few months ago. I didn’t make things easy for us at the start.” He pauses, fingers smoothing over your cheekbone as he looks at you with a softer expression, something that looks a lot like deep, all consuming devotion. “Thank you. For taking a chance on us. For not running when I acted like a fucking fool and almost put an end to us before we really got started.” 

Your heart melts completely, a soft, sincere smile tugging at your lips as you lean into his palm. “Best risk I’ve ever taken.” 

“I love you.” Lando murmurs, the words tumbling form his chest with such absolute certainty, your chest aches "So much it’s insane. I am entirely hopeless without you.” 

“I love you too, baby.” You reply, lacing your fingers behind his neck so you can pull him down that final inch. 

Lando smiles against your mouth as he captures your it in a slow, lingering kiss that sets your skin on fire. It tastes like salt and sunshine, a steady sort of confidence that you’d never experienced before. He holds you impossibly close as the waves crash on the shore nearby, the golden tropical sun setting on the horizon, leaving you both exactly where you were always meant to be: together. 

its_yn posted!

1,398,218 likes liked by lando, emma_fairchild, mclaren and others its_yn out of office 🧡 lando we're never leaving. someone send an email to @/zakbrownCEO that i quit >>>zakbrownCEO absolutely not, i expect you back at the MTC on time >>>lando you're no fun boss user94 what a dreamy life >>>user441 seriously. so envious

tag list:

@lanpastry @jvngw0nlvr @harrysdimple05 @givcd @waffles2007 @fastandcurious16 @treebranch23 @emma-manuhpe @s0fishticated @otra-chica-0 @originaldaughterofagun @thecharlson @esw1012 @teti-menchon0604 @marz9714 @nicilly @abilovesbooksandf1 @jeonzll @adelaidehawthorne17 @oscarsintermediates @lukewearingbeanies @carey86 @guaaafiiburg @nickie-amore @skylandori @hwyfar-gwen @graydolan12

[piastrocious]

loveee loveee this series so much !!!

[softosc]

a fic where oscar is a beekeeper and gets a call out to someone's home with an intense swarm and when he gets there for the removal the bees are like... different and nothing he's ever seen before.

so he completes his job and gets in touch with an entomologist and once he hangs up the phone, oscar realises he may just sound like a fool for being super excited about possibly finding a new species of bee in this day and age. but the entomologist sounds just as excited and tells him to come in with his findings asap

so he meets lando, the entomologist, and oh fuck he's hot. and oscar spirals all over again hoping that he really doesn't look like a fool right now but lando just welcomes him with a happy smile that immediately relieves oscar of any worry about being a bother.

so they get to business in their discovery but not without mundane work chats, insufferable insect jokes and unintentional flirting and—

oh, lando says suddenly with the most gorgeous wide eyes that sparkle with something so incredibly invigorating. it is a new specimen he's never come across before.

and everything just got a whole lot more exciting.

so lando tells him he'll stay in touch with oscar on what's to come next, because they may have just written a new part of history together on this random tuesday afternoon. they do stay in touch and at first it's quick updates regarding the start of extended research in very professional emails.

but one day lando asks oscar for his phone number and then calls him—saying the chance that this is a whole new species is looking quite likely. and with that they decide that texting each other is much better than waiting 2 business days for replies via email. and with that, of course it leads into conversations that are nothing about the bee research at all.

eventually the news comes that yes, they've discovered a whole new species. and holy fuck that's... awful? because it's over.

and oscar realises waking up to a new text message from lando each day about the research, or about his breakfast, or about this cute ass dog that he saw on his run that morning is something he's not ready to let go of simply because the main reason they met and talk is... done.

so he sits on that reality for a bit only because he is scared to make a move. because he doesn't want to look like the fool who got feelings for some guy who was just doing his job and only stayed in touch to be friendly.

lando gives oscar the honour of naming the species anything he wants. oscar hands lando the honour back, hoping that that might mean more than it seems. but it doesn't. because telling an entomologist that he has a choice of naming a species he spent a god forsaken time researching does not equal making a move in anyone's books.

then the official research and documentation is released.

piastrii — lando named the new species after oscar.

it doesn't go unnoticed. but it's painfully dumb that it takes oscar a very long time to realise that lando did that because he has feelings for oscar.

it takes them a hot minute to reconnect again after the research discovery. but it happens. and feelings are confessed and love blooms alongside spring flowers that the bees love to drown themselves in.

and in the future, lando loves to remind oscar that he was never a fool for being excited about his discovery that brought them together but he was definitely a fool for not realising lando had feelings for him all along.

hehe sorry also idk how insect research works bc im just a shit talker

[piastrocious]

this is vvv canon

[vetckkie]

girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'