I decided that I would publish stories from this universe here, but first, a post-introduction to the characters
parents:
Lando Norris - alpha, fashion magazine editor-in-chief, the smell of citrus and the sea, adores his family
Oscar Piastri-Norris - omega, Carlos Sainz Jr. "s racing engineer at McLaren, the smell of milk chocolate, never regretted calling the cute alpha after one of the races, papa of five.
children:
Olive Norris-Piastri - omega, the smell of peach, 14 years old, Oscar's appearance, but Lando's eyes and curls, the character is also more like Lando's: a mischievous and funny girl, ready for adventures. is engaged in drawing. very sociable, many, many friends. date of birth: March 21 (aries)
Leo Norris-Piastri - alpha, the smell of rain, 10 years old, a little daddy's tail, Lando's appearance, but with Oscar's eyes. The character is more Oscar-like: calm and polite boy, quiet but with a huge competitive spirit. A very independent and ageless adult, he constantly helps his dad with the rest of the children. professionally engaged in tennis. introverted. date of birth: October 26 (scorpion)
Matteo/Teo Norris-Piastri - alpha twin, the smell of coniferous forest, 6 years old, visually a mixture of both parents' appearance, dark skin, Oscar's hair, eyes and a gap between the teeth like Lando's, is hyperactive in nature, has too much energy, is very curious and chatters a lot. nowhere without his twin brother, the eldest of the two. constantly brings animals home, and no one knows where he finds them. engaged in swimming. date of birth: June 4 (gemini)
Elio Norris-Piastri - omega twin, the smell of a sea breeze, 6 years old, visually the same mixture of a parent's appearance as his brother, a calmer child, loves books, but is always ready to get involved in adventures and adventures with his brother. despite his shy nature, he is very lively and pugnacious, although no one believes this and thinks that this is his brother, the youngest of the twins. together with his brother he is engaged in swimming. date of birth: June 4 (gemini)
Lea Norris-Piastri - tiny beta, the smell of clean bedding and soap, 9 months, a visually tiny replica of Oscar, a character already demanding and self-willed. very attached to her daddy. loves to sleep very much and is very capricious when something interferes with her. smiling baby. date of birth: December 1 (Sagittarius)
Summary: Lando is happy with the sprint, disappointed with qualifying, and then fuming after the race. Carlos builds them a nest. They’re both in need of some comfort.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.8k
Notes: Omega Carlos/Alpha Lando
Warnings: Lando mentioning struggling with eating.
Read on AO3 | or read below 👇🏼
~
The alpha entered his hotel suite with a sigh. Letting his bag slip to the floor, he flopped down onto the sofa.
His back ached. In a good way. Jon had massaged the quali stress out of him, all but insisting when he’d found him tapping his feet and chewing his fingers while chatting with Oli and Sav. It wasn’t championship stress, more the burning hunger from failing to repeat his sprint qualifying performance. Not delivering.
A sprint pole and win was a great step, showing a huge leap for the team from Suzuka, but as a world champion, placing fourth twenty-four hours after an exceptional sprint pole lap felt like he’d fucked up.
The gaps were minuscule, milliseconds off the front row. He had his work cut out for him tomorrow.
For now, he could switch off and chill out a bit. Carlos would be arriving soon, and Lando was looking forward to cuddling up with his omega. Hauling himself up, he flicked on the TV for background noise, before raiding his suitcase for comfier clothes to slip into than his teamwear. Carlos would hate him smelling like work. He raked his scent blocker patches off too, before picking out a Quadrant hoodie for his omega to steal.
He wasn’t hungry, but he placed the room service menu by the hoodie in case Carlos hadn’t eaten before he’d left. While Lando was the type who tended to eat the same things all the time, Carlos loved his food and delighted in trying different dishes.
He ended up scrolling on his phone, curled up on the sofa, when he heard the door open. Springing up, his alpha rumbled in greeting, and he heard Carlos chirp back. He’d barely rounded the corner when Carlos crashed into him, and he let out a yelp before hugging him tightly back.
The omega still had his scent blockers on, protocol until they were in their suites. Lando helped him remove them before they scented each other, planting small kisses against each other’s skin.
“Hi,” Lando breathed. Carlos was purring now, a soft and gentle vibration. Lando’s alpha rumble was loud and rough when he wasn’t in control of it, biologically wired for being dominant and intimidating. It annoyed him to no end. Controlling it to be softer took effort, but he didn’t give a fuck about gender roles.
“Hola, mi amor.”
Lando melted as they hugged once more. Carlos sounded sleepy and adorable, his accent always an edge softer when he spoke Spanish.
“You hungry?” he asked.
Carlos shook his head. “We got fed during debrief. Have you eaten yet?” He cupped Lando’s face, searching like he could sense whether he had or not.
“Nah. Might grab something in a bit.” It was mostly a lie. His stomach churned at the thought of forcing some food down into it. It wasn’t that he felt like he didn’t deserve it or anything, just one of those weird moods where he’d rather not bother. If he was going to pick at it instead, it was just a waste of time. “There’s a hoodie on the bed for you.”
His omega spent a beat longer studying him before accepting the change of subject. Pecking him sweetly, he chirped as he headed for the bedroom. It wasn’t exactly the weather for a hoodie in the heat of Miami, Carlos in a t-shirt and shorts case in point, it was more to give him something with his scent on to keep in his driver’s room tomorrow before the race. A tradition of theirs, since his rookie year.
Carlos didn’t pack it away in his bag as he’d thought. Instead, he wheeled in his suitcases and went rummaging through them. Lando leant against the doorway, watching him with a smile. It had taken a while for Carlos to build a nest in front of him. He’d been invited into his nests for years, both as friends and once they began seeing each other, but they’d always been ready-made, beautifully crafted and pristine.
Watching an omega build themself a nest was intimate and vulnerable. It was a mark of trust and the depth of their bond. A nest was sacred. A sanctuary. It was an honour for an alpha to bear witness to the process. To watch the omega’s instincts taking over as he lovingly and carefully picked every blanket and pillow and arranged them until he was satisfied.
When he placed Lando’s hoodie in the nest too, Lando couldn’t help but rumble. Proud that he could protect his omega, pleased and grateful that Carlos loved him as he did.
“It’s beautiful, querido,” Lando soothed as Carlos looked to him for reassurance. “You always make the most comfortable nests, always so good for my back. And you are perfect.” He smiled as he approached him, kissing him with a bit more pressure. “I love watching you put it together, just for us.”
Carlos whined as they kept kissing, drawing back when they were running out of breath. “You did amazing today, mi vida. You deserve the perfect nest. I can’t wait to see what you can do tomorrow.”
“Same to you,” Lando whispered. He pressed their foreheads together. “You gotta keep on doing your best. I believe in you, baby.”
“I’m getting points tomorrow, I can feel it.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” He grinned. There was determination swirling in Carlos’ eyes. He wasn’t lying.
“Now, come on, please.” Carlos took his hand and tugged him towards the nest. “I want all of your cuddles.”
Who was Lando to deny him? And as it escalated further, it was slow and gentle and soft. Exactly how they needed.
~
Lando slammed the door behind him. Chucking his bag on the floor, he paced in the bedroom. His alpha refused to enter his omega’s nest while he was angry. It wasn’t right, especially as he wasn’t here to invite him in.
Instead, he paced and paced, the pit strategy replaying itself on repeat behind his eyes. He’d been so close to growling in debrief, and that was rare for him.
He’d done everything right. Escaped the carnage, kept with the leading pack, overtaken for the lead on merit, and controlled the race from there. Until Kimi undercut him, and he couldn’t get back past the entire second stint.
They should’ve boxed first. His team should’ve been more decisive. They were world champions, and yet sometimes it was like he was still stuck in 2022. He hated getting angry at his team. They were his family away from home, and he loved them very much. Just sometimes, they did his fucking head in with their cowardly approach to certain decisions.
He was a World Champion now. It wasn’t good enough.
“Lando?”
He jumped a mile, having not heard Carlos come in. “Jesus, fuck. Sorry!” At least he hadn’t taken his blockers off yet. He’d be stinking up the place.
Carlos was purring, attempting to calm him down. His coffee and lavender scent wafted around the room. Lando took some deep breaths. Carlos didn’t need to deal with him this pissed off. In fact, his omega had scored the points he’d been manifesting and deserved all the praise.
“Hey,” Carlos soothed as he gently removed his scent blockers. “Don’t apologise for feeling angry. You should’ve won today, that’s a fact. You were so fast! I’m so proud of you, mi amor.”
Lando melted against him, relieved. “I’m so fucking happy it didn’t rain.”
“Me too.”
“Congratulations to you too, Mr Points Scorer!”
Carlos stole a kiss. “Gracias, mi campeón mundial.”
Lando couldn’t help biting his lip, his cheeks flushing. He’d never get tired of hearing that. He was proud to carry the number one for his team.
There was a knock at the door, and he growled instinctively. Carlos hushed him, and Lando frowned, confused. Nobody should be disturbing them.
“That will be our room service.” Carlos smiled, kissing him on the cheek before pulling away from him.
“But I didn’t order anything?”
“I did. Called ahead from the track. Adam said you didn’t eat with them.”
Lando sighed, unable to be annoyed at his family for snitching on him. His omega was sweet and thoughtful, always looking after him. Lando had been too full of rage to think about eating anything. Oli and Sav were already travelling home for their girls, and Max was staying with P at her family’s villa. Jon had made him have a recovery smoothie with his supplements under the threat of keeping him imprisoned in hospitality. One look from his dad and he’d given in. He could drink something, no problem.
Carlos had organised their food for them, calling ahead and arranging it so it would be ready when they got here, so Lando didn’t have to think about it or worry about it. He felt himself welling up. There was nothing better at the end of a shit day than some coddling and his omega making little decisions like this for him.
Providing for him. Caring for him. Loving him.
He could just exist without demand.
“Te amo, querido,” he croaked, wiping his eyes as a few tears escaped. Fuck.
Carlos kissed his forehead. “I love you, always. Get changed if you want while I set everything up.”
“You don’t want any help?”
“You should get changed first. Your softest, comfiest clothes. Then you can help, or just sit and eat. Let me look after you, baby.”
Lando’s alpha rumbled. “You’re so good to me.”
He let Carlos go and did indeed get himself changed, stealing one of the omega’s t-shirts in the process. The lavender tones to his scent were always calming, but especially on his bad days. It hadn’t even been a bad day in the scheme of things, just not enough. He was proud and happy with his performance, but still fuming with the result. He’d had much worse days, but he would still gladly soak up the comfort.
Carlos was just about finishing up by the time he approached the table. Two places all set with their comfort food steaming away, Lando’s accompanied by a glass of milk.
His alpha rumbled again in gratitude, and he kissed Carlos’ cheek before he sat down. Milk was a rare thing for him to enjoy nowadays, but he always appreciated some from time to time as a comfort drink. His omega knew him so well.
His stomach growled as he sat down, and Carlos’ omega trilled happily. It smelled delicious, and now that he’d calmed down a bit, his hunger pangs were functioning a bit more normally.
They chatted lightly as they ate, Lando’s sour mood evaporating all the more. There was still a long season ahead. If last year had taught him anything, it was that it wasn’t over until it was over. They had more upgrades coming. More opportunities for getting back to the top step. More chances to show he was the reigning world champion.
Only once they were cuddling in the nest did Lando finally feel at ease.
The contract must be certified by a marriage. A mating, as they say. A bite that would conceal.
That’s exactly when Oscar’s disgrace became handy.
It’s not like, by any means, Oscar expected to grow old in the castle, lurking in dark corners and fantasizing about an easier life. Still, being forced into mating a stranger was not his ideal plan either.
the landoscar abo no one asked for but i keep doing
It was too warm, the cooler humming like a tired animal overhead. Logan barely noticed. His fingers moved on autopilot, sorting receipts at the counter, while the table of omegas near the freezer buzzed with excitement.
“He’s already been scenting me in the mornings,” one said, dreamy-eyed. “You know what that means.”
“I heard Daniel’s gonna run after Caden this year. Finally.”
Laughter. Giggling. Squeals muffled into sleeves. The Full Moon Run was less than a week away, and every omega in town was acting like the mating lottery was about to change their life.
Logan didn’t have the heart to roll his eyes. He just kept counting, ignoring the twist in his stomach.
The bell above the door rang.
His body recognized them before his mind could catch up. Every hair on his arm raising.
Lando’s laugh came first, deep and loose, care-free. Oscar’s followed. Quieter.
Always together, like two halves of something hungry. Their proximity set Logan’s teeth on edge. Instead of one pair of eyes, he had to worry about avoiding two.
It was worse at university. In the lecture hall, Logan always sat near the back, hoping to disappear. But sometimes he’d look up and find them already watching. Lando, draped across his seat, careless. Oscar, sitting too still, too sharp, eyes already on Logan. Like he was waiting for him to move so he could tear into him.
Worse during games. Logan tried not to go, his friends dragged him anyway. He swore, during certain plays, they’d both look to the stands. Not scanning. Not curious. Looking. At him.
They never approached. Never spoke on campus. Just that awareness. Pressure without contact.
Logan felt like prey in a set trap, waiting to be eaten.
Their combined scents musk, cedar, and something dense and feral beneath it. Something meant to root into the spine and keep you there.
“Evening, Logan,” Lando said, placing a protein bar on the counter. His grin was lazy, practiced, but his eyes weren’t. They flicked over Logan like a hand pressed too hard against skin.
Oscar didn’t say anything. He stood close. Closer than he needed to. His gaze pinning Logan in place, cold and unblinking.
“Big week,” Lando said, tapping the bar. “Full Moon Run.” His smile sharpened.
Logan opens his mouth but Oscar beats him to it.
“Anyone you’re running from?” His voice low and even, but carrying an edge. Like teeth just beginning to sink in.
It was a typical question for omegas, but the way he said it made Logan’s stomach tighten.
Yeah. You, Logan thought. You, both of you, and whatever the hell you’ve turned me into.
Their stares were different as they waited for his response. Lando’s was hot, slow and rolling, predatory. Oscar’s was colder. Focused. Cutting. But both looked at him like he’d already been caught, and they were just deciding who would taste him first.
Alphas . His inner omega had been preening ever since he first felt their attention. The animal side of him liked this game they started, wanted this. The attention. The chase. The teeth. The promise.
His voice comes out thinner than he likes. “No, just running for the sake of tradition.”
Lando smirks. Oscar nods once, as if something had been confirmed.
Lando's lips curve back, “Run fast.” Too many teeth in that smile. “Wouldn’t want your run to end too soon.”
“Or try to hide,” Oscar adds. Still watching him. Like he could already hear Logan panting in the dark. “Unless some beast claims you first.”
—--
Logan should have taken their conversation as a warning, a prelude to the slow torture they had planned for him. From that day on until the run, they were everywhere and nowhere, shadows slipping just out of reach. It made him feel feverish, strung tight between the hunger clawing up from his inner omega and the cold certainty that he was being hunted.
Each morning, when he runs, it’s as if they’ve already passed through. The scent of vetiver and dark chocolate linger, clinging to the damp earth, wrapping around tree trunks. It coats the air, fills his throat, leaves him dizzy.
Or when he walks between lecture halls, heat presses against the back of his neck, sharp and electric. For a split second, it feels like someone is right behind him, breath hot and full of intent. But when he turns, no one’s there.
And at night, his dreams twist. Hands, rough on his hips. A voice, low and dangerous, whispers in his ear, the two of them tangled into one. He wakes up burning, soaked in sweat, aching in ways he’s only known in heat.
The dreams make it harder to ignore them, harder to pretend this isn’t what it is. A hunt. He sees them in his periphery, their eyes cutting through everything and locking on him. Their scents easily picked out in a crowd. The two of them taunting him in and out of his dreams.
His skin prickles, with anticipation. Surrounded by two alphas circling closer with every heartbeat, wearing patience like teeth. Waiting for the right moment to strike and claim.
—-
Slipping into the lecture hall on the last day before the run, he’s early enough to claim his usual seat. He hears the quiet scuff of boots, as someone lowers into the seat next to him without a word. Oscar. Casual, as if by coincidence but the air shifts instantly. Logan’s pen trembles as he uncaps it.
His scent moves slowly. Cedar, like someones forced his face against bark. Then vetiver, thick and green. Sage at the edges. It curls into Logan’s throat and stays there.
Oscar leans back. Legs wide. He doesn’t look at Logan. Doesn’t need to. His scent is doing all the work. It spreads, heavy and warm, turning the air damp. Logan’s grip on his pen tightens. His mouth is dry. Then the back of his neck prickles.
Lando.
The creak of the seat as he slides into the row behind. Not a word. Just heat. His scent pours forward. Dark chocolate, bitter and melting. Then musk, thick and carnal. Pepper cuts through it, sharp enough to bite.
Logan closes his eyes for a second. A mistake. His omega stirs, raw and wanting. Body already open to them. Remembering the dreams. Wanting more.
They were bracketing him. Not touching. Watching. Letting their scents soak into his clothes, his skin. Claiming without a word.
The seat creaks again. A boot nudges the back of his chair.
"Convenient view," Lando murmurs. "Easy to keep an eye on things."
Logan’s pen taps once. His heart stutters. He can smell himself now. Not heat. Not quite. But close. Close enough his thighs press together beneath the desk.
Oscar finally turns his head. Just enough.
"You’ll be ready by the time the full moon rises," he says. His smile flashes, all teeth. "I can smell it."
Logan’s pulse skips. He doesn’t respond. Can’t. The words are trapped under the heat rising in him.
Lando lets out a sound, something quiet and dark. Like he was biting back hunger.
—--
The clearing was loud.
Logan stands among the other omegas, breath shallow, heartbeat syncing with the slow throb of ritual drums in the distance. Moonlight spills across the clearing, cold and silver, lighting the trees they are about to disappear into. The air smells thick of earth, pine, and heat—omega heat. Dozens of bodies buzz with nerves and pheromones, shifting, glancing at one another, scenting the air like prey trying to guess who will fall first.
He doesn’t see them.
His eyes scan the alpha line across the field—rows of tall silhouettes, faces half-shrouded in shadow, postures already straining with hunger. Some wear wolfish grins, teeth bared. Others crouch low, vibrating with the need to chase. But Lando and Oscar are not among them.
They haven’t come.
Disappointment coils in his gut. His omega bristles, whining for them. It wants teeth at his heels and breath at his back. It wants to be caught.
But they’re not here.
He swallows hard and stares into the dark. The woods loom dense, root-bound and shadow-choked, filled with the ancient, pulsing rhythm of the Run. This is not his first year, but it feels different now. He has never been hunted before the starting horn. Never been sent into a soft pre-heat days early. Now he has to run and hide for real or risk being taken by someone else.
The horn sounds.
Omegas bolt.
Logan moves on instinct. Legs pumping, lungs burning, he plunges into the trees. Dirt kicks up behind him. His heartbeat roars in his ears.
He does not think. He just runs .
Branches tear at his arms. Ferns slap his thighs. The air is rich with adrenaline and sweat and fear. Behind him—shouts, a whoop, the crash of bodies in the brush.
The chase begins.
Minutes pass. Or seconds. Or hours. Time dissolves. His legs scream. His breath drags rough through his throat. He doesn’t look back.
He thinks he’s alone.
Then the forest goes still.
No snapping branches. No heavy footsteps. No victorious snarls. Quiet. Too quiet.
He leans against a tree, panting, sweat slicking his neck.
Then—snap.
A twig snaps behind him. His body reacts before his mind. He bolts—gut twisting, lungs burning, heart hammering in his throat.
Another step behind him. Closer. Heavier. Controlled.
He veers left, hard, trying to lose whoever has found him. The loam shifts under his feet. His breath catches. He feels it now—heat, breath, presence. Behind him.
The scent hits him first. Wet woods and green sage, and Oscar . Thick. Unmistakable.
A shape flashes in his periphery. He pushes harder, hurtling through a narrow gap in the trees.
It was too late.
A solid chest catches him like a wall. Air explodes from his lungs. A snarl curls in his throat. Rough hands seize him, anchoring him in place.
Lando.
“Got you,” he breathes, low and gloating.
Logan thrashes, but it's useless. Oscar moves in behind him, sealing him between them. Heat rolls off their bodies. Logan’s stomach flips as need surges, sudden and sharp.
“I knew you’d run this way,” Oscar murmurs at his ear. “We’ve been waiting.”
Their bodies cage him. Lando in front, Oscar behind. He can feel them—hard, hungry, breath syncing with his. He pants, half from exertion, half from the pressure building inside him.
“This isn’t fair,” he says, voice ragged.
Lando smiles down at him. “Who said anything about fair?”
Oscar’s voice is barely audible, a whisper at the edge of control. “We told you to run.”
Lando’s hand clamps the back of Logan’s neck. “Or hide.”
Oscar’s grip settles on his hips, strong and steady. “Or some beast would get you. Now you’re caught. By two.”
Logan tries to respond to string words into something sharp and playful. But the game is already ending, and his body has been preparing for this all week. All he can do is dig his hands into Lando’s chest, trembling.
“You ran like you wanted to be chased,” Lando murmurs. His hand tightens on Logan’s neck, fingers digging in, possessive. “You ran because you wanted to be taken down. You wanted teeth at your throat and hands dragging you to the dirt.”
His fingers dig in hard, forcing Logan to hold still as he leans in, breath scalding against his cheek. “You wanted us to eat you alive.”
Oscar’s hands roam lower, nails scoring over Logan’s thigh like he’s already carving a claim. “You were begging for this,” Oscar breathes, voice curling at the edge of cruelty. “Every time we got near, you soaked the air in heat. Could smell it clinging to your skin.”
Logan gasps, the words stripping him down further than their hands.
“Thought we didn’t notice?” Lando growls. “Your scent changed every time. Could smell you getting wet just from hearing our voices.”
Logan’s breath comes sharp, shallow. He squirms, but it only makes them press closer.
“You wanted to be hunted,” Oscar bites out. “Wanted to feel us breathing down your neck while you ran. Wanted to be fucked into the ground and ruined.”
Lando’s thumb slides across Logan’s bottom lip, forcing it open. “You kept giving us excuses to chase you. Letting us soak you in our scent. We saw it. Your body winding tighter every day.”
Logan whimpers, unable to deny it. His body betrays him, arching, grinding, silently begging.
Oscar’s voice drops, low and lethal. “You don’t get to pretend anymore. Not when you’re this close.”
Lando grips Logan’s jaw, turning his face up. “Say it. Say what you’re begging for. Or we’ll keep you right on the edge. Wanting. Needing.”
Oscar presses tighter to his back, his breath a furnace against Logan’s skin. “You don’t even know what to ask for, do you?”
“Unless that’s what you want,” Oscar adds, biting the shell of his ear. “To stay helpless and untouched, too desperate to think.”
“Maybe,” Lando murmurs, brushing a knuckle over Logan’s nipple, “that’s exactly what you want.”
Logan arches helplessly, breath stuttering.
Lando’s voice turns to a growl. “But I don’t think so. I think you want to be used. Fucked. Filled.”
Oscar’s hand wraps around Logan’s throat, not tight, just enough to remind him whose mercy he’s at. “So ask for it. Like a good bunny.”
Author's Note: Wrote this for AO3 first, and had to share on here too. Hope you like!!!
I need to know more about Alpha Lando. I always bucket him as an omega with internalized omegaphobia who wishes he were an alpha so he postures hard that way but it's not natural so that's why he comes off as insecure, awkward and too snappy sometimes. But I would like to maybe have my mind changed!!!
Okay this is going to be long. Here's the alpha Lando thesis.
Lando is an alpha. But he has this "not like the other alphas" complex. He's sometimes seen as more prissy, a little too soft to be an alpha. He's never been aggressive enough, so he feels inferior even though he's done nothing wrong. When he has to turn up the aggression on track etc it feels like a performance because that isn't really who he is.
So he gets a lot of shit for not reacting the way people expect alphas to react. He often gets compared to Max who of course is what people expect an alpha to be in F1. This of course taps into some insecurities regarding actual performance on track compared to Max etc.
All that posturing comes from a place of society telling him he's doing a bad job at being an alpha compared to his peers, and he's constantly torn between wanting to give them what they want, and being more true to himself.
However he also does think he's better than a lot of the other alphas on the grid. He has a soft side that he's not afraid to show, and that makes him stand out to omegas. Is he a bit annoying about that fact? Yes. Does it also annoy the other alphas? Yes. Is it working with omegas? Also yes.
And he does have a temper, and it does come out on track, sometimes that helps, sometimes it doesn't. We've seen it before. The media like prodding at him to try to get a reaction, they want him to explode and give them a more aggressive alpha side so they can have this whole alpha posturing battle between his rivals. He's refused to give them that for the most part. That's where a lot of the tension in the media pen came from in 2024.
Exhibit A
the alpha paws. Sorry these are the hands of an alpha made for grabbing omega waists. He completely swallows Oscar's little omega paws.
Exhibit B
We have broad alpha shoulders. This is especially obvious when you compare him to his omega teammate.
The other thing to know about alpha Lando is that he does have that party bro side. That's his temperament, he's here to have a good time and go to clubs and dance. This is often comforting to certain shyer omegas he may be going out with (cough Oscar cough)
Sometimes he is a little scattered and forgetful, but ultimately he is a good alpha who is very concerned with getting the approval of his omega partners.
Now I would not characterize him as a soft alpha. He's a little more complicated than that. He has a more sensitive side but he can be pretty brash and come across quite harsh when he wants to be. He's got an edge to him that he hasn't let anyone smooth over.
This is where we get the "not like the other alphas" mentality. Like no he's not aggressive and snappy like most alphas or like what the media wants him to be, but he's also not one of those cringe soft alphas that get shit on for basically being betas(that would make him way too insecure) so he's kind of doing his own thing out there and bless but sometimes it makes him a whole mess.
Because you see alpha Lando is very complex, he has flaws, but those make him more interesting to study.
Yes!!!! Have this snippet of little alpha Lando and his omega Max being soft together 🥺
"Everyone else tries to make me fit into a box. They try make me into something I'm not. Even Red Bull have tried to have me "trained" but I threatened to leave", Max admitted softly, lowering more of his weight onto the little alpha under him, "But you make me feel like me. You take all of me, and are proud to be with me. How could I not feel safe with you?"
He can feel Lando rumbling under him. Its a quiet little thing, a sweet thing that reminds Max of a purr almost and it makes him smile because of how well they compliment each other. Max has often been told his purr is too deep, too alpha-like, and here Lando is, rumbling high and sweetly and 100% himself.
"I don't need you to fight other alphas or defend me from the press, I can do that myself. I need a partner who loves me for me and that's you", Max grins, dragging his cheek against Lando's, letting their scents mix and relaxing as they do.
