second chances
mob boss! lando norris x reader
part twenty-four: dinner, but like, in a friend way
word count: 2.4k
warnings: none
twenty-three | twenty-four | twenty-five
The low hum of the engine filled the quiet street as Lando pulled up to her place, honking twice—impatient, as always—before she even had a chance to text him and ask why he was here on a Saturday afternoon.
She stepped outside, brow raised, dressed in a casual sweatshirt and well-worn jeans. Leaning down as he rolled down the window, the loose flyaways from her claw-clipped hair fluttered in the breeze.
“Did we have plans I forgot about?”
Lando grinned, reaching over to push open the passenger door. “Yeah. Get in.”
She narrowed her eyes, suspicion laced with amusement. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
She hesitated, still watching him suspiciously as she climbed in. “This isn’t a kidnapping situation, right? I feel like I should confirm.”
“Obviously not,” he said, faux-offended. “If I wanted to kidnap you, I’d do a much better job. You’d never even see me coming.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right, of course. How silly of me.”
Lando pulled out onto the road, the Monaco night glittering around them. The city lights blurred past, casting golden reflections across his face. He drove without his usual recklessness, which was enough to raise her suspicions again. No sharp turns, no unnecessary speeding, no sudden lane changes just to mess with her. Just steady, smooth driving.
“…Are you feeling alright?” she asked after a few minutes, glancing over at him.
“What?”
“You’re driving like a normal person.”
Lando scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m trying to be considerate, you muppet.”
“That’s new.”
“The muppet bit or the consideration bit?”
“The second one.”
“”Wow. Rude.”
She laughed, tucking her legs up onto the seat as she settled in. “So? Where are we going?”
“I promised to show you around, didn’t I?” Lando shot her a quick glance, lips twitching. “Figured I’d start with the best Chinese food in town.”
Her eyebrows shot up, surprised. “Oh? And you’re this confident it’s the best?”
Well, it’s got three Michelin stars, so…
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
They weaved through the streets of Monte Carlo, the city glowing in gold and deep navy hues. When Lando finally pulled up in front of the restaurant, she let out a breath, eyes widening slightly.
The building was stunning—sleek, sophisticated, with elegant gold-accented décor visible through the glass windows. Soft lighting spilled out onto the street, creating a warm glow against the night. It was effortlessly beautiful, modern yet steeped in quiet luxury.
The restaurant itself was a blend of sleek black and gold, polished marble, and soft ambient lighting that spilled onto the pavement outside. It looked like the kind of place where reservations were made months in advance.
“Holy shit.”
Lando smirked. “Told you.”
“This is—this place is for Chinese food?” she asked, staring at the building.
“The best.”
Her eyes darted to him, lips parting slightly before she let out a small laugh. “And this is what you call casual?”
“Obviously,” he deadpanned, stepping out of the car.
She turned to him, suddenly self-conscious about the hoodie and jeans she had thrown on. “Liam—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He was already stepping out of the car.
“Liam, I feel underdressed,” she insisted, still sitting in her seat.
He leaned down, peering at her through the open car door with that infuriatingly unreadable expression of his. “Not many people come here anyway.”
A lie.
She squinted at him, skeptical. But with a shake of her head, she got out of the car, and he led her inside.
Inside, the atmosphere was somehow even more stunning—deep emerald and gold tones, plush seating, and an air of quiet exclusivity. It smelled incredible, rich spices and crisp, fresh aromas mingling in the air. The table he led her to gave her a chance to admire the interior design up close – ornate yet modern, a delicate balance of traditional elegance and contemporary luxury. She barely had time to take it all in before she noticed something odd. The restaurant was… empty. Not a single patron in sight.
“Are we early or something?” she asked, glancing around.
Lando didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, something like that.”
No one else is allowed in, but sure. That works too.
In reality, Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo had taken it upon themselves to cover the entrance and exit, ensuring the place stayed clear for the night. Max Fewtrell had coordinated with the staff, and a generous tip had been paid to keep the doors locked to anyone but them. If that hadn’t worked, well… there was always the gun option. But Lando preferred tipping. It made things less complicated.
A waiter appeared almost instantly, as if summoned by some invisible force, guiding them to a private table set by the window. The skyline of Monte Carlo stretched beyond the glass, glowing under the night sky.
She sat down, still glancing around, unsure. “This is—”
“The best Chinese food in town,” Lando finished smoothly, already picking up the menu.
Lando glanced at her, watching the way she took everything in, eyes bright with curiosity. He liked showing her things—pieces of his world, places he had frequented. It felt… grounding, in a way he hadn’t expected.
They were barely seated when he grabbed the menu, skimming it for all of two seconds before setting it down.
“Alright, I already know what I’m getting. Are you good to order?”
She lifted an eyebrow, amused. “That was fast.”
“I have a system.”
She glanced down at the menu, scanning it. “Okay, so what’s your go-to?”
“Truffle dim sum, and—”
She snorted, looking incredulous. “Truffle dim sum? Wow. You really are fancy, huh?”
Lando shrugged, unbothered. “I have taste.”
She rolled her eyes but was still smiling. “What else?”
“Spring rolls. Obviously.”
She hummed, scanning the menu. “How many?”
“...Yes.”
She blinked at him, then burst out laughing. “Liam.”
“Seventeen.”
She simply stared at him, speechless.
“What?”
“You cannot order that many spring rolls.”
“Watch me.”
She shook her head, looking way too pleased with herself. Lando shrugged, lounging back in his seat. “Let’s call it a healthy appreciation.”
Her laugh caught in her throat, and she bit her lip to keep it from escaping. “You’re ridiculous.”
But even though she said it with affection, she couldn’t ignore the small knot of tension in her chest. There was something different about him tonight. Something that didn’t quite sit right. It wasn’t just the way he acted so confident. It was the sharpness in his eyes, the way he kept his distance in his own quiet, knowing way.
And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t thinking about work, or deals, or the person he had to be outside of moments like this. He could shed that skin, leave it at the door. Here, with her, he wasn’t the Reaper. Just Liam.
And Liam had very strong opinions about spring rolls.
As they settled into their booth, a phone rang on the table beside them—his phone.
The screen flashed with an unknown French number.
Lando didn’t even flinch. He glanced at it for a second, then swiped the screen off without answering. His focus stayed entirely on her, and for just a second, it was as if the call never interrupted them in the first place.
But before the mood could shift, his mind had already found something else focused on something else entirely. When the waiter returned, Lando leaned in, hands folded as though this was all just a normal dinner, a normal night.
Except nothing with Lando Norris was ever really normal.
Lando listened with half a smirk as she rambled on about something—he wasn’t even sure what anymore. A book she was reading? Some debate in class? Maybe it was about that stupid little café cat she claimed had a “deep, ancient soul” despite the fact that it was probably dumber than a box of rocks. It didn’t really matter.
What mattered was the way she talked, the way her hands moved animatedly, the way she stole one of his spring rolls off the plate with absolutely no remorse. He let her.
Somewhere between her ranting and the dim glow of candlelight flickering against her skin, the thought struck him.
When was the last time he went on a date?
This would be a nice place to take someone on a date. The ambiance, the exclusivity, the fact that they had an entire Michelin-star restaurant to themselves. He could picture it—soft laughter, shared plates, whispered conversations over expensive wine…
Not that this was a date.
Obviously.
But if it were—hypothetically—it wouldn’t be a bad one.
He shook the thought away, refocusing just as she finished whatever she was saying, looking at him excitedly. He wondered briefly how they’d gotten here, this level of familiarity– how someone so strange and unusual had fallen into the melodrama that was his life. He wondered when she went from someone he barely tolerated to someone he saw himself having dinner with. Usually, he preferred to have dinner alone in his office where he could work or unwind as he pleased without risking being disrupted by anyone else.
He found that perhaps having dinner with company wasn’t so bad after all. He could get used to this, perhaps once in a while.
This wasn’t a date, obviously. But still.
It was a nice place to take someone on a date. Dim lighting, good food, a quiet corner of the city where no one would bother them. And she looked—well. She always looked nice, but tonight, even in casual clothes, she looked like she belonged here in a way that made his chest feel tight.
Maybe that was why he had done all this in the first place. Not because he was trying to impress her, but because—
Because he just wanted to see her smile before he left.
He cleared his throat, suddenly restless. “M’leavin, by the way.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“Just to Brazil, for a couple’a days. For a business trip,” he clarified. The words tasted foreign in his mouth. Business trip. He supposed that’s what it was, in a way. Not one he could ever explain to her, but still.
She groaned dramatically, slumping against the back of her chair. “That’s annoying.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “Why?”
“Because how am I supposed to study without you? It’s like you want me to fail.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah, that’s my master plan—sabotaging your law school dreams. Clearly.”
She huffed, rolling her eyes. “At least bring me back something to make up for it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re giving me homework?”
“Call it extra credit,” she quipped, propping her chin on her hand. “How about some Brazilian coffee? Or—wait! Something cool, something I can actually keep.”
“I’m going for business, not shopping.” His lips twitched. “You’ll survive.”
“Debatable.” She leaned back, eyeing him. “Since you are abandoning me, I want a souvenir. Something special. Coffee or—” she paused, thinking, “—actually, surprise me.”
He scoffed indignantly. “I’ll be busy– I do have things to do, you know.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “You can multitask.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but there was something warm in his chest, something unfamiliar yet not entirely unpleasant. He raised a brow. “You’re very demanding for someone who’s getting nothing.”
She gasped. “Liam.”
He bit back a grin at her scandalized expression.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, standing.
“Yes!” She exclaimed, looking like she’d won the lotto instead. Immediately after, she seemed to remember something, so she shrugged. “You know, school’s gonna suck without you anyway.”
His fingers drummed against the table. “School sucks regardless.”
“Yeah, but it sucks less when you’re there.”
It was casual, easy—just a throwaway comment—but something about the way she said it made him pause.
She rolled her eyes and stood as well, nudging his arm as they walked out of the restaurant together. The night air was cool, the streets quieter at this hour. They reached his car, but she hesitated before getting in.
“Give me your hand.”
“What? No, m’not doing that.”
She looked up at him, and something about the way the streetlights casted their swathed her in their light made her expression seem almost sad. But he blinked, and it was gone.
“Please?”
Fuckin’ hell.
With a resigned sigh, he extended his wrist. Then, without warning, she turned to him, pulling something from her own wrist—a bracelet, woven threads of charcoal grey and deep green, slightly frayed at the edges from wear.
“Here.”
He blinked, taken aback. “What’s this?”
She didn’t answer right away, just took his wrist, wrapping the bracelet around it with gentle fingers, tying a knot to secure it.
Something about the way she did it—focused, delicate, like it was something important—made his throat feel tight. He could feel the warmth of her fingertips against his skin, the briefest, softest grazes. Maybe he was imagining it, but each touch seemed to linger.
Lando stared at it.
“This is—”
“A souvenir,” she finally said, voice quieter now. “Something to remember me by.”
Lando stared down at it, feeling oddly… unsteady.
It was just a few threads. Nothing expensive, nothing particularly significant. But he knew she’d worn it for a long time. He glanced from the bracelet to her, caught off guard in a way that felt unfamiliar and unsettling. A stupid little thing, really—frayed edges, uneven knots—but he couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him something just because. He flexed his fingers, watching how the bracelet moved with him.
Then he looked at her.
She grinned. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
His jaw tightened for half a second before he gave a slow nod. “Yeah.”
A pause.
Then—so quick he almost missed it—she leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. Just a brief warmth, nothing more.
Lando barely managed to suppress whatever instinct made his breath hitch.
She pulled back like it was nothing, still smiling. “Safe travels, Liam.”
He forced a smirk, ignoring the way his fingers curled slightly against the table.
“You’ll , uh, be careful, yeah? Take care n’ all that?” His voice was lower than he meant it to be.
She smiled, bright and sure. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded, opening the car door for her. She slid in, and as he rounded to the driver’s side, he caught himself glancing down at his wrist again. It was only a few threads, tied with a simple knot. And yet, for some reason, it felt heavier than anything he’d ever worn before.
a/n: how are we doing chat.
