Out like a light (Part 1/2)
—-Warnings: none?
—-Genre: lando x reader fluff, streaming, cuddling (can you tell I like streaming fics? 😆)
—-Request: nope
—- Part1, Part 2
—- Masterlist
Summery: Lando loves cuddles….. max not so much
——-Max Fewtrell’s Twitch stream had been live for exactly eleven minutes before chat started losing its collective mind.
Not because Max was doing anything particularly interesting — he was sitting at his desk, headset on, controller in hand, half-focused on the game and half-ranting about something trivial. The lighting was warm, casual. The room looked lived-in.
And in the background, very clearly visible, was a bed.
A bed that currently had two people in it.
Chat noticed immediately.
chat:
WAIT
IS THAT A BED BEHIND YOU
HELLO???
MAX???
WHO IS THAT
IS THAT—
Max glanced at chat briefly, eyebrows knitting together. “What?” he asked, distracted. “What are you lot on about?”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, unintentionally giving chat an even better view.
There was no denying it now.
Lando Norris was sprawled on the bed behind him, shoes kicked off somewhere out of frame, still wearing his white undershirt from earlier — the crisp button-up and suit jacket presumably discarded the second they’d walked through the door. One arm was slung loosely around a woman tucked against his chest, her head resting just below his collarbone.
His long-time girlfriend.
The one fans only ever caught glimpses of. The one who never made announcements, never posed deliberately, never played into the spectacle — but also never hid.
Private, not secret.
She was half under the covers, wearing one of Max’s spare hoodies (or maybe Lando’s — chat would argue about that for weeks), knees tucked up, one hand fisted lightly in the fabric of Lando’s undershirt as if even sleep wasn’t enough to loosen her grip on him.
They were out cold.
chat:
NO WAY
IS THAT LANDO???
IS HE ASLEEP??
WITH HER???
HELLO?????
THIS IS NOT A DRILL
Max finally turned around.
He froze.
“Oh,” he said, blinking. “…Oh.”
He swiveled fully in his chair, looking at the bed, then back to the camera, then back again — like if he stared long enough the situation might disappear.
“They’re asleep,” he said slowly, unnecessarily. “Clearly.”
chat:
WE CAN SEE THAT
MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘OH’
HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN THERE
DID THEY COME BACK DRUNK
WHAT DID THEY DO TONIGHT
Max shrugged, already putting the controller down. “Dunno,” he said honestly. “They went out. Dinner. Or a party. Or… something. I stayed in.”
Which was true. Lando and his girlfriend had come back late, laughing softly as they kicked their shoes off, whispering to each other like teenagers sneaking into a house — except they hadn’t bothered sneaking at all. They’d just… melted into the bed together.
Max had barely registered it before Lando was already half asleep.
chat:
MAX YOU ARE THE WORST LIAR
YOU JUST HAVE LANDO NORRIS SLEEPING IN YOUR BACKGROUND??
THIS IS DOMESTIC AF
HIS ARM AROUND HER IM CRYING
Max sighed and turned back to his desk. “I genuinely don’t know anything,” he insisted. “I’m not involved. I’m just here to game.”
Chat did not believe him.
Minutes passed. The game continued. The camera stayed fixed.
And then Lando stirred.
It was subtle at first — a shift of his shoulder, a low exhale as he adjusted on the mattress. His fingers twitched where they rested against her back, the fabric of the hoodie bunching under his palm.
He murmured something incoherent, face pressing briefly into her hair.
She didn’t wake.
Instead, she responded on pure instinct.
She scooted closer, tucking herself even more firmly against his chest, one leg draping lazily over his thigh. Her arm slid across his stomach, fingers slipping under the hem of his undershirt like she’d done it a thousand times before.
Lando let out a quiet hum — half sigh, half content noise — and tightened his arm around her without ever opening his eyes.
Chat exploded.
chat:
I JUST WITNESSED A PRIVATE MOMENT I WAS NOT MEANT TO SEE
THE WAY HE PULLED HER CLOSER
THATS HIS WIFE YOUR HONOR
MAX TURN THE CAMERA OFF IM BLUSHING
THEY’RE SO NATURAL ABOUT IT
Max glanced over his shoulder again and visibly winced.
“Mate,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Lando. “You’re trending.”
As if summoned by the universe, Lando shifted again — this time his eyes fluttering open briefly. He blinked, unfocused, staring at the ceiling like he had no idea where he was.
His hand moved automatically, thumb brushing slow circles into her back.
She nuzzled closer, face pressing into his neck.
“Lan…” she murmured softly, voice thick with sleep.
“Mm?” he replied, barely audible.
“Still here?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
She did.
He didn’t.
Instead, Lando turned his head slightly and finally noticed the glow of Max’s setup. The camera. The stream.
His eyes widened just a fraction.
“Oh,” he breathed.
Max didn’t turn around.
Chat noticed everything.
chat:
HIS EYES OPENED
HE SAW THE CAMERA
LANDO BLINK TWICE IF YOU’RE OKAY
THIS IS BETTER THAN NETFLIX
Lando stared for a moment, clearly debating his options. Then he looked down at his girlfriend — peacefully asleep, entirely unaware she was currently the internet’s favorite person.
He smiled.
Soft. Fond. Almost stupidly affectionate.
He carefully shifted, pulling the blanket higher around her shoulders, then tucked his chin gently against the top of her head. One hand slid into her hair, fingers threading through it slowly.
Then — without a word — he closed his eyes again.
Chat lost it.
chat:
HE CHOSE HER OVER THE STREAM
AS HE SHOULD
MAX YOU’RE THIRD WHEELING YOUR OWN STREAM
THE UNDERSHIRT?? THE SUIT ENERGY??
THEY CAME BACK FROM A DATE AND PASSED OUT TOGETHER IM SICK
Max finally addressed it.
“I don’t know anything,” he repeated, stubborn. “I didn’t see them. I didn’t hear anything. I’m not answering questions.”
The donation alert went off.
“$10 — Tell Lando we love him and his girl.”
Max didn’t even hesitate. “I’m not waking them up.”
Another alert.
“$25 — This is the most domestic thing I’ve ever seen.”
Max sighed. “…Yeah. It is.”
The rest of the stream went on like that.
Max gaming. Chat spiraling. Lando half-awake just enough to tighten his grip every time she shifted, like his body refused to let her drift too far even in sleep.
At one point, she rolled slightly, and he followed immediately — pulling her back against him, legs tangling, forehead pressed into the crook of her neck.
Not performative. Not staged.
Just love, muscle memory, and the comfort of someone who had been his home for years.
And Max?
Max finished the stream an hour later without ever acknowledging it again.
Because some things didn’t need explaining.
⸻
