Hi!! I would like to request a fic hehe i saw something similar written for isack hadjar and would love to have 1 done for lando. Its basically yn using a moulded dildo made from the mould of his dick and he is using a pocket pussy and they put on a show for each other.
Thank u!!
The Gift
Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader
Synopsis: Lando surprises his girlfriend with an intimate gift-a custom-moulded dildo made from his very own dick…
The box sits on the bed between you, wrapped in matte black paper with a silver ribbon. Lando's watching you with that particular gleam in his eyes-the one that means he's either done something incredibly thoughtful or incredibly filthy. Possibly both.
"Go on then," he urges, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. "Open it."
Your fingers work at the ribbon, and you can feel the anticipation radiating off him. Whatever's in this box, he's been dying to give it to you. The paper falls away to reveal a sleek black box, unmarked except for a small logo you don't recognize.
When you lift the lid, your breath catches.
Nestled in black velvet is a dildo. But not just any dildo-this one is unmistakably, intimately familiar. Every vein, every curve, the slight leftward curve, the pronounced ridge of the head. You've had this cock inside you countless times, know every inch of it, and now you're holding a perfect replica in your hands.
"Lando..." Your voice comes out breathy, shocked. Heat floods your cheeks and pools lower, much lower.
"Had it made a few weeks ago," he says, and there's a roughness to his voice now. "Went to this place in London. They do custom moldings. Thought about you the entire time I was getting hard for the casting."
You turn the silicone replica over in your hands. It's substantial, weighty, and so incredibly detailed. The color is even right-that perfect shade that matches his skin tone. Your thighs press together involuntarily.
"There's more," Lando adds, reaching into the box and pulling out a second item. A clear stroker, a pocket pussy. "Got myself something too. Thought we could... put on a show for each other."
The way he says it makes your pussy clench. You look up at him, and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable. He's already half-hard in his joggers, and you can see the outline of his cock pressing against the fabric.
"You want to watch me fuck myself with this?" you ask, holding up the dildo. "While you..."
"While I fuck my toy and pretend it's your tight little cunt," he finishes, voice dropping an octave. "Want to see what you look like when you're taking my cock. Want you to see what you do to me."
Your pulse is racing now, heat spreading through your entire body. "Where?"
"Right here." He gestures to the bed. "You on that side, me on this side. Close enough to see everything."
The exhibitionism of it, the intimacy, sends a thrill through you. You've never done anything like this before-this deliberate, this voyeuristic.
"Okay," you breathe.
Lando's smile is wicked. "Get undressed for me, baby. Slowly."
You stand on shaky legs, and his eyes track your every movement. You're wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties, nothing fancy, but the way he's looking at you makes you feel like you're wearing the most expensive lingerie in the world.
You grab the hem of the shirt and pull it up slowly, revealing your stomach, then your breasts. You're not wearing a bra, and your nipples are already hard, peaked with arousal. The shirt drops to the floor.
"Fuck," Lando mutters, adjusting himself. "Keep going."
Your thumbs hook into your panties, and you turn around, bending at the waist as you slide them down your legs. You hear his sharp intake of breath, know he's getting a perfect view of your pussy from behind, already wet and ready.
When you turn back around, completely naked, Lando's stroking himself through his joggers, his eyes dark with lust.
"Your turn," you say, surprised by how steady your voice sounds.
He strips efficiently, pulling his shirt over his head and shoving his joggers and boxers down in one motion. His cock springs free, already hard and flushed, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. You want to taste it, want to drop to your knees and take him in your mouth, but that's not what tonight is about.
Tonight is about the show.
You both climb onto the bed, positioning yourselves facing each other with enough space between you to see everything. Lando's sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread, his cock jutting up proudly. You're kneeling, the dildo in one hand, suddenly feeling shy despite how many times this man has seen you naked, has been inside you.
"Let me see you touch yourself first," Lando says, wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a slow stroke. "Get yourself ready for it."
Your free hand trails down your body, over your breasts, your stomach, until your fingers find your pussy. You're already so wet, your fingers sliding easily through your folds. You circle your clit slowly, watching Lando watch you, and the intensity of his gaze makes you moan.
"That's it," he encourages, stroking himself in time with your movements. "Get that pussy nice and wet for my cock. Even if it's just the replica."
You dip two fingers inside yourself, pumping slowly, and your hips rock forward seeking more friction. Your other hand brings the dildo up, and you run it through your folds, coating it in your wetness. The silicone is cool against your heated flesh, and the familiarity of the shape makes your pussy clench in anticipation.
"Lando," you whimper, positioning the head of the dildo at your entrance.
"Do it," he growls, his hand moving faster on his cock. "Take it. Show me how you take my cock when I'm not here."
You push the dildo inside slowly, and the stretch is perfect, so familiar and yet different. It's cool where Lando is usually hot, unyielding where he has some give, but the shape is exactly right. The curve hits that spot inside you that makes your toes curl, and you moan loudly as you sink down onto it.
"Fuck, look at you," Lando breathes. "Look at your pussy stretching around it. That's what you look like when you're taking me, baby. So fucking perfect."
You start to move, pulling the dildo almost all the way out before pushing it back in, establishing a rhythm. Your other hand finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles, and pleasure builds in your core.
Lando reaches for his pocket pussy, and you watch as he brings it to his cock. He spits into his palm first, slicking himself up, and then he's pushing into the clear stroker. You can see everything-his cock disappearing into the toy, the way it grips him, the flex of his abs as he thrusts.
"Pretend that's me," you gasp out, fucking yourself harder with the dildo. "Pretend you're inside me."
"I am inside you," he grunts, his hips snapping up into the toy. "This is your pussy, baby. So tight and wet for me. Can feel you clenching around me."
The dirty talk spurs you on, and you match his rhythm, both of you fucking your respective toys with increasing desperation. The room fills with the obscene sounds of your pleasure-your wetness, his grunts, your moans, the slap of silicone against skin.
"Faster," Lando demands, and you obey, your hand moving the dildo in and out of your pussy at a punishing pace. "That's it, fuck yourself on my cock. Want to see you come all over it."
You're so close already, the combination of the physical pleasure and the visual of Lando fucking his toy while watching you pushing you rapidly toward the edge. Your fingers work your clit frantically, and you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tight in your belly.
"Lando, I'm-fuck, I'm going to come," you gasp.
"Do it," he commands, his voice strained. "Come for me. Let me see it."
Your orgasm crashes over you, and you cry out, your pussy clenching rhythmically around the dildo as waves of pleasure roll through you. You don't stop moving, fucking yourself through it, and you can see Lando's eyes fixed on your pussy, watching you come apart.
"Jesus Christ," he groans. "Again. I want to see you come again."
You're sensitive, almost too sensitive, but you keep going. The dildo is soaked now, your arousal coating it, making obscene wet sounds as you pump it in and out. You adjust the angle slightly, and the head drags perfectly against your g-spot, making you see stars.
"Tell me what it feels like," Lando pants, still fucking his toy with hard, fast strokes. "Tell me what my cock feels like inside you."
"So good," you moan, your voice high and breathy. "So deep. You fill me up so perfectly, Lando. This curve-fuck-hits right where I need it. Makes me want to cum over and over."
"You look so fucking hot like this," he says, his free hand gripping the base of his cock, squeezing. "Watching you fuck yourself, knowing that's exactly what my cock looks like disappearing into your tight little pussy. Wish I could feel you right now. Wish I could feel how wet you are, how you're clenching."
You're building again, impossibly, your second orgasm approaching even faster than the first. Your thighs are trembling, your whole body covered in a light sheen of sweat. You can't look away from Lando, from the way his muscles flex as he fucks his toy, from his cock appearing and disappearing into the clear stroker, from the intense focus on his face.
"Come closer," you gasp suddenly. "Want to be closer to you."
You both shift on the bed, moving until you're close enough to touch, though you don't. The proximity makes everything more intense. You can hear every catch in his breath, can smell the musk of his arousal, can see every detail of his cock sliding in and out of the toy.
"Can I touch you?" you ask desperately. "Please, Lando, I need—"
"No," he says firmly, though his voice is strained. "Not yet. Want to watch you come again first. Want to see you fall apart on my cock."
You whimper but obey, redoubling your efforts. Your hand is cramping slightly from the angle, but you don't care. The pleasure is too intense, too all-consuming. You're fucking yourself frantically now, chasing your second orgasm with single-minded determination.
"That's my girl," Lando encourages, his voice rough. "Look at you, so desperate for it. Your pussy is gripping that cock so tight. Can see how swollen your clit is, how wet you are. You're making such a mess, baby."
His words push you over the edge, and you come with a sharp cry, your whole body going rigid as pleasure explodes through you. This orgasm is even more intense than the first, and you have to brace yourself with your free hand on the bed to keep from collapsing.
"Fuck, yes," Lando groans, and you can tell he's close too. His movements are becoming erratic, his breathing harsh. "One more, baby. Give me one more. Want us to come together."
"I can't," you whimper, but even as you say it, you're still moving the dildo, still chasing more pleasure despite the oversensitivity.
"You can," he insists. "You will. Touch your clit for me. Make yourself come one more time while I fill this toy with my cum, pretending it's your pussy."
Your fingers find your clit again, and the touch is almost too much, bordering on painful, but you push through it. The pleasure builds differently this time, sharper, more intense. You're not sure if you're going to cum or just combust entirely.
"Look at me," Lando demands, and your eyes snap to his face. "Want to see your eyes when you cum. Want you to see me when I cum for you."
The eye contact is devastating. You can see everything in his gaze-the love, the lust, the desperate need. His hand is moving frantically on the pocket pussy now, and you can see his balls drawing up tight, can see the tension in his whole body.
"Now," he grits out. "Cum with me, baby. Now."
Your third orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you scream, your vision whiting out as pleasure consumes you entirely. Dimly, you hear Lando's guttural groan, see him thrust hard into the toy one final time as he comes, his cock pulsing as he fills the stroker with his release.
You collapse onto the bed, the dildo slipping out of you, your whole body trembling with aftershocks. Lando tosses the pocket pussy aside and immediately reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. His skin is hot and slick with sweat, and you can feel his heart pounding against your cheek.
"Holy fuck," he breathes, pressing kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he can reach. "That was... fuck."
"Yeah," you agree weakly, still trying to catch your breath. Your pussy is still clenching rhythmically, oversensitive and thoroughly used.
Lando's hand trails down your body, and his fingers find your pussy, sliding through your wetness. You whimper at the touch, and he makes a satisfied sound.
"So wet," he murmurs. "So perfect. Think you could take the real thing now?"
You pull back to look at him in disbelief. "You can't possibly be ready to go again already."
But when you glance down, his cock is already starting to harden again, flushed and interested despite having just come.
"What can I say?" He grins, that cocky smile you love. "Watching you fuck yourself with a replica of my cock while I jerked off was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I'm going to need the real thing now. Need to feel your pussy around me, not some toy."
"Insatiable," you accuse, but you're already shifting, already opening your legs for him.
"Only for you," he says, and then he's covering your body with his, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. "Only ever for you."
He slides inside in one smooth thrust, and you both groan. After the dildo, the heat of him is shocking, the slight give of real flesh so different from unyielding silicone. He's perfect, filling you completely, and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
"This," Lando says, starting to move with slow, deep thrusts. "This is what I needed. Your pussy, your body, you."
You can't form words anymore, can only hold onto him as he fucks you with increasing intensity. Your pussy is so sensitive from your multiple orgasms that every thrust sends sparks of pleasure-pain through you, and you know you're not going to last long.
"One more," Lando murmurs against your neck, his hips snapping harder. "Give me one more, baby. Cum on my cock this time. The real thing."
"Lando," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Too much, I can't—"
"You can," he insists, one hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. "You will. Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it."
His fingers on your clit combined with the perfect angle of his cock inside you is too much, and you shatter, cuming with a broken cry. Your pussy clamps down on him rhythmically, and Lando groans, his rhythm faltering.
"Fuck, yes, that's it," he grunts, and then he's cuming too, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his release. "So good, so fucking good."
He collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight, and you both lie there panting, sweaty, thoroughly satisfied. His cock is still inside you, softening slowly, and you can feel his cum starting to leak out around him.
"Best gift ever," you finally manage to say, and Lando laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest into yours.
"Yeah?" He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, his eyes soft now, the sharp edge of lust replaced with affection. "Glad you liked it."
"Liked it?" You laugh. "Lando, that was... I don't even have words."
"Good," he says smugly, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Because I'm thinking we should make this a regular thing. Maybe next time we video call when I'm away for a race. You can use the dildo, I can use the pocket pussy, and we can pretend we're together."
Heat floods through you again at the thought, and you feel his cock twitch inside you, interested despite having just come twice.
"You're going to kill me," you tell him, but you're smiling.
"What a way to go though," he says with a grin, and then he's kissing you again, deep and thorough, and you know that despite your exhaustion, you're nowhere near done for the night.
The dildo lies forgotten on the bed beside you, a perfect replica of the real thing currently inside you, and you make a mental note to send a thank you card to whatever company made it possible. Because this-this intimacy, this trust, this pleasure-is everything you never knew you needed.
And judging by the way Lando is already starting to move inside you again, his cock hardening, he feels exactly the same way.
✮ SYNOPSIS , since the moment lando was signed as a driver for mclaren, he hasn't been quiet about the fact that he is in a very happy and secure relationship. this is a timeline of posts celebrating them growing up together and living their biggest dreams.
✮ NOTES , holy hell this one took a bazillion years to complete. but... MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone! i was initially going to write a fanfic for this trope but decided smau will suit this better. but i was thinking maybe i can do some oneshots and drabbles for this au? if ya'll have any ideas / requests, don't be shy and drop them in my asks. and have a wonderful day and holidays, lovelies. (yes, there will be a part 2 covering the 2023—2025 season because lan achieved so many things, our starboy!)
masterlist | part two
🗓 September 3, 2018
liked by landonorris, adam_norris_pure_electric, olivernorris1 and 10,384 others
yourusername Guess which silly little guy got signed as A MCLAREN F1 DRIVER! Always endlessly proud of you, my love. The hard work is finally paying off ❣️
tagged : ﹫landonorris
view comments ...
landonorris love youuuuu. couldn’t have happened without you (and the whole crew) by my side
↳ landonorris altho the 3rd slide is completely unnecessary :)
↳ yourusername 🥹 ily2. (and no, it's not. the fans should know what they're signing up for)
↳ olivernorris1 what fans?
↳ maxfewtrell must be the invisible ones
flo_norris_showjumping this is the guy who's going to show up on tv with the legends?
↳ yourusername hopefully he still remembers us this time next year
↳ landonorris you? definitely. the others? eh... not worth the brain space
↳ olivernorris1 really? but you have so much of that to spare
↳ adam_norris_pure_electric Be nice, kids.
carlinracing our boy in the big leagues now 🙌
♥︎ liked by author , landonorris
alex_albon see you both in barcelona!
↳ yourusername won't be there for testing unfortunately 😔 but i'm looking forward to toro rosso's performance this year !!
georgerussell63 still feels unreal
↳ yourusername congrats yourself, george 👏 amazing driver williams have got this year i heard
↳ alex_albon you mean kubica...right?
↳ landonorris ha! take that georgey porgey
↳ georgerussell63 why am i suddenly a target???
↳ yourusername children 🙄
user1 holy– this kid has a girlfriend?!
↳ user2 they've been together since year 10 apparently!
↳ user3 i read somewhere he dropped out that year tho?
↳ user2 mhm but they post each other A LOT. she also goes to support him in all the local races
user4 this is so adorable i'm melting!!
↳ user5 childhood sweethearts? chaos agent² ? SIGN ME UP!
user6 cute but how long will this last?
↳ user7 actually. like wait till the fame hits.
↳ user6 yeah, she seems like a sweet girl but these men all go after models sooner or later
🗓 October 2, 2019
liked by maxfewtrell , yourusername and 97,902 others
landonorris The princess will be living in a castle now and I'm never getting over how smart my girl is 🤭
tagged : ﹫yourusername
view comments ...
yourbff that caption?? alright mr. steal your girl i didn’t know your game
↳ landonorris so you can be nice and just choose not to 😦
↳ yourbff :) send me the last pic
↳ landonorris i don't see a 'please' anywhere
adam_norris_pure_electric so so proud ❤️
↳ yourusername thank you for driving the girls to us, you are the best!
↳ ciscanorris1 we had to! one of my sisters is in cambridge, i'm never giving up bragging rights
↳ user8 shut up she is already part of the family!!!!
↳ user9 lol adam has called her his daughter in law so many times the only thing left are the legal documents
maxfewtrell is this you admitting to a nerd kink?
↳ landonorris since when is competency not sexy?
↳ yourusername i'm about to evaporate! STOP
↳ landonorris neverrrrr
↳ user4 lando NOrizz ❌️ lando ALLTHErizz ✅️
user10 she’s a STEM GIRLIE IN CAMBRIDGE?!
↳ user11 WHAT? whats she majoring in?
↳ user10 biochem i think although she has said in an insta live she wants to take neuroscience courses too
↳ user12 fuck okay i see what lando means
↳ user13 SHE’S 18 YOU SICKO
↳ user12 SO AM I!!!!!
yourfriend1 of course his boot is a flower shop now
♥︎ liked by author , yourusername
yourusername so many beautiful pics and you chose to post that one
↳ landonorris have you *seen* yourself, you muppet?
↳ yourusername not againnnn (my sweetheart ☹️💝)
↳ landonorris get used to it pretty girl
↳ user5 the tension between me and the train track rn
user14 guess who we'll be seeing less of on live tv
↳ user15 good riddance imo
↳ user14 ikr! it was cute at first but i'm tired of her boring ass face. he can do so much better
↳ user17 news flash: HE’S NOT GONNA PICK YOU!
user16 we know she paid her way in! nobody gets into cambridge while spending half the year travelling to races across the world
↳ user17 i'm not gonna say you're bitter and miserable but well...
↳ user18 and what have you accomplished in your life except wasting precious oxygen?
user19 the hate comments are so funny lol. some of ya'll can't see young successful people thrive and it shows
↳ user20 lmao yeah. they can stay pressed while these two achieve their dreams. happily & together!
🗓 July 5, 2020
liked by landonorris , carlossainz55 , lilymhe and 43,876 others
yourusername Flying close to the sun, it suits him oh so much. Thank you, Austria <3
view comments ...
landonorris oh you are obsessed with me, just say so next time woman
↳ yourusername i need to hold back. i'm losing my nonchalant mysterious girl look
↳ landonorris that's the funniest shit i've ever heard babe
mclaren first podium and so many more to come! y/n is the lucky charm confirmed?
↳ landonorris was there ever any doubt?
carlossainz55 one step closer to the top, mate
↳ yourusername congratulations to you too, p5 is no shoddy work!
↳ carlossainz55 it was very good to have you back with us again 👏
↳ user10 yessss she gets along with chilli!!!
yourbff yeah ok that was mega!! let's go lando
↳ landonorris SEAL OF APPROVAL HELLO???
↳ user21 help he's more excited for her best friend’s acceptance
↳ user22 sus how much they interact. awfully flirty
↳ user23 literally fuck off have you SEEN landoyn in the paddock?? both of them are locked in for forever 🤞🏻
landonorris see! this this why i tell you that you should be at every race. but NO! she just has to go off and do super amazing sciencey things 🙄
↳ yourusername call it a balancing act. can't let your ego soar too high
maxfewtrell both of you are sickening (congrats to my boy)
↳ yourusername you'll get over it
user24 stop they are literally so so adorable together
user25 waxing poetics about a MAN? we've officially lost her
↳ user26 i fear she was gone since long long back. this is the aftermath and i'm eating this up!
user27 so dramatic and for what? a podium. that's all that midfield team is capable of
↳ user28 lol yeah. lando's career peaked here
↳ user29 don't you ever get tired of the amount of b.s. that comes out of ya'lls mouth???
user30 yeah these highs feel like the top of the world when you're what twenty? wait a couple more years and all these cringe posts will be wiped from their accounts
user31 my fav paddock couple and local menaces
user32 i met y/n in austria before we got ushered away because there was a crowding in front of the entrance. she came as close to hs as she could with the social distancing protocols and took some gifts from the young fans for lando! she even came back later with lando and they posed for some pictures! she is so unbelievably sweet omg
↳ user33 mhm i know i picked the right people to support
📍 Tignes, France | 🗓 January 6, 2021
liked by ciscanorris1 , sachafenetraz and 589,207 others
landonorris When in doubt, jump off a snowy cliff
tagged: ﹫yourusername ﹫sachafenetraz
view comments ...
yourusername oh that's not...
♥︎ liked by author
olivernorris1 ik i got the jump on you with the proposal, but this is excessive even for you
↳ landonorris ﹫sav_smith come get your fiancé, hes a bellend
↳ sav_smith okay but even i was surprised, lan. you and y/n next?
↳ landonorris i take back my words. you are both terrible 😒
sachafenetraz it was nice to have all of you here but less snowball fights next time, okay?
↳ landonorris i second this
↳ olivernorris1 me three
user34 GUYS WAKE UP! norris family trip crumbs just dropped
user35 hooooow did bro get fresh flowers at a ski resort????
↳ user36 the definition of "if he wanted to, he would"
↳ user35 is this u trying to tell me u want flowers, baby?
user37 did you see lando's stories that hes been posting the past week? may this type of love find me asap 🙏
↳ user38 FR! and the one his dad posted! sav and y/n are 100000% part of the norris family, idc about legal stuff
↳ user39 lmao not sure about y/n but oliver got down on one knee over the trip. its all over his account
↳ user40 WHAT?!? broo i fr thought given how long landoy/n have been tgt, they'd get hitched first
↳ user41 then again, oli's older so... plus lando and y/n are probs not ready to settle down yet. both have a lot going on at the moment
↳ user37 yep yep yep. and it's not like a ring is gonna change something. they're going six years strong now!
yourusername look at the pretty flowers (and the pretty boy who gave 'em to me 💫❤️)
↳ maxfewtrell you can't even see his face?
↳ yourusername MAXIMILIAN PLS 😭 let me be mushy in peace
↳ landonorris pretty flowers for the prettiest girl. ignore the hater, baby
↳ maxfewtrell 'hater' is INSANE
user42 Lando probably broke a million contract clauses going on a snowmobile and then posting about it on main lol
↳ user43 yeahhh f1 drivers don't have the best lucks with skiing
↳ yourusername 😬 i'll keep my silence then
↳ mclaren ?
↳ user42 LMAO not y/n getting clocked by admin
🗓 November 5, 2022
liked by carmenmmundt , lilymhe and 88,521 others
yourusername Cheers to my ride-or-die for finding her other half!! Love looks great on you two 💗 (To those who were asking, Sherlock is perfectly okay now. You see, chocolates are not great snacks for every species :'>)
tagged: ﹫yourbff
yourbff the best maid of honor i could've asked for! again, thanks for arranging the photographer babe
↳ yourusername always happy to help 🫶
yourfriend2 wedding photoshoot dropping when? 😉
↳ yourusername hmm photographer is a bit packed rn but he's working on it
lilymhe i spy with my little eye a cute happy doggo! glad he's okay now x
↳ yourusername i can't thank u two enough. that vet recommendation saved 2 lives last week
yourfriend3 i know realistically nothing can beat that hen do but i NEED u as my wedding planner
↳ yourfriend4 do not stroke her ego pls. she will absolutely set up a business over the break
↳ yourusername 👀
user44 you and lando next, queen?
↳ user45 this made me giggle. we're all waiting for the inevitable, aren’t we?
↳ user46 speak for yourself. lando hasn't been in the likes for a while now. i don't think they've posted e/o at all since summer break
↳ user44 oh, here we go again...
user47 to everyone pointing out lando (or his absence), can we not do this under a post about her BEST FRIEND's wedding shout?
↳ user48 they're not wrong tho. and y/n's bff is also very good friends with LN4
↳ user49 yeah but that doesn’t mean we can dictate which parts of their life they will post online.
↳ user50 this>>> listen i ship them as much as the next person but this is getting weirdly parasocial
↳ user48 just pointing out the obvious. there isn't a trace of lando in y/n's recent posts. if her best friend is getting married, u don't think lando would've been there? they all know each other from their millfield days 🤷♂️
user30 oh we're already entering the divorce era then? at least bro's fast somewhere
↳ user28 dude for that they need to get married first! just watch lando fumble this too like his races
↳ user27 like this comment to claim "i called this in 2019" card loooool
user51 y/n has the most random hobbies i swear
↳ user52 thank you i was literally about to say this!! i think i've seen her do pottery, rock climbing, surfing, shooting (🤩) and now we add archery to the list
↳ user53 she's barbie and lando's just her ken <3
🗓 November 27, 2022
liked by martingarrix , charles_leclerc and 704,663 others
landonorris Ended the season on a decent note. Now I've made it somewhere to have some funnnn (If you identify as Jon Malvern, ignore the 4th slide and focus on the 5th 🙏)
Want to match with me? Get your mitts on this new collection on my website! Quadrant version coming soon.
tagged: ﹫lnfour ﹫quadrant
view comments ...
danielricciardo can't believe you'd take holidays in monaco rather than here down under
↳ landonorris not ready for a christmas in summer yet 😅
charles_leclerc heard you need a tour guide?
↳ landonorris please! i will owe you big time
mclaren so proud of you this season 🧡 take the rest you deserve!
♥︎ liked by author
user55 the drum set is EVERYTHING omg!!!
↳ user56 as a drummer, this had me cheesin hard
↳ user57 another lando hobby? sign me tf up!
user58 no y/n in the dump again? 😶
↳ user59 he’s allowed to post solo stuff 😭
user60 love the pics but ngl it feels a bit empty without her
↳ user61 y’all he just finished the season let him breathe
user62 interesting how she’s been absent for a while now…
↳ user63 not saying anything but the timing is kinda weird. the season is over and instead of going home to his gf, he's flying to monaco?
↳ user64 hold my hand and repeat after me: their personal life is none of our business!
user65 the disclaimer for jon lmao. never thought i'd relate to a millionaire but here we are
↳ user66 drivers really start living again the moment they clock out for the winter
user67 the merch drop HELLO??? lando, i'm gonna be broke before xmassss
↳ user68 i say that but i'm out here trying to cop a hoodie before they sell out. they look mad comfy
user69 y/n come back. the kids miss you (the kids is me)
↳ user70 maybe she just didn’t want to be posing for the internet rn??
↳ user69 jesus ya'll are dramatic. i didn’t even say anything
↳ user70 he used to post her a lot more though
↳ user69 food for thought but... wags have their own life. they don't eat, sleep, breathe F1
user71 i know twitter is going crazy rn but i doubt if something was wrong he’d look so chipper
user72 mhm mhm feels like he’s in his single era🤭
↳ user73 he looks… lighter? if that makes sense
[ y/n's chats ]
📍 Monaco | 🗓 December 25, 2022
liked by maxverstappen1 , carlossainz55 and 1,034,890 others
landonorris Happy christmas from my family to yours from the new crib! FYI, Sherlock absolutely got the most presents
tagged: ﹫yourusername
maxfewtrell i had my doubts but you two make decent hosts. cheers!
♥︎ liked by author , yourusername
olivernorris1 congratulations. the house is actually a dream
♥︎ liked by author , yourusername
maxverstappen1 so it was you two at monte carlo yesterday?
↳ yourusername you were there? should've said hi lol
adam_norris_pure_electric I must say, the decorations were amazing. Good for you both, mate
↳ landonorris thanks for helping set up, dad
georgerussell63 happy christmas. can't believe you both are grown enough to be moving in together
↳ landonorris joke's on you, we take that as a compliment
alex_albon see you around more often then. the zoo miss sherlock. happy christmas!
♥︎ liked by author
charles_leclerc practically locals now, no?
↳ yourusername the beaches are still terrible charles!!
↳ charles_leclerc 😞
yourbff it is stunning over at yours. thank you for having us last week 💖
♥︎ liked by author , yourusername
user74 LMAOOOOO people were losing their shit while lando and y/n were moving in silence *and* moving to monaco!
user75 what a nice way to tell the antis to SHOVE IT
↳ user64 i never lost faith 🙌 mama y papa
user76 and you guys were saying THESE TWO broke up?!?! smh
yourusername happy christmas, my love. the first one together like this and with many more to come ❣️
Your dating life was a significant flaw that you carried with you throughout your life. The first date went smoothly, filled with wine and late-night walks along the beach. But once they found out that you had a three-year-old baby girl waiting at home...
They never called back.
Taking a break from dating for a while was easy. Giving up as a whole was best in the time being. Down in the small suburban city of Monaco, tucked away in a small aesthetic setting, was a little local book shop you worked at, while your daughter, Lily, was at your brother, Aiden's, house for the day.
It was a slow Monday as you stood behind the main counter, leaning against the wall as you munched on a cookie from the café next door. Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed, signaling that someone had walked in. Quickly wiping your hands, you stepped forward to the computer and greeted the man with a smile.
"How can I help you today?"
He walked up to the counter, tapping his fingers down on the smooth surface as he looked in your direction. "I am... looking for something to read." He sighs, desperation and defeat stirring within his voice.
You chuckle. "You've come to the right place. Are you into anything specific?"
"Biographies, thrillers, horror, fiction, anything but romance."
"Gotcha." You click your tongue, looking around. "Follow me." He walks with you to the corner of the store as you look at the shelves with thought. "Are you into books that you can also watch on TV?"
"You read my mind." He smirks.
"For horror..." Crouching down, you reach for a book that sat in the front of the row. "I can recommend Stephen King's 'It'." Handing it up to him. "And I can recommend 'The Sun Down Motel' by Simone St. James." The second book was sitting next to 'It", you hand it up to him as you stand, meeting his level.
"I like your taste." He smiles, glancing your way before looking down, flipping the book over to read the description.
"I try." You chuckle. There was a long pause. Light chatter was heard from the cafe next door, but the bookstore was quiet. Perfect.
"Uh... what about like- war books? But they aren't real. Like a-"
"Fiction?"
"That." He points, following as you wave him over in the direction of the history section. Stopping at the small history section, you pause, looking as you pull a certain book out from the top shelf.
"'The Things We Can Not Say' is a good one. It follows Eleena during World War 2 and transitions between her and her granddaughter in 2019."
"Good enough for... a friend?" You stand fully, looking at him square in the eyes.
"Depends. Who's your friend?"
"I- uhm..." He trails, looking down at the book. "You?" You finish for him.
"Well, it's not like I'm some history nerd or anything." He blows off, eyes filling with nerves.
"It's okay if you are. Hell, I'm a book nerd."
"I just think World Wars are interesting." He smiles.
"I do too." You start walking out of the aisle to the counter when he stops you again. "What about racing?"
"Racing?"
"Autobiography... racing books."
You turn, looking at the shop. "We don't necessarily get any books. We do get magazines, though." There was a box that sat below the counter. The delivery man arrived at the same time as you did, early in the morning, with a bunch of new magazines and books for the shop.
"Perfect." He saunters back to the front counter. "I think we actually got some new ones today." You placed the box on the counter from the corner of the employee area and grabbed one of each magazine from the four different stacks, laying them out in front of him. "Are you into the sport?"
"Yeah... you could say that. You?"
"I'm not totally familiar, but my brother watches it all the time. Always complaining about the teams or whatever." You wave a hand in the air.
"Really? What does he say? If you don't mind me asking that is."
You laugh. "I try not to listen, but this past year, it's been about how some guy named Lewis shouldn't have switched teams? I don't really know what that means, to be honest."
"Well, I'm sure Lewis feels the same way." He jokes, placing the magazines down by the cash register. "I'll do these for now."
You quickly ring up the books, adding them all together. "29.73." He hands you a fifty-dollar bill. "Did you want to place an account with us?"
"Depends, do I get to be coming in here more often?" He smirks.
"Whenever you'd like. As long as it's store hours."
"Then I'll do it."
"Okay, I'll just need a card number and email." He pulls out his card, reads the PIN off, and then transfers his email to the iPad screen. "And I just need a name."
"Lando."
"Last name?"
"Norris…" he started, his voice trailing off slightly. "Uh, it's Norris… you know, just Norris." He shifted uncomfortably, clearly reluctant to say his last name.
"Okay, you're all signed up. You should receive an email shortly just to confirm everything." You smile, handing his bag over to him
"Great, thank you so much." He smiles, walking away from the counter. You turn your attention back to the large box, picking up all of the new magazines and organizing them into their own stacks. "Oh- what's that cafe about?" He asks, catching your attention. Pointing through the small door to the cafe that connected to the store.
"Just opened. They have some pretty good stuff."
"What's your best recommendation from there? For the Halloween season." He mentions, swinging the bag aimlessly in his hands.
"Pumpkin spice latte. It's the best."
"Great. That'll be my next stop then. Have a great day." He smiles.
"Thank you, you too." He walks through the entryway into the Cafe, your gaze quickly turning as you see Aiden and Lily walk through the main door.
"Hi guys!"
"Look, mommy's here!" Lily says, pointing over to you.
"Yeah, she is." Aiden laughs as he carries Lily over to the counter.
"Let's get books." She looks around, eyes locking onto the colorful children's section by the door.
"Let's go get some books." He says, carrying her over to her section. They plop down in a beanbag chair after Lily collects a couple of books, reading them aloud to him and pointing to all of the pictures.
"This is very good." A voice says. Lando walks over to you, holding his latte in the air proudly like he'd made it himself. "You are like an expert on everything." He compliments.
"Well, thank you." You smile. "Guess I just separate trends from actual quality."
"Tell me about it. I saw this matcha green tea on TikTok..." He pauses, wincing at his own words like a knife to the chest. "I'd thought I'd give it a go since it was popular. Definitely not for me. That was awful."
"Yeah. I tend to go for stuff that people don't order, or stuff that's not trending online." You giggle. "This world is run by trends."
"Well, I do have to say that this-" he holds up his latte. "Is a winner. I'm going to have to stop here every day before the season is over."
You lean closer to him, crossing your arms along the counter. "I'm really good friends with the barista there. Even though it's been a week. Yesterday I ordered a whole thing of it, like a bulk deal. Tell her you know me, and she'll get it done for you."
"Really? I might have to take that then if it means getting this every morning."
"Definitely." You smile proudly, tapping your hands on the counter. "It's an addiction."
"Although I never got your name?" He raises a brow, sipping his latte like it was the last thing on earth.
"Y/n."
"Great to meet you."
"Great to meet you too."
Lily rushes over to the counter, Aiden trying to keep up with her through the small space. She plopped her book up on the counter, arms barely reaching even on tippy-toes.
"Right, well, I'll let you tend to your customers. I'll see you around." Lando gives a polite wave, which you return as he walks out of the building.
"Alright, ma'am, you ready to pay?"
"I like that one!" Lily points, her little hands gripping the counter as she peers her eyes towards you. "I got this!" She shouts, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter.
"Wow! Where did you get this?" You ask, surprised, taking the money and putting it into the cash register.
"Uncle Aiden!" The cash box rings as you take the difference out, handing it back to Aiden with a stern look and small smile.
"She deserves it." He shrugs.
"We get discounts."
"It's fine." He waved off, looking down at Lily, who was clutching her new book tightly against her chest. "Lil's, why don't you go over and read your book?" She nods happily, rushing off and plopping herself on the floor while Aiden turns his attention back to you. "Who's the guy?"
Confusion hit like a slap in the face. "W- what?"
"The guy? Left when Lily came up." He states.
"Oh, just some customer. Came in earlier." You shrug, focusing on the magazines that you'd neatly stacked together. Aiden quirks a brow, you noticed while walking to the front of the counter, separating the magazines into different slots near the counter. "What?"
"I just... worry."
"I know. But it's okay. He just needed book and coffee recommendations."
"I also remember the last times someone was 'just a customer.'" He refers back to your ex, the one you had Lily with.
Sighing, a hand runs through your hair as another stack of magazines is grabbed, stacking them neatly underneath the previous ones. "I'm not trying to make you upset." He drums his fingers along the edge of the counter. "I worry about your well-being. And Lily, she was young, but she understood." Your head moves simultaneously with his words. Focused on your organization, the rest of the conversation fades into the background until Lily runs over to you, pulling on your sweater.
"What's up, bug?"
"Go home?" Her tiny voice says, pleading eyes looking up at you.
"Uncle will bring you home." You crouch down to her level. "I will be home shortly, though, before dinner."
"Promise?"
"I promise, and then we can have all the chicken nuggets and French fries we want."
"Yay! I like that!" She slings her arms around your neck, dropping her book to the floor in the process. You giggle, mimicking her motions as you hug her tightly. "I'll be home waiting."
"Perfect." You smile, standing up. "Make sure uncle doesn't get into too much trouble." You tease.
She nods her head, blonde curls falling past her face as she and Aiden walk out the main door. The shop was quiet; the noise from the cafe wasn't as loud as before. You finished stacking the rest of the magazines and displaying them before sitting behind the counter, lazily scrolling on your phone to pass the time.
It was nearing six o'clock. The sky was a gloomy gray, the street lights flickering on. You grabbed your bag from the back office, shutting the lights off before flipping the sign from 'open' to 'closed' and exiting the building. The small town lit brightly at night. Bars and restaurants are filled with people. Sidewalks would empty out and then come to life every time someone would leave to go home.
You jigged the handle on the door, making sure it was locked before walking down the street. A mix of autumn and food from the restaurants hits you as you walk. The trees in front of each shop are lit with string lights, and the leaves falling off each tree are spilling into the road. Your boot crunched with every step you took.
The main street was busy. The red hand on the crosswalk sign blinked furiously as you waited. "Hey, stranger." You whip your head over to see Lando walking in your direction, stopping and waiting for the light to go green.
"Hey." You smile. "Two times a day... that's a record."
He laughs, a full chest laugh. "Small town, I suppose."
"Yeah." You laugh, crossing your arms against the chill of the autumn air. "Do you live around here?"
"Over near the bay, what about you?"
"Kind of in the middle. I'm right over there." You point at the tall apartment building to the left of you. Towering in the distance.
"Wow, I'm literally around the block from that." The light quickly turns green, and both of you walk across the street to get to the other side.
"Really?" You ask, rounding the corner of the street.
"Yep. I'm just... over there." He points to a large building off in the distance, on the other side of town.
"That's... more than a block."
"Yeah, well… I- I mean. Well, you know—" he stammers again, glancing around nervously. "How was work?" He shifts from foot to foot, clearly anxious. The thought of you stopping communication because he lives on the rich side of town has him on the edge of his seat. "I mean, it’s not like I choose where to live or anything," he mumbles, trying to brush off the nervousness spilling out of him.
"Work was good. Thanks for asking." You laugh at his quick cover-up. "Aren't you an adult?"
"Yeah... but you know." He pauses, glancing over at you. "I didn't have work today." A hint of hesitation appeared in his voice as if he was unsure if he should have told you.
"Really? You must be lucky then."
"Yeah, something like that." He says, scratching the back of his neck as you walk. "You know I started that 'Sun Down Motel' book. It's really good."
"I'm glad you like it. How far did you get?"
"Chapter two. But I plan on reading more after I get home." He points a finger aimlessly towards the night sky.
You and Lando continued your walk together, the crisp orange leaves leaving small whispers as they blow by your feet. A comfortable silence enveloped you, the city coming to life for the evening. A familiar concrete building subtly appeared before you, making you stop in your tracks. Lando's too.
"Have a good night." He smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave. The beaming light reflects off his face. You couldn't tell much in the dark, but there was something within him you liked. Something you haven't felt in a while.
"You too."
You separate. You walk into your apartment building while he travels slowly down the sidewalk, hands tucked in his pockets from the cold weather. The receptionist in the lobby gave you a warm smile as you headed towards the elevators, clicking the button before the doors opened.
The ride up was deliberately slow. Your bag was clutched under your hand as you leaned back against the wall, staring into the abyss. Thoughts swirled in your mind, fragments of the day played like a reel in your mind. The thick hum of the elevator soon came to a jolting stop, the door sliding open.
Distant chatter came from every door you passed, probably having an enjoyable family dinner. Your apartment was silent. No chatter or laughter came from inside, even through the thick wood. You unlocked the door slowly, stepping inside and placing your bag on a coat hook.
The apartment was dimly lit, with only the glowing lamps illuminating a corner of the living room. Lily was sitting on the carpet with Aiden, building a LEGO set and watching cartoons. Her little eyes lit up at the sight of you standing in the doorway.
She ran over to you, wrapping her arms around your leg. You bent down, hugging her tightly. "How was your day, bug?"
"We build LEGO's today!"
"Awesome." You giggle, running a hand through her curls, the light catching her blonde strands. "I'm glad you had fun."
"Uncle let me have pie." She giggles excitedly before running into the kitchen. You stand, hand going to your hip as you look over at Aiden.
"Really?"
"Look, I fell for it again," He admitted, shaking his head in sarcastic frustration. "She was just too cute. She had the big puppy dog eyes and adorable little whimper. I- it was just too hard not to give her a piece. You don't understand." He rushes, stammering over his words.
"I do. I raised her. I know how not to fall for her tricks." You smirk, turning on your heel and walking into the kitchen. He followed right behind, and Lily sat comfortably in an island chair, slouching back as she waited for her food. "Alright, girly, you sure you want dinner?"
She shakes her head with a small smile. "I want chicken nuggets."
"Okay..." The smell of freshly baked pie still lingered in the air. "Are you sure you're not full from the pie?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, a teasing grin forming on your face as you look at her.
"No! I promise."
You open the freezer, taking out chicken nuggets and French fries.
"Alright, I'm out of here," Aiden says, slinging his hoodie over his shoulder. "Am I coming over tomorrow?"
"Yeah!" Lily shouts excitedly. You smile, simply nodding as you put the food in the oven.
"I can try to get out of work early. I can't promise anything, though." You say.
"It's okay. Just call me in the morning." He gives both of you a quick hug before leaving.
"Is Uncle coming over tomorrow?" Lily asks, tilting her head.
"I think so. At least for a couple of hours." You smile.
"And then we can hang out?"
"Of course, baby."
-
The week flew by with ease. The bookshop wasn't as crowded as it was near the holidays, which was nice for some downtime.
It was Friday. The sky was a light gray, and the wind was whistling through the quiet streets of town. You flipped the shop sign from closed to open before lugging a big ladder through the doorway.
You picked up some string lights from a local hardware shop to decorate the bookstore. You climbed the ladder slowly, stopping halfway up and unraveling the lights. There were already hooks above the door and looping down above the windows.
You lay the lights against the hooks. The soft glow of the lights casts gentle shadows on the walls as you work. With deliberate movements, you travel across to the left window, the ladder creaking as you lean over, grasping onto the crowing of the door for balance. The other side of the lights begins to slip off the hooks above the door, falling carefully to the ground like sparkling droplets.
You sigh, dropping your head as you finish hooking the left side of the lights. A heavy shadow comes into the corner of your peripheral vision, making you turn your head to see a hand picking up the string of lights.
Lando stood to the right of you, lips quirking into a smile. "Drop something?"
"Wow." You huff sarcastically. "If I didn't know you or your name, I'd have to take this to stalker level."
Throughout the week, you'd seen Lando pop up near the bookstore quite often. Whether it was just an overly stroll past, or a stop in to 'buy a new book' after talking with you the whole time.
"Well, I was just walking by, trying to get an early jog in, and saw you dropped these." He says, raising the lights.
"Thank you." You smile, gently taking them out of his hands and hooking them around the hooks above the right window. "You always come around this way?"
"Well... a new route. New change." He shrugs, gaze following your movements as you step down the ladder.
You nod, closing the ladder and setting it inside the door. "Well, I'd better not keep you waiting."
"Oh, I'm fine." He waves off. "This was the end of my route."
"The bookstore... is the end of your route?"
"Yeah. Figured," He shrugs. "Why not?" You nod along, walking inside the shop. Lando follows behind slowly as you walk behind the counter, clocking in and starting up the computer. "Have you gotten any new reads in?" He leans his elbows gently on the counter, placing his head in his hands.
You giggle. "No, we don't get them that often unless we're out or if it's something brand new."
"Well, you should definitely get something new."
"Like what?"
He hums, quickly glancing around. "To Kill a Mockingbird?"
"Over in the history section." You point.
"What about... The Yellow Wallpaper?"
Your brows furrow, eyes concentrating on the computer as you look up the book. "I can order it for you if you'd like."
"That'd be wonderful." He smiles, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "And, what about 'A Date?'"
Nothing shows on the computer screen. You type the book in multiple different ways, still not finding the particular title. "I'm not finding anything in here."
"Really?" He leans over, looking at the screen as you turn it in his direction. "That's odd. I could've sworn..." He trails, looking up at you. "I could've sworn I already asked."
"Ah- gotcha." You nod sarcastically. "Where does it take place?"
"The Adriatic. Tonight?"
"Can't tonight. Well- maybe. It all depends."
"You have my number in the system, right? You can call me from there."
"Sure. I'll let you know." You smile.
"Great. Well, I will see you later, possibly." He chuckles, turning on his heels and walking out.
You let out a breath. Brows knitting together slowly, trying to piece together your conversation.
You had a date.
An actual date.
The first one in over a year. The first one where the guy asked you out first.
You grab your phone off the counter, dialing Aidens' number. The line picked up instantly.
"I have a date."
"Excuse me?"
"I have a date." You repeat.
"Woah- okay. Okay, with whom?" Confusion broke through his voice as he spoke.
"The guy from the store. He came in again today-"
"Y/n."
"Aiden."
"A date? You've known him for a week."
"That's the point of a date. To get to know each other more. But it's tonight..." Your words tip, trailing off the edge as you realize the promise you made to Lily. "It's tonight."
"You promised Lily. You've promised to hang out with her this whole week after work."
"I know. I know."
The line goes silent. Aiden sighs, walking around. "Where is she?"
"In the living room watching TV."
You nod. "What if I come home early. Spend some time with her and then leave?"
"That's up to you. But you can not tell her you have a date." He says quietly. "You know how she gets."
"I know. I can just... tell her I have an appointment or something."
"It's up to you. Not me."
"Are you able to stay later?"
"Yeah. But as long as you don't rush into things."
"Thank you. Really."
"You're welcome. I'll see you at home."
He hangs up the phone. You slid it into your back pocket, walking into the employee room and grabbing the rest of the fall decorations.
You stepped up on the windows ledge near the kids' section, reaching up and hanging a mix of string lights and fake orange and red leaves on little hooks that outlined the window. The other side looked exactly the same.
Time passed slowly as you decorated. Little pumpkins sat on the counter by the register, fake jack o lanterns placed on the window ledge, and some real ones just outside the door.
You'd written Landos' number down in your phone before you left, texting him a quick confirmation for tonight. The wind was brutal on your back as you walked. Boots clicking with every step.
The lobby doors swung open as you stepped through, hiding from the cold. A fire was dimly lit off to the side, where the small waiting area was. Amy, the building's receptionist, handed your mail to you before you went up to your apartment.
The smell of cake and different baked goods filled the space as you walked inside the apartment. You round the corner to see Lily and Aiden baking in the kitchen, a huge floury mess everywhere. Bits of batter dripped from the counter to the floor as they looked at you with innocent eyes, both in the middle of licking batter-covered spoons, as you caught their attention.
"Mommy!" Lily runs over, ditching her spoon in the process.
"Hi, bug." You smile, crouching to her level. "I see you guys are having fun."
"We maked cupcakes! For you!" She runs back through the kitchen, pointing to a purple iced cupcake that Aiden handed to her. "Can you please try it?" She asks, a slight whine hinting in her voice as she holds the cupcake proudly in her hands.
You nod, smiling and taking it from her. Rainbow sprinkles dropped out as you bit into it, the whole inside filled with different colors and icing.
"Wow... this is good." You smile. "Sugary, but good."
"I knew you like it!"
Aiden nods, tilts his head to the side, signaling for Lily to stand with him while he takes more cupcakes out of the oven. You discreetly moved down the hallway into your bedroom.
Dresses were piled in your closet and on the rack, each hanger quietly screeching against the metal as you moved the dresses aside, carefully deciding which dress to wear.
Your eyes wandered along the rack and shelves, stopping when they saw a dark navy blue dress hidden in the corner. It was short and silk, straps falling down past your shoulders, resting gently against your skin. The bottom pooled in the middle of your thighs, tugging up ever so slightly as you walked back to the closet.
You snapped on some diamond earrings and slipped on a pair of black heels before walking out. Lily and Aiden stopped their movements and looked as you stopped in the kitchen doorway.
"Mommy, you look so pretty!"
"Thanks, bug." You smile, grabbing your purse from the hook by the door. She walks over to you slowly, fingers fidgeting together as you look down at her. "I'll be back tonight, I promise you."
"Before pancake Saturday?"
"Before pancake Saturday." You chuckle, bringing her in for a hug. "I'm just going out with a friend. I'll be here tonight."
"Okay..." She trails nervously, slightly backing away.
"Okay. Uncle is going to stay with you until I get back."
"I hope you have fun." She mutters, lips quivering into a small smile.
"I will. I hope you have fun too, baby."
She nods, smiling before turning back to the kitchen to help Aiden. You give him a small wave before walking out the door. The sky was dark, cold. You stood outside, leaning against one of the pillars by the front doors as you waited for Lando. The moon hung in the sky, shining brightly down on the street, glowing off the buildings. Your breath was seen every time you exhaled, making you shiver as you saw it.
A sleek black McLaren rolled up in front of you, the door opening as Lando stepped out, wearing a white dress shirt and black pants. He greets you with a smile as you step forward, admiring the car that sits behind him.
“How are you?” He asks gently, wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m good, how about you?”
“Good.” He quickly glances back behind him, turning his gaze back to you. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work stuff.”
“It’s okay, I wasn’t even out here that long.” You smile. He walks you around to the passenger side of his car, opening the door for you. The heat flowing from the vents hits you gently, making your body relax into the seat as you buckle the seatbelt. Lando gets in right after, driving off down the road to the restaurant in town.
Your gaze was fixed on the interior of the car. Bright orange lights beamed from the dashboard all the way over to the passenger side, leading under the seats. “I never actually thought I’d get to be in something like this.” You say, starstruck, that you even had the opportunity to be a car like this.
“Yeah… it was the one I had at the time being.” He explains nervously. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he drove through the city. “Sorry if it’s a lot. You know, for a first date it’s not exactly ideal. I- I mean like- it’s definitely not-”
“It’s okay.” You cut him off gently. “It’s cool, actually. Being in a sports car is like a dream within itself.” Light laughter fills the car, the two of you glancing over at each other.
“Believe me, I know firsthand what it's like. This has been my dream since the beginning.”
“That’s amazing,” You smile. “Getting your dream car and everything. You must’ve been excited.”
“I was.” He puts a hand up from the steering wheel. “Accomplishing a dream is one thing, but I feel like when you accomplish a dream, and actually get to see it daily… that’s a whole different pride and joy you get to live with.”
“It is.”
“Have you ever had one? A dream?”
“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to perform at the Paris Opera Ballet.” You nod.
“That’s awesome. Are you still working on that?”
“No. I stopped a while ago. Life sort of happened.”
He pulls over to the side of the street, backing into a parking space in front of the restaurant. “I get that a lot.” He chuckles.
You couldn’t dare tell him today. Not on the first date.
The guilt stuck with you as you sat at a small table near the back of the restaurant. The room was loud with chatter from the groups around you. The hostess brought you a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses before walking back to her stand. Lando filled the glasses, setting the bottle to the side. His gaze was stuck to you as he leaned on the table, crossing his arms in the process.
“What’re you thinking?”
Your tongue rolls against your cheek. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Dating just… doesn't stick with me.”
“The men out here nowadays suck.” He nods.
Your brows raise in surprise. His face drops instantly, a hand rubbing down like he was about to die. “I- ah Jesus- I didn’t mean it like that. You- I swear like- I just-” He stutters profusely. You let a laugh slip out, instantly covering it with your hand.
“Great starter impression.” He chuckles. “Right, what I mean is that the men here suck. Especially for turning you down.”
“Thank you. But, it’s okay, you know? I’d rather be with someone who would be there for me than someone who is just there just to be there.”
“I love that. That’s a really important aspect too. That’s like…” He shakes his head. “Having someone be with you only for money or something, not the love itself.”
“Does it happen to you a lot?”
“More than you think. They always come up with some stupid sob story.”
You smile in agreement. “Right? When it’s not even close to true.”
The atmosphere in the restaurant was warm and inviting, with soft lighting casting a cozy glow over the elegantly set tables. You and Lando sat across from each other, a shared appetizer of fresh bruschetta between you, the vibrant colors of the tomatoes and basil almost too beautiful to disturb. As you each reached for a piece, your fingers brushed, causing an electric spark that made you both laugh nervously.
“So, earlier you said you were into racing?” You ask, genuinely curious about his interests. Lando leaned back in his chair, a grin forming as he tried to mask his life.
“Like I said, it’s an amazing sport.”
You point to him, smirking. “You know? You look like the guy my brother describes…” You trail, trying to match his name.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Like I said, he’s always watching the races, so it’s kind of hard not to pay attention when he’s yelling at the TV.” You giggle.
“Right, I do remember.” He puts a hand on his chest. “Personally, I do the same. Some of the drivers truly don’t know what they’re doing. I think I could do a much better job.”
“Have you ever driven so fast?”
“No. But I'm willing to give it a go. Why not?”
“I like the way you think.” You smile. “I’d definitely freak out.”
“It’s just the way of life. Sometimes it’s good to take risks and-” You found yourself hanging on his every word, not just captivated by his precision, but by the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he loved.
When he asked about you, you shared a story from your primary school years, replaying the mishap during a school play that ended with you dramatically tripping on stage, much to the amusement of your classmates. Lando chuckled heartily, the sound infectious. “I can just picture it,” he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “You must have been the star of that show!” The laughter broke the barrier further between you, making the conversation feel easy and effortless as the appetizer disappeared and the main courses were served.
The world around you seemed to fade into the background as you savored your meals. Time passed unnoticed, filled with shared stories, laughter, and glances that lingered a moment too long. Each exchange only deepened the connection you felt, as warmth blossomed in your chest—a feeling you hadn’t anticipated getting from this evening. By the time dessert arrived, you were both grinning like giddy kids, already planning your next outing, even as the night lingered on.
“I kid you not, my own best friend.” He says, sharing a story of him and his friend Max when they used to go karting.
“He crashed into you?” You and Lando laugh simultaneously.
“Landed me straight into the wall.”
“Oh my God. That’s insane- and you didn’t get scared?”
He tilted his head, eyes squinting. “Maybe a smidgen. But I was brave.”
“I’m sure that must have been a lot.”
The night carried on smoothly. Between endless glasses of wine and laughter, to the restaurant closing at its dedicated time, you felt something. A feeling that hasn’t been by your side in a long time. The car ride was silent. You stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by quickly.
A string of guilt pitted in your stomach as Lando pulled the car up in front of your apartment building. You’d completely forgotten to tell him about Lily waiting at home for you. The laughter and steady flow of the night made you completely oblivious of your daughter.
“Are you okay?” Lando asks, cutting you out of your thoughts.
You hum, turning to him to see a worried look drawn upon his face. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You're sure? You look uneasy.”
“I’m sure. I guess I just got zoned out.”
“Alright.” He pauses, giving you a small nod.
“Thank you for tonight. I had fun.” You smile.
“I did too. We should do it again.”
“What about next Friday?” You suggest.
“That would be great.” He smiles. “At the same time?”
“Yeah.”
“Awesome, it’s a date.”
“I’ll see you Friday then.”
“See you Friday.”
You step out of the car, shutting the door gently behind you as you walk inside the front doors. The elevator gently rattled with each climb of the floors, letting you think in silence. Of course… Lando didn’t have to know. Surely. Not yet, at least. The longer the guilt stayed with you, the more you felt detached from the world.
Your mind subsided from your storm of thoughts as you entered the apartment. One lamp from the living room glowed as you looked over, slipping your shoes off before walking through the doors into the living room. Aiden lay on the couch, a blanket draped over his lap as he had his eyes steady on another race that played on the TV.
He looks at you through the TV’s reflection when the screen goes black for a break, his gaze then moving to you. “How was your night?”
“Fun. Different.” You nod.
“Different?”
“Different. I actually felt something tonight.” You tell him, sitting down next to him. “I haven't felt that in years.”
“That’s a start at least, right?” You nod in agreement, eyes fixated on the commercials rolling through the TV. “Have you told him about Lil’s?”
“No.” The words felt like a knife in the stomach. “I got distracted. Once I finally remembered, I just… it was kind of too late.”
He nods slowly. Exhaustion filled his eyes. He looks over at you and leans his head against his hand. “You need to tell him.”
“I know. Please, that’s the only thing I’m worrying about now. It feels like I’m committing a fucking crime.” You snap quietly, walking into the kitchen. He slowly follows behind you, watching you carefully as you pour yourself a glass of water.
“I don’t want to upset you. I didn't want to upset you. I just thought you told him.”
You look over, annoyance filling your face. “Trust me. I started thinking about it when he pulled up to the building to drop me off. He said I didn’t look well.” You roll your eyes at the thought. “I mean, like- it’s not like I committed a crime. Why do I feel so much guilt?”
He steps closer, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “Maybe because you’re scared of losing him. And you just want someone there. Not just for Lily, but for you.” He pauses, leaning over enough to catch your gaze. “Let’s be honest… You haven’t gone on a date in years. You’re scared of losing them, but you're also scared your daughter will push them away, or think of them as a replacement.”
“Yeah.”
“If you have another date, maybe tell him then. And if he turns you down, then he’s got some real issues. I’ll go hunt him down and beat him up.” He jokes, a smirk pulling through his lips.
You chuckle, shaking your head at the thought.
“What’s this guy's name anyway?”
“Lando.”
His face drops. Jaw dropping wide open. “L-lando. As in Lando Norris!” He whisper-yells.
“Yeah. Why?”
“What are you stupid?”
Your brows furrow, body turning as you give him a look of disgust. His hands fly up to his mouth, eyes widening even more in the process. “Oh- I am so sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“It was a total accident. I- I didn't mean stupid, I meant stupid, like joking stupid, like i- if you were joking with me stupid. O- or like- like joking.” He stammers.
“Just move on.”
“Right. Lando Norris.”
“What’s so special about the name?”
“He’s in Formula One!”
“What?”
He grabs your wrist, dragging you over to the couch. “Look, look, look.” He points at the TV, specifically pointing at an orange car that was leading in first place.
“That’s why he’s so into racing?” You ask aloud, replaying when Lando asked about racing books, seemingly leading to the story about him in his karting days.
“Of course! If you had given me the name sooner, I could've let you know!”
“Okay. Stop yelling.” You say, putting your hand in the air.
“Right, sorry.”
“So… he’s an F1 driver.” You tell yourself.
“That’s actually insane.” Aiden runs a hand through his hair, turning and pacing the living room floor. “My sister went on a date with a soon-to-be Championship driver and had no idea.”
“You’re making me sound stupid.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just trying to make sense of this.”
“Make sense of this and then tell me tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”
“I will, don’t you forget about this.”
You put a thumbs-up in the air as you walk down the hallway. You changed into a pair of sweatpants and a cropped tank top, quietly making your way over to Lily’s room. It was dark, the door was cracked open. Her small butterfly nightlight lit the majority of the room. You purchased that custom-made for her after she told you about her fear of the dark earlier that year.
She was sound asleep in her bed, clutching her baby pink bunny in her arms. You walked over, the bed seemingly big enough since she slept near the edge. You crawled over her gently, snuggling yourself behind her so she still has enough room. She stirs lightly, turning lazily to meet you. You run a hand through her hair, soothing her back to sleep.
“Momma?”
“I’m right here, bug. It’s just me.” You whisper.
Her eyes flutter, slowly closing again. “Did you like…” she trails. The room falls into silence for a moment. “Like your night?”
“My night was good, baby. I’ll tell you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Okay.” She mumbles tiredly against your chest. “Love you.”
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 : 13,9k
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
The Bahamas had the kind of beauty that almost felt offensive.
The sea was too blue, too clear, too impossibly alive beneath the wash of afternoon sun. The white sand looked powdered, untouched, like something made for postcards instead of people. Palm trees bent lazily in the warm breeze, shadows sliding across the terrace of the sprawling beachfront Airbnb Lando had rented for himself and his friends. The house was ridiculous in the way only money could make things ridiculous: glass walls, an infinity pool spilling toward the ocean, white stone floors that stayed cool under bare feet, soft ambient lighting that made everything look expensive even in silence.
It should have felt like paradise.
And for everyone else, maybe it did.
Music drifted from the outdoor speakers while Max Fewtrell shouted something from the pool, his voice mixing with Tom’s laughter and Eddie’s mocking reply. Pietra was stretched out on a lounger with sunglasses on, one arm dangling toward the water while Alissa sat beside her with a drink sweating in her hand. Keegan had a football tucked under one arm and was trying, unsuccessfully, to convince everyone to play.
The whole place was alive with the easy, careless joy of people who had come to forget themselves for a week.
Lando stood at the edge of the terrace with a glass in his hand and looked out at the ocean.
A month ago, he had won the world championship.
If he said it in his head enough times, it still didn’t sound real. The thing he had chased for years, the thing that had shaped every sacrifice, every pressure headache, every lonely hotel room, every impossible expectation, it was his now. He had crossed the finish line with his heart in his throat and the radio exploding in his ears, and afterward there had been noise and cameras and hands on his shoulders and champagne and tears he hadn’t meant to let anyone see.
He had done it. He had really done it.
And yet, standing there in the gold spill of a Bahamian sunset, the glass cool in his hand, he felt hollow in a way he didn’t know how to explain.
He had thought winning would fix something.
He hadn’t known what, exactly. The restlessness maybe. The constant ache. The strange, gnawing loneliness that had followed him even in rooms full of people chanting his name. He had thought there would be some finality to it, some peace. A door closing. A wound healing.
Instead, he had won, and the world had gotten louder.
Everyone wanted something from him now.
His time, his face, his smile, his attention. More interviews, more congratulations from people who barely knew him. More women who looked at him like he was a trophy they could touch. More strangers insisting they understood him because they had seen him cry behind a visor.
He was exhausted by being seen and not known.
“Oi!”
He turned his head.
Max was waist-deep in the pool, damp hair pushed back, squinting against the light. “You planning to stand there looking tragic all holiday or are you getting in?”
Lando huffed a laugh through his nose. “I am in holiday mode.”
“That’s your holiday mode?” Tom called from somewhere behind Max. “You look like someone just told you the next F1 season is cancelled.”
Pietra lifted her sunglasses just enough to peer over them. “Leave him alone. Maybe he’s being contemplative.”
“Contemplative?” Max barked out a laugh. “He’s twenty-six, not eighty-six.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth tugged anyway. Around them, the light deepened from gold to amber, softening the edges of everything. Beyond the terrace, the sea moved in slow, glossy ripples, eternal and indifferent.
He should have been happy.
He was happy, he told himself.
Just tired.
That was the answer he gave most people because it was easy, because nobody pushed when you said tired. Tired implied sleep could fix it. Tired sounded temporary.
No one wanted to hear that sometimes he felt like his own life was happening at a distance, as if he were watching it from behind glass.
By the time they all started getting ready to go out, the house had fallen into that chaotic, familiar rhythm of shared pre-drinks and half-finished conversations shouted through open doors.
Tom had control of the speaker now, which meant the music had gotten worse.
Alissa was in one of the upstairs bathrooms doing her makeup while telling Pietra a story loud enough for half the house to hear. Max was somehow dressed before everyone else and already on his second drink, leaning in the kitchen doorway like he had never been burdened by a serious thought in his life.
Lando came downstairs last.
A black shirt, open at the throat. Dark trousers. A watch worth more than he liked to think about. Hair styled just enough to look effortless.
The second he stepped into the open-plan living room, there was a short pause.
Tom looked up first and grinned. “There he is. World champion aura.”
“Shut up,” Lando said.
“No, genuinely,” Alissa said, appearing from the hall. “It’s disgusting, actually. You somehow look richer.”
“More insufferable too,” Max added.
Pietra glanced over, then smiled. “You do look nice.”
Lando dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Thanks.”
Eddie finally got his shoe back and shoved it on. “Tonight’s easy for you anyway.”
Lando frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Everyone exchanged the kind of look that was only funny if you weren’t the one receiving it.
Tom spread his hands. “Mate. Be serious.”
Keegan snorted. “You’re Lando Norris.”
“And now,” Max said with exaggerated importance, stepping forward as if delivering a grand announcement, “Lando Norris, Formula 1 World Champion, girls will be throwing themself at you.”
“Oh my God,” Lando muttered. “You’re unbearable.”
“But are we wrong?” Alissa asked.
He didn’t answer.
That was the problem, really. They weren’t wrong.
The club they went to was one of those painfully exclusive places designed to make exclusivity itself feel like part of the entertainment.
A low, bass-heavy pulse vibrating through polished walls before they even got inside. The sort of place where everyone looked expensive and half the people there were trying very hard to be noticed pretending they weren’t.
A hostess with a perfect smile and slicked-back hair guided them toward a raised VIP booth overlooking the main floor. Everything below was a blur of colored lights and moving bodies, perfume and heat and laughter sharpened by alcohol. The music was loud enough to be felt in bone.
Lando sank onto the curved leather seat and accepted the drink someone placed in his hand.
From up there, he could see almost everything.
People dancing in packs under pink and violet lights. Tables glittering with bottles and sparklers and forced fun. Faces turned toward phones every few seconds, capturing themselves from angles they had practiced. Everybody performing enjoyment as if they were terrified of what might happen if they stopped.
His friends adapted instantly.
Max disappeared into conversation with a group at the next table within minutes. Tom was laughing already, one arm slung around Eddie’s shoulder. Pietra and Alissa had gone to dance. Keegan was talking to someone near the bar, half shouting over the music.
Lando stayed seated, drink in hand, one ankle over the opposite knee.
At some point, one of the girls who had been circling near their section for the past twenty minutes made her move.
She didn’t ask permission before sliding into the empty space beside him.
“Hi,” she said, leaning close enough that he could smell her perfume over the club and over his drink, something sharp and sweet and heavy. “You looked lonely.”
Lando turned his head and gave her a small smile because that was easier than immediate rejection, especially when he didn’t yet have the energy for a conversation.
“Did I?”
“A little.”
Her hand landed lightly on the edge of the table near his glass, her nails pale and immaculate, her whole posture arranged toward him as if she had already decided she would be welcome there.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I am.”
That answer seemed to delight her.
Lando looked back toward the dance floor, then at the bottle on the table, then finally at her again. Under different circumstances, years ago maybe, he probably would have found her attractive in a way that felt more active than observational. She was beautiful. Obviously. But all he could really feel now was the weight of the room, the noise of it, and the faint emptiness of being wanted in ways that no longer seemed to require any effort from anyone involved.
“You're Lando Norris right?” she asked.
“Yeah, and you are?” he asked, mostly because silence would have been ruder than he had the appetite to be.
“Victoria.”
He nodded once, taking a sip of his drink.
Victoria shifted a little closer, enough that her leg brushed his for a second in the booth. Not accidental. Nothing about her was accidental. She looked at him through lashes that had probably taken time to achieve this exact shape of effortless.
“So,” she asked, “world champion. How does that feel?”
He let out a short breath through his nose, halfway between a laugh and something more tired.
“Depends when you ask.”
She tilted her head. “And now?”
Lando glanced around the club. Max was somewhere deeper in the room with Tom and Eddie, already dragged into the sort of loud holiday conversation that would stretch toward sunrise if left unchecked. Pietra and Alissa were dancing. Everyone looked like they were having the kind of fun the night had been designed to provide.
And he, sitting in a private booth with a beautiful blonde pressing a little too close and calling him world champion like it was a flirtation line rather than a title he had bled for, felt strangely absent from all of it.
“Now?” he said. “Loud.”
Victoria laughed as if he’d said something more charming than he actually had.
“I can help with that.”
The line was obvious enough to be almost old-fashioned, but she delivered it with confidence, which probably made it work on plenty of men. She reached for his glass then, took it from his hand without asking, and sipped from the same side before giving it back. Her eyes stayed on him while she did it, gauging him, testing.
Lando took the glass but didn’t drink.
Normally, maybe, he would have played the game a little more cleanly. Flirted properly or shut it down properly. Done one thing or the other. But tonight he seemed unable to commit to either. He wasn’t interested, not really. And yet he was too tired, too disconnected, to push her away with the firmness she probably deserved if he truly wanted the interaction over. So he stayed in that useless middle ground, not encouraging enough to feel fully engaged, not distant enough to end it.
Victoria, unfortunately, seemed very good at treating that kind of passivity as permission.
She smiled again, softer now, more private.
“You’re quieter than I expected,” she said.
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know.” She leaned in, shoulder almost brushing his chest now. “More celebration. More…” She made a vague gesture with one hand. “Energy.”
Lando laughed once. “Disappointing, then.”
“Not yet.”
There was something almost predatory in the patience of that answer, though wrapped well enough in flirtation that most people probably wouldn’t have called it that. She had decided he was attainable, or at least worth pursuing, and she seemed willing to do most of the work herself.
He looked at her for a second longer than necessary, trying to work out whether his boredom made this feel meaner than it otherwise would have.
Victoria took his silence and smiled as if he had just admitted something.
“See?” she said. “You’re not asking me to leave.”
It was a light sentence. Playful. But it landed oddly.
Lando leaned back against the booth. “Should I?”
She laughed again, pleased rather than warned. “No.”
Then her hand touched his wrist.
It was a simple gesture, not even especially bold by the standards of the room, but intimate enough that it should probably have prompted a real response from him one way or another. Instead he looked down at it, then back up at her, and felt only that same strange emptiness widening under the noise.
He could have kissed her, maybe.
Could have gone through the motions, let the night become the sort of night it had expected from him from the second he walked in. She would have made it easy. That was the whole point. He could see it already in the confidence of her posture, in the way she’d angled herself toward him, in how quickly she laughed at things he hadn’t even intended as jokes.
And God, that was exactly the problem.
Easy.
Everything about it was too easy now.
“So,” Victoria said, tracing one finger idly along the back of his hand, “are you always this difficult, or do I just need another drink before you become interesting?”
That finally got a proper smile out of him, though it was brief.
“There he is,” she murmured.
But the truth was, even smiling, felt wrong. Her beauty did nothing to sharpen him into wanting. It only made the whole interaction feel like a role he had already played too many times and no longer had the energy to perform well.
Victoria mistook his silence again for invitation.
She moved even closer, her mouth near his ear now to get around the music. “We could get out of here for a bit.”
Lando turned his head slightly, enough to hear her properly.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
He had.
And still, for one second, he didn’t dismiss her.
Not because he wanted to go.
Not because he was tempted.
But because some old reflex in him still lagged behind what he actually felt. The version of himself who let nights like this carry him wherever they wanted because there was no reason not to, still existed enough to create a pause before refusal. And Victoria, sharp enough to read weakness when she saw it, seemed to take that pause as a victory.
Her smile deepened.
“I know somewhere quieter,” she said.
That was the moment something in him recoiled fully.
Not from her exactly, but from the whole shape of the night. From the script. From how predictable it suddenly felt. From the fact that she was beautiful and interested and half in his lap in a private club in the Bahamas and all he could think about was how exhausted he was.
Lando sat up a little straighter and gently took his hand back.
“No actually I'm good.”
Victoria blinked.
It wasn’t outrage. More confusion. As if she had already moved several steps ahead in her head and had not expected the path to disappear under her.
“No?” she repeated.
He shook his head once. “No.”
For a second, she looked as if she might push harder. Test whether the refusal was real or just another stage in the game.
Then she smiled again, but thinner now.
“Your loss.”
“Probably,” he said, though they both knew he didn’t mean it.
Victoria looked at him for another second, perhaps trying to decide whether he was acting bored to increase his own value or whether he was genuinely not interested. Then she slid out of the booth with all the same practiced grace she’d used coming in.
“Maybe another night,” she said.
Lando didn’t answer.
He watched her disappear back into the room and felt, not triumph, not relief exactly, but something closer to quiet disgust. Not with her, mostly with the way his life had made all of this so automatic.
His gaze drifted past the vip booth and swept over the dance floor below.
And that was when the thought hit him, sudden and ugly in its clarity.
They all looked the same.
Not exactly, of course. Different dresses, different faces, different voices. But also not different at all. The same polished smile, the same surgically perfected softness in the same places, the same dresses, the same impossible heels, the same brittle laugh that sounded a second too late, like an echo of what it thought laughter should be.
Beautiful, yes, but empty in a way that made his chest ache.
Or maybe he was the empty one. Maybe that was the real problem.
He took a slow sip of his drink and felt loneliness settle heavily behind his ribs.
Below him, his friends were having fun. Real fun. Max had Pietra laughing at something while Tom was dancing like an idiot beside them, entirely unashamed. Alissa was holding onto Eddie’s shoulder to keep from falling over.
Everyone looked alive.
Lando felt like a ghost in his own celebration.
“Mate.”
He looked up.
Max slid into the seat beside him, drink in hand, face slightly flushed from alcohol and heat. “Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve just been told your dog died.”
Lando gave him a flat look. “That’s dramatic.”
Max glanced past him, then leaned a little closer. “The blonde girl’s still looking at you, by the way.”
Lando followed his gaze automatically. Near the end of the booth, Victoria was indeed still watching him.
She smiled when she caught him looking.
He looked away first.
Max frowned. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“That. What was that?”
Lando took another sip. “Nothing.”
“No, no. Don’t do that.” Max nudged his arm. “She’s been into you since we got here.”
“So?”
“So?” Max repeated, incredulous. “Since when is that a so?”
Lando stared down at the amber liquid in his glass. The ice clinked softly when he tilted it.
“I don’t know,” he said after a moment.
Max watched him, confusion turning slowly into suspicion. “Are you ill?”
Lando let out a quiet laugh. “What?”
“I’m serious. Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
Lando shook his head, but Max didn’t laugh with him.
“Normally,” Max continued, “you’d have been over there ten minutes ago.”
“Maybe I’m growing as a person.”
Max stared. “That’s the least convincing thing you’ve ever said.”
For the first time that night, a real smile almost broke through. Almost.
Then it faded.
Lando rubbed a hand over his jaw and looked back out over the club. “It’s too easy.”
Max blinked. “Too easy?”
“Yeah.”
“What does that even mean?”
Lando shrugged, though it felt stiff. “I don’t know. It’s just...”
He searched for the words and hated that they didn’t come naturally.
“She’s already into me,” he said at last. “Before I’ve even said anything worth being into.”
Max barked out a short laugh. “Right. Tragic.”
“No, but that’s what I mean.” Lando turned to him, frustration creeping into his voice. “What’s the point?”
Max’s expression shifted. “The point is you find her fit, she finds you fit, you flirt, you hook up, everyone has a nice time. This has literally never confused you before.”
“That’s not...” Lando stopped, exhaled. “It used to feel different.”
“How?”
“There used to be...” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Something. A chase, I guess.”
Max stared at him for a beat, then leaned back slightly as if inspecting him from a safer distance.
“A chase ? When do you think you are living, in the 17th century?” he mocked him.
Lando looked at him. “Don’t.”
But Max was laughing now, properly laughing, eyes bright with disbelief. “No, because what is this? Since when have you become some tragic poet in a nightclub?”
Lando tried to smile, but it didn’t hold.
Max’s laughter faded first.
The bass from the speakers rolled through the booth. Around them, glasses clinked, strangers shouted, someone squealed in delight below. The whole room glittered with movement.
“You’re serious ?” Max said quietly.
Lando looked away.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Max lowered his voice. “What’s actually going on?”
That should have been easy to answer.
He could have said nothing. Could have shrugged it off, made some joke, blamed the jet lag or the hangover he didn’t have. Max would have accepted it eventually. They all would.
But the truth had been pressing against the inside of his chest for days now, maybe longer, and the alcohol had softened the edges enough that he couldn’t hold it back the same way.
“I won,” Lando said.
Max frowned. “Yeah.”
“I won the championship.”
“Yes, mate. I was there.”
Lando swallowed. “And I thought it would feel different after.”
A flicker passed over Max’s face. Not confusion now. Something more careful.
“Different how?”
Lando gave a helpless little shake of his head. “I don’t know. Better. Quieter.” He stared out at the dance floor. “Like maybe I’d stop feeling like I’m constantly running after something.”
Max didn’t interrupt.
Instead, he let the silence sit there between them, rare and gentle.
Lando laughed once, but there was no humor in it. “That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”
“No.”
Lando gripped his glass harder than he needed to. “Everyone keeps looking at me like I should be the happiest person in the world.”
“Well...”
“I am happy,” he said quickly, defensively, as if Max had accused him of ingratitude. “I know what I’ve got. I know how lucky I am. I know people would kill for this life.”
Max nodded once. “I know you know.”
“But it’s like...” He broke off again, jaw tightening. The words felt jagged in his throat. “It’s like I got this thing. The best thing. And for a minute it was everything. Then the minute ended and I was still me and I still feel like crap.”
Max looked down at his drink.
That hurt more than Lando had expected it to, saying it out loud.
“So no,” he said after a moment, voice quieter now. “I can’t do it anymore.”
Max turned back to him. “Can’t do what?”
“This.” Lando gestured vaguely at the room, at Victoria circling the booth, at the whole glittering machinery of it. “Pretend I want something just because it’s easy to have. Pretend I don’t notice when it feels fake.”
Max was silent.
Lando swallowed hard. The room suddenly felt too hot, the air too close.
“They all laugh at everything I say now,” he murmured, more to himself than to Max. “Even when I’m not funny. Even when I say nothing. They look at me and they already know who I’m supposed to be.” He let out a shaky breath. “And maybe that should be flattering, but it just makes me feel...” He searched again, then gave up. “Alone.”
Something in Max’s face changed then. The teasing disappeared completely, leaving behind only concern and something almost sad.
“You should’ve talk to me sooner.”
Lando gave a small, tired smile. “And tell you what? That being world champion has made me weirdly existential ?”
Max snorted despite himself. “When you put it like that, yeah, a bit pathetic.”
That got a real laugh out of Lando, brief and frayed though it was.
Then Max sobered again. “Still. You don’t have to sit here and suffer through it.”
Lando looked around once more.
Then he set his drink down.
“I think I’m going home.”
Max studied him for a second. “You want me to come?”
Lando shook his head. “No. Stay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Max hesitated, then nodded. “Alright.”
Lando stood, smoothing a hand over the front of his shirt. For some reason the movement felt heavier than it should have, like pulling himself through water.
Max caught his wrist lightly before he could go.
“Lan.”
He looked down.
“You’re allowed to not be okay all the time,” Max said. “Even now.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
Lando looked away first, throat suddenly tight. “I know.”
But he wasn’t sure he did.
He left the booth alone.
No dramatic exit. No scene. Just a quiet nod to the others when they noticed him slipping away, a vague gesture that meant tired, going back, don’t worry. Tom frowned but accepted it. Pietra gave him a small, searching look. Alissa mouthed are you okay? and he gave her a thumbs up he didn’t mean.
Then he was weaving through the crowd, the music pounding against his spine, bodies brushing against him in the dark.
Outside, the night air hit him like mercy.
Warm, salted, alive.
The club’s bass throbbed dully behind the walls, muted now by distance. In front of him, the street glowed under scattered lights, palm shadows stretching long and black over the pavement. Somewhere farther off, he could hear the sea.
He exhaled slowly.
For the first time all night, he felt like he could breathe.
The sky was clear.
A dark velvet expanse pricked through with stars, careless in their beauty. The kind of sky you only really noticed when you were sad enough to look for something bigger than yourself.
He thought about the championship trophy sitting back at the house.
About the endless congratulations.
About the women in the club with their perfect smiles and empty interest.
About how he had everything he had ever wanted and still felt like there was some unnamed grief living quietly inside him.
The music still followed him for a while.
Even after the club had disappeared behind him, swallowed by palm trees and expensive walls and the careless glitter of people who didn’t know when to stop, the bass seemed lodged somewhere under Lando’s skin. A dull thud. A pulse that lingered in his ribs long after the sound itself had faded.
One of the taxi driver stepped forward politely. “Mr. Norris?”
Lando shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll walk.”
The man looked surprised, though he covered it quickly. “Sir, it’s a bit of a distance.”
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t really fine. It was late, and he was tired, and his shirt still smelled faintly of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke and the stale air of a room full of people pretending to be interested in one another. But the map on his phone said thirty minutes if he followed the coastline, and right then thirty minutes of silence felt less like inconvenience and more like survival.
He needed to think.
Or maybe not think at all.
That was the problem. His head was too full and too empty at the same time.
So he left the road, cut down toward the beach, and let the dark open up around him.
At night the Bahamas became something else entirely.
The daytime version felt like a performance sometimes, too beautiful to be fully real. But at night the island softened. The sea turned black and silver, the horizon vanished, and the only light came in broken pieces: the moon caught in the waves, the dim glow from distant resorts, the occasional amber shimmer from a house set high above the shore.
The beach was mostly empty.
Just wind and tide and his own footsteps pressing into damp sand.
He loosened the top button of his shirt as he walked. His shoes sank slightly with every step, the air warm but no longer suffocating, and little by little the tension in his chest began to shift. Not ease, exactly. Just move. Become something he could carry without feeling crushed by it.
He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
And that was what unsettled him most.
Because the season had been brutal, emotionally, physically, mentally, in every possible way. There had been weekends where he could barely hear himself think over the pressure, races where his heart had pounded so hard before lights out he’d thought he might be sick, endless meetings and debriefs and travel and expectations and headlines dissecting every choice he made. He’d been stretched thin for months. There had been nights he’d barely slept and mornings he’d woken up already exhausted.
And still, somehow, he found himself wishing he could go back.
Back to the circuits, the rhythm, the purpose.
Back to something that made sense.
At least there, every feeling had a reason.
Stress belonged to lap times. Fear belonged to corners taken too fast. Frustration belonged to strategy calls and tyre degradation and impossible margins. Even when it was painful, it was clean. Understandable. There was always something to do with it.
This, this strange, hollow ache in the middle of paradise, had nowhere to go.
He glanced down at his phone just to check the map again, the blue line cutting along the coastline toward the villa.
He kept walking.
His mind drifted where it always drifted when he was tired enough not to stop it.
Back to the first year.
Back to the strange, disorienting beginning of becoming someone people recognized.
Formula 1 had changed his life in all the obvious ways first. The travel, the money, the cameras, the constant movement. His name taking up more space than it used to. Suddenly people knowing who he was before he introduced himself. Suddenly rooms opening. Invitations arriving. Doors unlocking.
Girls had been a whole different thing.
It sounded pathetic when put plainly. Embarrassing, even. But it was true.
When he was younger, he hadn’t exactly been the type girls his age lost their minds over. He had not been the obvious one. Not the effortlessly desired one. He had been lanky and awkward in ways that had taken time to smooth out, too busy with racing and travel and his own uncertainty to know what to do with himself in normal teenage spaces. Other boys had seemed to understand flirting instinctively. They had known how to stand, how to talk, how to touch, how to take up room in a way that drew people in.
Lando had mostly known cars.
And then, gradually, everything shifted.
He got older. More exposed. More confident, or at least better at pretending. The money came. The fame sharpened. His face became more familiar, his life more desirable from the outside. People started looking at him differently. Women too. Suddenly what had once felt inaccessible became easy, almost absurdly easy.
He’d enjoyed it.
He could admit that.
He had slept with his share of women. He had enjoyed the attention, the ego boost, the uncomplicated thrill of being wanted without having to ask for it. There had been something intoxicating about it at first, something healing in a shallow sort of way. To be looked at like that. To be chosen. To realize that the version of himself who had once felt too awkward, too boyish, too outside of it all had become the kind of man women noticed before he even spoke.
It had soothed something old and ugly in him.
A complex he’d never named because naming it would have made it real.
And for a while that had been enough.
Maybe more than enough.
But somewhere along the line, the whole thing had started to feel repetitive. Then mechanical. Then empty. Not all at once. Quietly. Gradually. The way disillusion usually happened, so slowly you only noticed it once it had already taken root.
He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled.
“Jesus,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe Max is right.”
Maybe he was getting emotional.
Maybe this was what happened when you won the thing you’d built your entire life around and discovered that underneath all the noise you were still just a person with the same mess inside him.
The beach grew darker as he walked farther from the main strip of hotels and clubs.
There were fewer lights here, fewer signs of life. Just the moon, thin and pale, and the long band of sand stretching in both directions. His footsteps softened in the damp edges of the shore. Somewhere farther inland, a palm frond rattled in the breeze.
He might have missed her at first if she hadn’t been moving toward him.
A pale shape in the distance.
At first just a silhouette against the dark, too far to make out clearly. He slowed almost without thinking, eyes narrowing. For a second he thought it might be a trick of the light, some bit of fabric caught on driftwood, maybe, or someone much farther away than he’d assumed.
But no.
It was person, walking toward him.
As the distance between them closed, the figure sharpened.
A woman.
She had very long hair, dark and wavy, falling almost to the end of her back. The wind kept lifting strands of it around her shoulders, tangling them against the white fabric of her dress. It was long too, though not designed for beaches, something soft and elegant that probably belonged under chandeliers and not under moonlight on uneven sand. In one hand she held a pair of heels, and every few steps she seemed to stumble slightly as her bare feet sank into the shore.
There was something disoriented in the way she moved.
Not drunk exactly.
Just… lost.
Lando slowed more.
And then she got close enough for him to see her face.
Her makeup was running.
Not badly enough to look messy, somehow, but enough that the evidence of it sat stark under the moonlight: darkened lashes clinging together, the faint smudged shadow beneath her eyes, the wet shine of tears still slipping silently down her cheeks. Her expression looked strangely blank, as if whatever had upset her had happened long enough ago for the first shock to pass but not long enough for her to know what to do with herself afterward.
He felt something in his chest tighten.
She saw him at nearly the same moment and she startled.
It was small, but unmistakable, the way her shoulders tensed, the way she stopped dead, the way her fingers closed harder around her heels. Her entire body seemed to pull inward on instinct.
Lando immediately understood why.
A woman alone, in the middle of the night, on a dark beach, meeting a man she didn’t know.
He lifted his hands slightly, palms open, stopping where he was so he wouldn’t seem like he was closing in on her.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, gently. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She didn’t answer.
Up close, she looked younger than he’d first thought. Not young-young, but maybe around his age. Her eyes were dark, wide with the kind of caution that came before trust, and there was something almost painfully fragile in the way she stood there trying not to show she was afraid.
He kept his voice calm. “Are you okay?”
She stared at him for a second, breathing a little too shallowly.
“Do you need help with something?” he asked.
Another pause.
For a moment he wondered if she didn’t speak English. There was hesitation in her face that wasn’t only fear; it looked like she was translating, measuring, deciding whether it was worth answering at all.
Then finally she spoke.
“My phone…” Her voice was soft, roughened slightly as if she’d been crying for a while. She lifted the device in one hand and showed it to him. The screen was completely black. “It just died.”
As if to prove she wasn’t inventing an excuse, she pressed the side button. Nothing happened.
“I was with friends,” she added, swallowing. “But I lost them.”
Lando looked at the dead screen, then back at her face.
There was no performance in her. No recognition. No widening of the eyes that said she knew exactly who he was and was about to act accordingly.
She looked scared, tired, and upset.
“Right,” he said softly. “Okay.”
He pulled his own phone from his pocket and unlocked it without thinking. “Use mine.”
The offer came so naturally he only realized what he’d done after he had already held it out.
Normally he would never, not to a stranger.
Definitely not his phone.
There was far too much on it he didn’t want floating around: messages, photos, private notes, group chats, pieces of his life the press would love to get their hands on and twist into headlines. He was careful with personal things. Paranoid sometimes, probably for good reason.
But standing there on a dark beach, looking at this woman in her ruined makeup and white dress and obvious distress, that instinct simply didn’t arrive in time.
She blinked, surprised.
“That would be very kind,” she said.
Then, more carefully, as though she still couldn’t quite believe he meant it: “Thank you.”
He stepped closer just enough to hand it to her.
Her fingers brushed his for the briefest second, cold despite the heat of the night.
She moved a little away from him to make the calls, which he appreciated. She angled the phone away and tucked some hair behind her ear, then brought it to her face.
The first call rang.
No answer.
She lowered the phone, pressed another number. Waited again.
Nothing.
A third.
Still nothing.
Lando watched her expression change with every unanswered call. Not dramatic disappointment, just a kind of resigned hurt, as if each silence confirmed something she had already begun to fear.
Eventually she lowered the phone and came back toward him, holding it out with both hands this time.
“It is no use,” she said quietly. “They are probably busy or something.”
Busy.
The word bothered him more than it should have.
What sort of friends left someone alone long enough on a foreign island for her to end up wandering down the beach in tears with a dead phone?
He took the phone back, his mouth tightening.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
She named the hotel, then pointed vaguely behind him, farther along the coast.
Lando frowned immediately. “That way?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s...” He glanced down at his map, then turned the screen toward her. “You’re going the wrong direction.”
She stepped closer to look.
In the dim light from the phone, he got a better look at her face. She was beautiful, but not in the glossy, predictable way. Her features were softer, more arresting because they felt uncurated. Dark eyes, a straight nose, full mouth now parted with tired disbelief. Even with the streaks from her tears, maybe especially with them, there was something heartbreakingly human about her.
He pointed at the screen. “See? You were here. Your hotel is up there. You’ve gone past the turn.”
For a second she just stared at the map.
Then she looked up at him, exhausted and incredulous. “You are kidding.”
A tired little laugh escaped her, humorless and on the edge of despair. “I have been walking for, like, ages.”
“Yeah,” Lando said gently. “Looks like it.”
She closed her eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose, still holding the heels loose in one hand. For a moment she looked less frightened than simply done. Worn out in that quiet way where a person stops expecting things to improve.
The sight of it made something in him twist unexpectedly.
She was not okay. That much was obvious now. Whether because of whatever had happened before he found her or because the night had just become too much afterward, he didn’t know. But she looked like someone only still standing because she had not yet been given permission to collapse.
He glanced once at the dark stretch of beach ahead, then back at her.
“My villa’s in the same area,” he said. “Not far from your hotel.”
She looked at him carefully again, mistrust flickering back in for only a second. Sensible. Necessary.
He kept his tone easy. “You can walk with me, if you want. It's the same direction anyway.”
She didn’t answer straight away.
The waves broke softly behind them.
Wind moved her hair across one shoulder, and she pushed it back with fingers that seemed faintly unsteady. Up close, he could see she was trying very hard to hold herself together.
“You do not have to,” she said after a moment.
“It’s fine.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me.”
She searched his face then, maybe for mockery, maybe for hidden intention, maybe just for the thing that would tell her whether saying yes was a mistake.
Lando let her look.
Finally she nodded.
“Okay,” she said softly.
Then, with a small attempt at politeness that made his chest ache for reasons he didn’t understand, she added, “Thank you… very much.”
He gave her a faint smile. “No problem.”
They started walking side by side.
Not close enough to touch. Not far enough to feel like strangers anymore.
For the first few moments, neither of them said anything. The beach stretched ahead in silver and shadow, their footsteps falling unevenly into the sand. She was slower than he was, and he adjusted without making it obvious. Every so often she shifted the heels from one hand to the other as though they had become heavier with time.
He looked over after a minute. “You want me to carry those?”
She glanced down at the shoes in her hand, then back at him, startled as if the offer itself had not occurred to her.
“Oh. No, it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Then a beat later, with a tiny breath that was almost a laugh, “I think if I lose them too, it would be a very bad night.”
That got a quiet smile out of him.
“Fair.”
They walked a few more steps.
Then she said, “I am sorry if I looked rude before.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.” She drew in a breath. “I was just… scared.”
“I know.”
That seemed to surprise her more than anything else.
Most men, he guessed, would have taken offense. Would have wanted reassurance that they looked trustworthy, that they were different, that they personally should not be included in a woman’s fear.
Lando didn’t.
He knew what the world was like. Knew what women had to calculate every day without ever saying it aloud.
Something in her shoulders loosened after that.
Only a little. But enough.
A minute later she said, “What is your name?”
He glanced at her.
There it was. The ordinary question. Simple. Innocent. Usually loaded for him in ways it wasn’t for most people.
“Lando,” he said.
She repeated it softly, her accent curling around the vowels. “Lando.”
For some reason, hearing his name in her voice sounded different than he was used to. Less practiced. Less impressed. Like it was just a name.
“And you?” he asked.
She hesitated.
Then, very quietly, “Valentina.”
He turned the name over in his mind as they walked.
Valentina.
It suited her too well.
The beach stretched ahead of them in a long ribbon of silver and shadow, the sea rolling in beside them with that endless, patient sound that seemed to belong to another world entirely. Far behind, the noise of the clubs and bars had faded into nothing. Here there was only the hush of the tide, the wind moving across the sand, and the soft uneven rhythm of their footsteps.
Lando kept his pace slow.
Valentina was clearly struggling with the dress.
It was beautiful, but completely wrong for this. The white fabric clung around her legs whenever the wind pressed it against her, and every few steps the hem dragged in the sand, gathering weight. She had to lift it slightly with one hand to stop herself from tripping, while the other still held the pair of heels she had given up trying to wear. Her hair, long and dark and wild from the sea air, kept blowing into her face. She pushed it back absently every now and then, but most of the time she seemed too tired to bother.
He watched her almost stumble again and glanced away quickly before it looked too obvious.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said automatically.
The answer came too quickly.
He looked at her. “You sure?”
She gave a small, embarrassed smile. “No. But I will survive.”
That made him huff a laugh.
For a moment they walked in silence again, the kind that didn’t feel awkward so much as uncertain, both of them still measuring the shape of the other. Lando looked ahead at the dim lights in the distance, then back at her.
“So where were you going tonight?” he asked. “Before all of this.”
Valentina adjusted the dress again and exhaled through her nose, like the whole night had exhausted her beyond proper annoyance.
“Some fancy restaurant,” she said. She lifted one shoulder. “Then my friends wanted to go to the club.”
She said club with a faint distaste that made him glance at her again.
“I don’t really like this sort of place,” she continued. “But they said they were only going for a few minutes to get some drinks, and I did not want to make a problem. So I told them I would wait by the beach for a little while.”
Her mouth twisted.
“My phone died. I had no idea of the time. And…” She looked down at the sand as she walked. “Well. I think they forgot about me.”
Lando stopped for half a second before catching himself and continuing.
Forgot about her.
He felt a flash of anger sharp enough to surprise him. Not dramatic anger, not loud, just a hot and immediate disbelief.
Who did that?
Who left someone alone in the middle of the night on an island she clearly didn’t know, then didn’t even notice she was gone?
He looked over at her, at the tired set of her shoulders, the dried tracks of tears still silvering her cheeks in the moonlight.
“That’s…” He hesitated, not wanting to come in too harshly. “That’s really shit, actually.”
She let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh.
“Yeah.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, then took one back out again when the sand shifted awkwardly under his shoes.
“I mean,” he said carefully, “I don’t want to offend you, but they don’t sound like very good friends.”
He half expected her to bristle at that. But instead she laughed.
Not loudly. Not brightly. Just a tired, disbelieving little laugh that vanished almost as soon as it appeared.
“No,” she said. “I suppose they do not.”
Lando looked at her, and she shook her head slightly as if at herself.
“I don’t really know why I came,” she admitted. “Well...” she corrected, “I know why, but it was stupid.”
“It probably wasn’t.”
“It was a little stupid.”
There was enough self-awareness in the way she said it that he smiled despite himself.
“I only really know one of the girls,” she went on. “She is getting married. She invited all her bridesmaids for a girls-only trip.” Her expression softened briefly, but not enough to hide the disappointment underneath. “I thought it would be nice. You know? To enjoy the sun, the beach… maybe talk to the other girls, get along with them.”
She gave a tiny shrug.
“But apparently it is mostly an excuse to get drunk and flirt with boys, which is not really my thing anyway.”
Something about the way she said it, matter-of-fact, not judgmental, just tired, made him look away toward the sea.
He could almost hear Max laughing in his head.
Get drunk and flirt with girls.
That had been his plan tonight too, hadn’t it? Or something close enough. Maybe not even plan. Just habit. Instinct. The expected shape of a night out. Drink, laugh, pick someone, forget yourself for a few hours.
Yet now, walking beside her, he found himself weirdly reluctant to admit it.
Not because he was ashamed exactly.
At least not in the usual sense.
But because the idea of her folding him into that version of men, the loud, drunk, easy sort she clearly had no interest in, bothered him more than it should have.
“I don’t judge them,” she added after a moment, glancing at him. “Really. They can do what they want. I just… would have liked to know before I took a week off for this.”
He nodded. “That’s fair.”
She looked down at the hem of her dress, gathering it a little higher to keep it from catching.
“I could have gone somewhere else,” she murmured. “Or stayed home. Or gone with my sister to the coast, where at least there are no clubs.”
There was such quiet certainty in the answer that it pulled another little laugh out of him.
He watched her for a second, then looked away again before she could catch him doing it.
He wanted to ask what she did.
Not in the shallow, automatic way people asked each other at parties, only to wait impatiently for their turn to speak. He actually wanted to know. There was something about her that made him curious in a way he hadn’t felt around someone in a long time. Maybe because she didn’t seem to be performing herself for him. Maybe because she had no idea who he was and so every answer she gave felt clean of expectation.
But he hesitated.
The question felt strangely intimate out here in the dark. Too direct, maybe. Too close to turning this into one of those exchanges where the magic disappeared under the weight of ordinary details.
Before he could decide, she saved him from it anyway.
“And you?” she asked, glancing up at him. “What are you doing here alone on the beach in the middle of the night?”
He looked down at her, caught a little off guard.
The truthful version was easy enough: I went out with friends, got bored, left.
The fuller truth was uglier and more embarrassing.
He went out because I thought maybe some girl would distract me him whatever is wrong with him. He sat in a VIP booth and let strangers flirt with him and found himself unable to care. He left because suddenly the whole thing felt hollow in a way he could no longer ignore.
He chose the simpler version.
“I went out with friends,” he said. “To a club.”
Her expression shifted immediately into something halfway between sympathy and amused horror.
“And?”
“And I got bored.”
That much, at least, was true.
He did not add the rest. Did not mention that he had gone there exactly for the kind of shallow attention she had just dismissed. Did not mention that under normal circumstances, he would have agreed with her friends more than with her. Or used to, at least. He had spent enough nights half-drunk and reckless and entirely willing to let the dark blur into bodies and bad decisions. Once, that had sounded like the perfect holiday. Not just acceptable, ideal.
The fact that it no longer did still felt too raw to explain.
Valentina looked at him for a second, then smiled, a real smile this time, small but warm.
“So we are the same.”
Lando blinked.
“The same?”
She nodded. “Both escaping a club. Both walking in the sand in the wrong clothes.”
He glanced down at his shoes sinking into the sand and let out a laugh. “I think you’re more wrong-clothes than me.”
“Yes, ok maybe.”
He shook his head, smiling despite himself.
But the words stayed with him.
We are the same.
Under normal circumstances, he might have disagreed instantly. Might even have found it funny.
Because no, he wasn’t the same.
He liked going out. He liked drinking more than he probably should. He liked flirting, the easy kind and the dangerous kind, the kind that led somewhere and the kind that didn’t. He liked the recklessness of holidays, the permission they seemed to give people to become less careful with themselves. For years, that had been one of his favorite versions of freedom.
Or at least he had thought it was.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Now, beside her, the old certainty felt strangely outdated. Like a version of himself he had not yet formally said goodbye to but had somehow already outgrown.
And that unsettled him.
Because if that wasn’t him anymore, then who was he becoming?
He glanced at her sideways.
She was looking down at the sand, concentrating on her footing, the moonlight washing her profile in pale silver. The tear tracks on her cheeks had nearly dried now, though they still caught the light. Without the fear from before, she looked softer. Still tired, still wounded by the night in some quiet way, but calmer. Less alone, maybe.
He found himself absurdly glad about that.
The wind picked up a little, tossing her hair over her shoulder again. She stopped to brush it back, then bent slightly to free the hem of her dress from where it had twisted around her ankle.
Without thinking, Lando slowed and waited.
She noticed.
“You are very patient,” she said, straightening.
“I’m not, actually.”
“No?”
“No. I’m normally quite annoying.”
That earned him another smile. “Ah. Honest too.”
“Sometimes.”
“Dangerous combination.”
He looked at her, and for a second the world seemed to narrow strangely around that look.
It was ridiculous, really. They were just two strangers on a beach. Nothing had happened. Nothing was happening. And yet there was something unexpectedly delicate in the air between them now, something that made him unusually aware of everything: the line of her mouth, the softness of her voice, the way she said things as if she didn’t expect them to matter much and therefore made them matter more.
He cleared his throat and looked ahead again.
“So,” he said, letting the word stretch lightly between them, “you really just sat outside waiting for them?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
She made a small face. “I don’t know. Long enough to regret many things.”
“That’s insane.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean, they are insane to have let you alone.”
She laughed again, more genuinely this time. “You sound offended.”
“I am offended.”
“On my behalf?”
“Yes.”
She looked up at him with open amusement now. “That is kind of you.”
“Well, someone should be.”
She shook her head, but he saw the smile linger.
A few more steps passed in quiet.
Then she said, more softly, “I think maybe I was trying too hard.”
“To do what?”
“To fit with them.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes when you know only one person in a group, you tell yourself maybe the others will become your people too if you are pleasant enough, easy enough, agreeable enough.” She glanced down. “It doesn’t always work.”
Lando felt that in a place he didn’t like having touched.
No, it didn’t.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “No. It doesn’t.”
She looked at him then, probably hearing something in his voice he hadn’t meant to reveal.
But again she didn’t press.
The sea moved beside them, black and endless.
In the distance ahead, the first lights from the quieter villa area were beginning to show, warm yellow squares scattered between palm silhouettes. Civilization again. Safety. An ending to the night.
He should have been relieved.
Instead he felt something unexpected and small tighten in his chest at the thought that eventually she would turn toward her hotel and that would be it. A stranger for an hour, then gone.
Ridiculous.
He had spent years around women without wanting anything beyond a few hours. Now one strange conversation with a crying girl on a beach and suddenly he was unsettled by the idea of reaching the destination too quickly.
He shoved that thought away before it could become embarrassing.
Valentina adjusted her grip on the shoes again and looked out at the water.
“It is funny,” she said.
“What is?”
“I thought tonight would be terrible.”
“And now?”
She considered it.
“Now,” she said slowly, “it is still terrible. But a little less.”
He laughed under his breath. “Glad I could improve your catastrophic evening.”
“You did.” She glanced up at him. “A lot, actually.”
The sincerity in it hit him unexpectedly hard.
He looked away toward the dark line of the sea, suddenly unable to think of a clever answer.
After a moment he said, quieter than before, “You improved mine too.”
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Valentina looked down with a small, almost shy smile, and they kept walking side by side through the moonlit sand, a little less lost than they had been before they found each other.
Lando glanced down again at the heels swinging from Valentina’s hand.
She was definitely struggling.
Every so often the hem of her dress tangled around her ankles and she had to stop to free it. The shoes in her hand did not help. They looked delicate but expensive, the kind of heels made to be admired across a restaurant table, not carried barefoot through half a beach in the middle of the night.
He watched her shift them from one hand to the other again and finally said, “Alright. Give them here.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Your shoes.” He nodded toward them. “Let me hold them.”
She gave him a faintly suspicious look, though there was humor in it now. “You really want to carry my heels?”
“Yes.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“It’s clearly not okay.”
“It is.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Valentina.”
She looked down at the shoes as if reconsidering the entire concept of pride.
Then she sighed, half amused, half defeated, and held them out to him. “Fine.”
He took them from her hand.
They were lighter than he expected. Soft leather, absurdly elegant, probably worth more than any pair of shoes should be. The straps looped over his fingers as they resumed walking.
Valentina immediately gathered both sides of her dress instead, lifting the fabric slightly with both hands.
“Oh,” she said, sounding genuinely startled.
“What?”
“This is much easier.”
Lando laughed under his breath. “Well, I did propose that earlier.”
She glanced sideways at him, smiling now. “These shoes are quite expensive. I did not want a random stranger to run off with them.”
He looked down at the heels hanging from his hand. “Bit hard for me to do a dramatic getaway in the sand.”
“Yes, but still. They are my favorite.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “It’s not my size, so you’re safe.”
She looked at him for a second, then laughed.
And God, he liked that sound.
It was softer than he had expected, lower too, not sharp or practiced or performative. Nothing like the brittle laughter from the club earlier that night, the kind designed to flatter and fill space. Hers felt instinctive, unguarded, like it had slipped out before she had a chance to think about whether it looked good on her.
He found himself smiling before he meant to.
They walked a little farther, the silence between them now warm enough to sit inside.
Then he asked, “So what’s the rest of your plan here? On the island, I mean.”
Valentina made a face almost immediately.
“The plan,” she said, sounding bored just by repeating it, “is apparently to sleep all day and go out all night.”
He turned his head toward her.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
There was such flat disappointment in her voice that he almost laughed again.
She shook her head, lifting the hem of her dress a little higher to avoid a deeper stretch of sand. “They do not want to do anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.” She exhaled, clearly still annoyed now that she was saying it out loud. “Not hiking in the mountains. Not going to the nature spots. Not even skinny dipping in the sea. We litteraly could've stayed in London it'll have been the same”
Lando looked at her.
The list hit him with two separate shocks at once.
The first was that her idea of an ideal holiday sounded, to him, faintly nightmarish.
The second came a beat later, hidden in the way she had said something else just before.
Could’ve stayed in London.
He felt himself pause internally, though his steps kept moving.
She lived in London.
That piece of information landed somewhere strange in him, somewhere too aware, and he hated how interested he suddenly was in it.
But he only addressed the first thing.
“I come here almost every winter,” he admitted, “and I’ve never once gone hiking or skinny dipping.”
Valentina stopped walking for half a second just to stare at him.
The expression on her face was so scandalized that he laughed immediately.
“What?”
She looked at him as if he had confessed to a crime.
“You are joking.”
“I’m not.”
“You come to a place like this and you do not do any of that?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I like doing nothing on holiday.”
She blinked. “Doing nothing?”
“Yeah.”
She looked deeply unimpressed.
Lando grinned despite himself. “Like… sleeping. Napping. Sitting by the pool. Going to restaurants with friends.”
“Boring.”
“That is not boring.”
“That is the definition of boring.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “That’s offensive.”
“It is true.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ruthless, by the way.”
“No, I am right.”
He glanced over at her again, and she was smiling now, the moonlight catching at the curve of it.
“This place has beautiful nature spots,” she said. “It is wasted if you stay only in villas and restaurants.”
He pretended to think about it, though really he was still stuck somewhere between the image of her scandalized expression and the casual way she had said London.
Then he heard himself say, “Well… maybe you can show me one day.”
The words left his mouth lightly, almost as a joke.
But they did not feel light.
For him, it was a lot.
So much more than it should have been.
It was ridiculous, really, how suddenly aware he became of himself after saying it. Like his whole body had braced without permission. A small, stupid pulse of anxiety rose in his chest, absurdly intense for such an ordinary sentence. He had not felt like that in years. Not over asking a girl something simple. Not over making the first move. Normally it was easy, effortless even, or at least he had trained himself into making it look that way.
But this did not feel effortless.
This felt like risk.
Like opening a door and not knowing if she would smile and walk through it or close it gently in his face.
Valentina turned her head toward him.
For one terrible second, he thought she might say no.
Or worse, smile politely and pretend not to understand what he meant.
Instead she smiled.
“Why not?” she said. “You seem to like walking.”
And then she pointed with her chin behind them, back toward the long stretch of beach they had already crossed.
Lando laughed, relief loosening something in his chest so quickly it almost embarrassed him.
“So maybe you are secretly adventurous.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “Normally I prefer to drive, but…”
He stopped there.
The words had nearly gone somewhere dangerous.
Something close to Formula 1.
He did not want that tonight. He did not want to see the shift in someone’s face when recognition arrived, did not want the conversation to tilt and rearrange itself around his name. He wanted this, whatever this was, to stay untouched a little longer.
Valentina looked at him curiously. “But?”
He recovered quickly. “Normally I would have taken a cab.”
She nodded, accepting it. “Ah.”
“But not tonight,” he finished.
“No,” she said softly. “Not tonight.”
They kept walking.
Ahead of them, the beach was beginning to brighten in patches where nearby hotels and villas spilled warm light down toward the shore. The emptiness of the darker stretch behind them had given way to signs of the world again: faint music in the distance, lit balconies, palm trees edged in gold rather than shadow.
After a while, Valentina slowed and looked up.
“There,” she said, and there was relief in her voice this time, real and immediate.
Lando followed her gaze.
Her hotel had come into view, elegant and softly lit, set just back from the beach with terraces glowing in warm yellow light. Not far beyond it, he knew, was the quieter road leading toward the villas, including his own.
He held out her heels.
She smiled when she took them, and for some reason he noticed the way her fingers curled carefully around the straps, as if even now she did not quite trust the night to stop being strange.
They moved off the sand toward the paved path leading up to the hotel.
The ground was steadier there, better lit too, and Valentina paused to put her shoes back on. She wobbled almost immediately on one foot, and before he could think better of it, Lando reached out a hand.
She looked up at him, smiling faintly.
She took his hand to steady herself while she slipped the first heel on, then the second.
And with the better light from the hotel entrance falling over her properly for the first time, he got to look at her.
Really look at her.
Her eyes were not simply brown, as he had first assumed in the dark. There was green in them too, subtle and shifting, visible only when the light caught them at the right angle. Hazel, maybe, but deeper than that, richer. He noticed a tiny mole just beneath her right eye, so small he was surprised he had not seen it before. Her dress, which had seemed white on the beach, was not white at all but cream, soft and expensive-looking in a quieter way than white would have been.
He had thought she was beautiful already.
He realized now he had underestimated her.
The thought came to him plainly and without any of the usual detachment he relied on. She was even prettier than he had first thought, and worse than that, the more he saw of her the less it seemed to have anything to do with just her face.
She straightened once both heels were on and let go of his hand slowly.
“Thank you,” she said again, more softly this time. “Really.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets before he could do anything stupid like keep reaching for her. “It’s alright.”
“No,” she said, and shook her head. “It is more than alright.”
He looked at her and did not know what to do with the sincerity in her face.
Then, to his surprise, she said, “I can give you my number.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
She seemed to notice and smiled, a little shy now in a way she had not been before.
“You know,” she said, “if you still fancy a walk on the island one day.”
Her voice stayed light, but there was just enough uncertainty under it to make his chest tighten pleasantly.
“I’m staying two weeks,” she added. “So there is time.”
He smiled before he could stop himself.
“Me too.”
Something bright flickered across her face at that.
He pulled out his phone and handed it to her again, and this time he noticed that he did it without hesitation at all.
She entered her number, then sent herself a text.
“That way I will have yours too,” she said, glancing up at him. “Once I find a charger.”
She handed the phone back, and for a second they just stood there under the hotel lights, both smiling in that slightly uncertain way people did when something had gone better than expected and neither wanted to ruin it by moving too fast.
There was a little awkwardness then.
Not bad awkwardness.
Just awareness.
Of the hour. Of the end of the walk. Of the fact that they were still strangers, technically, despite how little that word seemed to fit anymore.
Lando slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Well,” he said, nodding slightly toward the darker road beyond the hotel, “I should probably go. Still got like ten minutes on foot.”
Valentina’s smile widened.
“It is good training for our hike.”
He laughed, shaking his head.
And weirdly enough, the idea no longer sounded horrible.
Not even close.
“Yeah,” he said. “Guess it is.”
She stepped back once, the cream fabric of her dress catching the warm light, her heels finally where they belonged, her face no longer tear-streaked but calm.
“Goodnight, Lando.”
He swallowed, though he had no idea why a simple goodnight from her should land so strangely in his chest.
“Goodnight, Valentina.”
Then he turned and started back down the road toward the villa, the night warm around him, the sea still breathing somewhere beyond the palms.
And for the first time in longer than he wanted to admit, he walked away from a woman feeling lighter rather than emptier.
By the time Lando reached the villa, the sand in his shoes had become unbearable.
It had worked its way everywhere: between his toes, under the soles of his feet, into the hem of his trousers, clinging stubbornly to the sides of his shoes no matter how many times he’d tried to kick them clean against the road on the way back. His shirt was creased, his hair had been wrecked by the wind, and there was still enough salt on his skin from the sea air to make him feel sticky under the collar.
And yet, despite all of that, he was smiling.
Actually smiling.
Not the easy public one he had practiced for years. Not the amused, half-detached grin he used in interviews or around strangers or girls in bars when he wanted to seem effortlessly charming.
A real one.
Private. Unintended. Almost stupid.
He was still thinking about the way Valentina had said goodnight.
Still thinking about the small mole under her eye.
Still thinking about her voice when she had said, It is good training for our hike, like the idea of seeing him again had already settled naturally into her mind.
The front of the villa was lit up, warm golden lights spilling across the stone path and out toward the driveway. Music was coming from inside, louder than he expected, and as he pushed open the door, he was met instantly by the smell of alcohol, pool chlorine, and whatever Eddie had apparently decided to microwave.
He stopped in the entryway.
They were all there.
Tom was half-sprawled across one of the sofas in the open-plan living room, drink in hand, shoes kicked off somewhere near the coffee table. Alissa was sitting cross-legged on the rug with a bottle of water, laughing at something on Keegan’s phone. Eddie was at the kitchen counter attempting to make some sort of late-night food disaster. Pietra was curled up in one of the armchairs with her hair tied up messily now, no longer in club mode but still in the same dress. Max was leaning against the island, drink in hand, talking to Keegan, who looked pale, miserable, and deeply regretful.
The second the front door opened, half the room looked up.
Max frowned first. “Where the hell have you been?”
Lando blinked, still halfway between the beach and the villa in his head. “I walked.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Keegan, who looked like death in designer clothes, said flatly, “You what?”
“I walked back.”
Tom pushed himself upright on one elbow. “From the club?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie turned around from the kitchen. “Mate, are you concussed?”
Lando rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “It was only thirty minutes.”
“Only thirty minutes?” Max repeated. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s not that far.”
“On foot,” Alissa said, staring at him, “in those shoes?”
Lando glanced down. Fair point. His shoes were covered in sand, his trousers were dusty at the hems, and there was probably enough evidence on him to make the whole thing look even weirder than it sounded.
“Why are you all back anyway?” he asked, slipping off one shoe and immediately regretting how much sand poured out onto the floor.
“That,” Tom said, pointing dramatically across the room, “is Keegan’s fault.”
Keegan lifted one hand weakly without looking up. “I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying,” Pietra said.
“He threw up in the bathroom of the club,” Max supplied, sounding delighted by it now that the crisis had passed. “Security kicked us out.”
“I think ‘strongly encouraged to leave’ is more accurate,” Alissa corrected.
“I hate all of you,” Keegan muttered.
Lando laughed under his breath and set his other shoe by the door.
The laughter came easier than he expected.
Maybe too easily, because the moment Max really looked at him, his expression changed.
His eyes narrowed slightly, attention sharpening in that deeply annoying way that meant he had noticed something before anyone else had.
“What?” Lando said, already defensive.
Max didn’t answer straight away. He just looked at him.
Then his mouth twitched.
“Oh my God.”
Lando frowned. “What?”
“You have you're weird smile.”
“I’m not.”
“You have,” Max said, now visibly delighted. “You absolutely have.”
“I literally just walked in.”
“Yeah,” Max said, pushing off the counter, “and you look like some deranged bloke who got dumped into a sandbox and came back happier for it.”
Tom snorted.
Pietra leaned forward in her chair, studying him now too. “Actually, yes. You do look weirdly cheerful.”
Lando gave them all a look. “Can I not be in a good mood?”
“Not after leaving a club in an existential crisis, no,” Eddie said.
That got a few laughs.
Lando moved farther into the room, trying and failing to look casual as he reached for a bottle of water on the counter.
“It was just a walk,” he said.
Max made a face like he didn’t believe a word of it. “And?”
“And what?”
“And what happened on the walk?”
“Nothing.”
“Lando.”
He unscrewed the cap on the bottle and took a sip, buying time he didn’t need because it was already obvious this was going nowhere.
Max folded his arms. “You’re covered in sand, you disappeared for ages, and now you’re standing in our kitchen smiling. Something happened.”
Tom sat up fully now, interested. “Wait, actually, yeah.”
Lando exhaled through his nose.
He could have lied.
But Valentina’s laugh was still in his head, and the memory of her entering her number into his phone was sitting warm and alive somewhere under his ribs, and apparently that made him worse at pretending than usual.
He gave up.
“Fine,” he said. “I saw a girl.”
The room reacted immediately.
Tom slapped the sofa cushion. “There we go.”
Eddie turned fully around. “Knew it.”
Max pointed at him. “I knew it.”
Lando frowned. “Shut up. She was lost.”
That earned him a pause.
“A girl was lost?” Pietra asked.
He nodded. “Her phone died. She’d lost her friends. She was walking in the wrong direction.”
“And then what?” Max asked.
“I let her use my phone. Her friends didn’t answer. She was staying near here, so…” He lifted one shoulder. “I walked with her.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. Then an absolutely unbearable grin spread across his face.
“Oh,” he said. “That’s why you’re covered in sand.”
Lando looked at him blankly. “What?”
Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter. “Enjoy her company a little too much, did you? End up hooking up on the beach?”
The thought hit Lando so wrong, so immediately wrong, that the reaction left his mouth before he could soften it.
“What? No. Of course not.”
The room went a little quieter.
Not silent. Just surprised.
Because they all heard it, the offense in his voice.
Not embarrassment, not evasiveness, actual offense.
He felt it too late.
And worse, he understood exactly why it had come out like that.
Thinking about Valentina that way, reducing the whole night to that, to some cheap, obvious ending in the sand, felt wrong. Very wrong. It made something in his chest recoil.
They had only walked.
That was all.
And somehow that had felt more intimate than half the people he had slept with.
He set the bottle down harder than he meant to.
“We just walked,” he said, more firmly now. “That’s it.”
Max’s expression shifted again, curiosity turning sharper, quieter. “Are you seeing her again?”
Lando hesitated only a second.
“I got her number.”
That got everyone’s attention all over again.
“Oh?” Alissa said.
He tried to sound casual and failed. “So, yeah. Probably.”
“How long is she here?” Tom asked.
“Two weeks.”
Pietra frowned slightly, confusion flickering over her face before she spoke. “You mean you actually plan on seeing her for that long?”
Lando looked at her.
She went on, unaware at first of how the question landed.
“I just mean…” she said, shrugging lightly, “normally you’d get tired after one night and switch to someone else.”
The silence that followed was immediate.
Lando felt the anger before he fully understood it.
Hot. Instant. Sharp enough that even he was caught off guard by it.
Maybe it was the words themselves. Maybe it was how easily they had come to her, how naturally they all accepted that version of him. Maybe it was because Valentina had spent half the walk talking about people who wanted only drunk nights and easy flirting and she hates it, and now here he was back in a room full of friends who apparently thought exactly the same thing of him.
Or maybe it was because some part of him hated how true it had once been.
Whatever the reason, the anger arrived whole.
“Maybe,” he said, too quickly, too sharply, “I’m not only thinking about sex all the time, God.”
Everyone stared at him.
His voice was louder now, and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’m not that superficial.”
Silence fell fully then.
Tom sat frozen on the sofa. Eddie’s grin vanished. Alissa blinked, startled. Keegan, from his miserable little spot at the counter, looked up as if even his nausea had been interrupted by that tone.
Pietra’s expression changed first.
Not defensive. Just surprised and immediately sorry.
“I didn’t mean....” she started gently. “I’m sorry. I just…”
She glanced around as though looking for support, then back at him.
“It’s not like you ever said anything different before.”
Lando opened his mouth.
She hesitated, then added carefully, “You literally wanted to go out tonight because and I quote,” she made air quotes, quoting him as exactly as she could. “‘Girls are easier to slept with when they’re on holiday.’ So…”
It hit dead center.
Because he had said that.
Maybe not in those exact words. Or maybe exactly in those words. He honestly couldn’t remember now, only that it sounded enough like him to be true. And hearing it repeated back to him made something deep in him twist with humiliation.
He got offended anyway.
“I never said that.”
Max made a face.
Tom looked at the ceiling.
Eddie coughed into his fist in a way that looked suspiciously like hiding a laugh.
Lando glared at all of them. “I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did,” Max said.
“Maybe not like that.”
“That is almost word for word,” Alissa said.
He felt heat climb up the back of his neck.
The worst part was not that they were wrong.
The worst part was that hearing it out loud suddenly made him sound pathetic.
As if all he ever looked for was that sort of company: easy, temporary, flattering. As if that was all he was good for too. Not the kind of man who got something real. Not the kind someone like Valentina would ever look at twice if she knew him properly. Just someone built for short nights and shorter attention spans.
And under that humiliation was something even worse, something softer and far more dangerous.
Because for the first time in longer than he wanted to admit, he found himself wanting what he had always mocked in private.
Something like what Max and Pietra had.
Not just a girl and a good night and a number he never used.
A proper meet-cute, then a first date, a first kiss that mattered because it was attached to the rest of a person.
Being official.
Meeting parents.
Knowing someone’s coffee order and what they looked like when they were angry and what kind of film they put on when they were sad.
The thought should have been absurd.
Instead all he could think about, for no sane reason at all, was Valentina standing under the hotel lights with her cream dress and green-brown eyes, and a stupid thought crossed his mind so suddenly it nearly made him angry all over again:
What kind of ice cream would she order on a first date?
He stared at the kitchen counter.
Pistachio, maybe.
No, something less obvious.
Hazelnut?
Or lemon, because she seemed like the kind of person who would insist fruit flavors were underrated.
What the hell was wrong with him?
“Lan,” Max said more quietly now.
Lando didn’t look up.
The whole room had shifted. The party atmosphere from before had drained out, replaced by the awkward, careful stillness of people realizing they had stepped on something raw.
Pietra spoke first.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, softer this time. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
Lando finally exhaled.
The anger had nowhere to go now that it had burned through him. Underneath it was just embarrassment. Confusion. A sick sort of self-awareness.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“No,” he muttered. “It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t seem fine,” Max said.
Lando looked at him then, and something in Max’s expression, too perceptive, too concerned, too close to seeing more than Lando wanted anyone to see, made him want out of the room immediately.
“I’m just tired,” he said.
Tom, to his credit, didn’t make a joke.
Eddie looked down.
Alissa reached for her water bottle and twisted the cap on and off without saying anything.
“I’m going to bed,” Lando added.
No one stopped him this time.
He grabbed his shoes from near the door, then thought better of carrying them and left them there instead. Sand could wait until morning. So could the weird conversation. So could whatever the hell was happening inside his own head.
He went upstairs two steps at a time.
His room was dark except for the low lamp he switched on beside the bed. Instantly, the space felt quieter than the rest of the house by several worlds. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a second, letting the silence press in.
Then he looked at his phone.
There was one new message.
His heart kicked once, stupidly.
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed before opening it.
Valentina.
A number he had not saved yet, but didn’t need to guess.
The message was simple.
I arrived in my room. Thank you again for tonight. It was more fun than I expected :)
He stared at it.
Then, slowly, something in him softened.
All the irritation from downstairs, all the embarrassment, all the restlessness that had followed him out of the club and across the beach and into the villa, none of it disappeared, exactly.
But it settled.
Shifted.
Because he agreed with her.
Tonight had been more fun than he had expected too.
Infinitely more.
He looked down at the screen again, reread the message once, then smiled to himself in the quiet of the room.
And for the first time in a very long while, the thought of tomorrow felt like something worth staying awake for.
Author note : please don't forget to share and comment, I'm responding to all comments and dm, so please share your thoughts on this first chapter :)
Let me known if you want to be add to the taglist !
summary: a quiet girl, a chaotic F1 driver and a relationship the internet keeps getting wrong. they never hid, people just never looked close enough.
or
when everyone thinks lando norris is gay but he's been with y/n for the past three years.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
view all comments
@/yourbff: why didn't u invite me :(
@/yourbff: nvm i wouldn't wanna be a third wheel
@/user59: WDYM THIRD WHEEL
@/user87: have fun!!
@/user72: are u filming a vlog???
@/user01: keep us updated!!
@/user63: beautiful sunset!!!
lando
liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri81, keeganpalmer and others
lando summer break vibes
view all comments
@/maxfewtrell: whose hand is that mate
@/user72: his
@/maxfewtrell: how would he take the pic while doing the thingy
@/keeganpalmer: r u dumb. he took the photo when the thingy was done. he had free hands.
@/maxfewtrell: oh right.
@/maxfewtrell: but how is his left hand bigger than ur right hand
@/lando: shut up.
@/danielricciardo: 👀
@/oscarpiastri: who owns these uggs?
@/mclaren: enjoy the break 🧡
@/user63: THAT’S A WOMAN
@/user6: it's a gay man
@/user08: THEY MEANT THE HAND 💀
@/user63: how would u know they meant the hand and not lando's twink ass
@/user04: HELPPPP
@/user70: SOFT LAUNCH ALERT
@/user86: why hide ur boyfriend 😭
@/user03: wait a minute............
@/user05: @/yourusername is pretending to be ur gf AGAIN
f1tea
liked by maxfewtrell, keeganpalmer and others
f1tea Lando is spending his summer break in Sicily, and while his last post shows us calm vibes, he has been spotted partying in Sicily. This video went viral due to his proximity with another man. It's not the first time that he has been spotted in such intimate moments. What do you guys think?
view all comments
@/user73: he doesn't even try to hide it
@/user92: yet y/n wants us to think they're together
@/user02: who even is she
@/user63: she posts some niche artsy tiktoks
@/user86: oh that's not it........
@/user73: stfu
@/user52: he's always grinding with blondes 😭
@/user62: not max and keegan liking this post HELPPPPPPPP
yourusername
liked by lando, yourbff, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, user72, and others
yourusername summer break vlog is out!!!
view all comments
@/user72: why would she say summer break just like lando wth
@/user05: like why can't she just say summer vlog or smth
@/user50: 🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️
@/user93: omg i was so anxious for this!!!!
@/user05: lando's obviously her gay bsf
@/user85: hope u had a great time!!!
@/yourbff: flash news: y/n is seen with a different total aesthetic – is it the summer effect?
@/pietra.pilao: or summer lover boy effect 👀
@/user02: i don't understand how y'all be hating saying she's a liar when 1) she never said she was with lando, y'all assumed that. they could be friends. 2) he likes her posts, so strangers? they're not. 3) even his friends like her posts, so they must know and like her!!!!!!!!
liked by yourusername
@/user47: not y/n liking this comment????
@/user69: if i were her i would've crash out alr
@/user09: she's stronger than me fr
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
ᵎ!ᵎ author notes: i hope u guys enjoyed!! i'll TRY to update 2/2 days. please reblog/comment, opinions and support mean a lot! 💗
summary: lando norris is sick of the constant matchmaking attempts from team principals, sponsors, and fellow drivers. After yet another dinner where an older executive tries to set him up with his “brilliant and beautiful” niece, he snaps. In a moment of desperation, he turns to y/n, a friend-of-a-friend who’s equally unimpressed by the F1 circus. She’s witty, down to earth and most importantly, doesn’t care about his fame.
warnings: none
part 2
Lando sighed as he sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. Another sponsor dinner. Another room full of dusty old farts in suits, each one more eager to squeeze him into their corporate mould than the last.
They wanted to integrate every aspect of his life, his social media, his dating life, even his hobbies all under the guise of “brand synergy.”
Fine. Fine. He could do this. He could smile, nod, and pretend he cared about their latest innovative campaign featuring some overpriced watch or cologne. Because the alternative? Zak’s wrath tomorrow. And no one wanted to deal with Zak when he was in a mood.
With a groan, he dragged himself out of the car and trudged toward the venue, his polished shoes clicking against the pavement like a countdown to his own slow death.
The moment he stepped into the room, the scent of expensive cologne and forced enthusiasm hit him like a wall. Executives in stiff suits mingled with brand sponsors who looked at him like he was a living billboard they’d just won the rights to.
One of them, some guy from a luxury watch company immediately latched onto him, already mid-sentence about “aligning his personal brand with their legacy.” Lando pasted on his most charming smile, but inside, he was screaming.
A hand clapped his shoulder firm, proprietary, the kind of grip that said, “This one’s mine,” He turned to find Richard Vale, a silver-haired sponsor from some luxury watch brand, beaming at him like a proud uncle.
“Lando, my boy!” Richard boomed, “You remember my niece, right? Clara? She’s here tonight!” Lando’s stomach dropped. Oh no.
Before he could protest, a woman stepped forward tall, polished, with a smile that had been rehearsed in front of a mirror. Clara Vale. She extended a manicured hand, “Lando, it’s so lovely to see you again.”
Lando shook her hand, his grip just a little too tight, “Likewise.”
Clara’s eyes flickered with something like calculation, “I was just telling Uncle Richard how much I love following F1. Such dedicated fans, aren’t we?”
Lando’s smile felt like it was cracking, “Oh, you’re a fan, are you?” He could already see the headlines: ‘Lando Norris and Clara Vale: A Match Made in Sponsor Heaven.’
Richard clapped his hands together, "Why don’t the two of you sit together for dinner? I’ve put you at the same table!”
Lando’s teeth ground together. Of course you did.
The dinner was a nightmare. Clara spent the first twenty minutes grilling him about his long-term plans. Not his career. Not his goals. His personal life.
“Do you see yourself settling down soon?” she asked, swirling her wine like it was a magic 8-ball. Lando nearly choked, “Uh. I—”
“Because my uncle says you’re very focused on your career right now,” she continued, as if this were a normal conversation,“But everyone needs balance, don’t they?”
Lando’s fork hovered over his plate. Balance? He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw his napkin down and walk out. But that would mean Zak’s wrath, and Lando wasn’t in the mood for another lecture about “professionalism.”
Instead, he forced a laugh,“Yeah. Balance. Totally.”
Clara leaned in, “You know, my friend Sophia is also into motorsport. She’s a huge fan.” Lando’s eye twitched. “She’s adorable,” Clara pressed, “And she’s dying to meet you.” Lando’s grip on his fork whitened his knuckles.
By the time he escaped the restaurant, Lando was running on empty.
He slid into his car, slamming the door behind him. The silence was a blessing. For the first time all night, he could breathe.
But the relief was short-lived. His phone buzzed another text from Richard Vale. “Great to see you two getting along! Sophia would love to meet you at the next event, let’s set something up!”
Lando hurled his phone into the passenger seat like it had personally offended him.
This was it. He was sick of it. Sick of being a pawn. Sick of being paraded around like a prize stallion at a county fair. He started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, the city lights blurring past him as he drove.
By the time he got home, Lando was a shell of himself.
He kicked off his shoes, tossed his jacket onto the couch, and collapsed onto his bed. The soft sheets felt like heaven against his tense neck and back muscles. He stared at the ceiling, his mind racing, “What the hell am I doing?”
Then, in a moment of desperation, he sat up. Max. Max would understand and hopefully help. He dialled his best friend’s number, pressing the phone to his ear. Max picked up on the first ring, “Dude! How was the dinner?”
Lando rubbed his face, “I need your help.” was silent for a beat. Then, cautiously, “What happened?” Lando exhaled, long and shaky, “I can’t do this anymore, Max. I can’t deal with constant interrogations at every dinner, the nagging about my personal life."
Another pause. Then, Max’s voice softened, “Okay. Okay. What do you need?”
Lando swallowed hard, “This may sound crazy but I need someone who doesn’t care about my fame, who’ll keep me grounded, who’ll tell me when I’m being an idiot.”
Max chuckled, “Sounds like you need a therapist.”
“No,” Lando’s voice was firm, “I need a cover.” Max went quiet, then slowly, “How about y/n?”
“The y/n?” Lando questioned, “The one who hates F1 and is absolutely nuts?” Max whistled, “The one and only.” Lando was desperate and he honestly could not think of anyone else who might have given him a chance without selling out to the press for their 5 minutes of fame.
Lando knew you all the way back from his karting days in Europe. Max, Lando, and a few others had raced together in junior series, and your brother Jake, had been one of their mechanics. A quiet, intense guy who never spoke much but fixed engines like magic.
You had been around the paddock back then helping Jake with designs, sketching custom decals for their karts, always with a sharp eye and sharper tongue. You’d been the one to redesign their team livery one year, turning their clunky sponsor-heavy look into something sleek and modern. Lando had hated how much better it was than his own.
You’d called him out more times than he could count.
“Your social media posts look like a sponsor’s brochure, not a person’s feed,” you told him once, after he’d posted a glossy ad for his sunglasses collection, “If you’re going to post, at least make it yours.”
Lando had bristled. But deep down? He’d known you was right.
You kept in touch after Jake moved on to bigger teams, Max and you had stayed friends, bonding over their shared disdain for F1’s superficial side. Lando had seen her a few times over the years, always at random events, always unimpressed by all the glitz and glamour. And now? Now he needed that unimpressed, brutally honest, design-major friend more than ever.
Max was silent for a long moment then, cautiously, “You realize she’s not just some random person, right? She’s—”
“I know who she is,” Lando cut in, “And she already knows me. Remember karting? Remember how she used to roast my social media?”
Max let out a low laugh, “Damn. You’re really scraping the barrel now.”
Lando’s jaw tightened, “I don’t care. I need someone who’ll tell me the truth. The only one who’ll look at me and see Lando, not Lando Norris, F1 Driver."
Max sighed, “Alright. I’ll text you her number. But if she roasts you into next week, do not say I didn’t warn you.” Lando almost laughed. Almost, “I can handle it.”
(He hoped.)
The next day Lando stared at his phone screen, your contact info glowing back at him. His thumb hovered over the screen before he finally typed out a message.
L: Hey. It’s Lando. Max gave me your number. I need a favour. A big one.
L: Are you free for a drink? Somewhere neutral. Somewhere you won’t have to pretend to like me.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself. Then he threw his phone onto the bed and paced the length of his apartment.
His phone buzzed, Lando lunged for it, heart in his throat.
Y/n: Wow. You actually went there. Fine. But only because I want to see if you’ve gotten any worse at being insufferable since the last time I saw you.
Y/n: Meet me at Fog and Fern in an hour and if you’re late I’m leaving.
Reading your replies, Lando grinned genuinely for the first time in days.
Lando arrived fashionably late (because of course he did), scanning the room for you, then he saw you, dressed in casual clothes and hair tied back, a sketchbook open in front of you. You were doodling in the margins and your brow furrowed in concentration, completely unaware of the room’s attention.
He hesitated but made his way over to your table, as he approached he cleared his throat, “Hey.” You flipped a page in your sketchbook, still not glancing at him, “You’re late.”
“Five minutes,” Lando protested.
“In my world, that’s eternity,” you said dryly, “Sit down, Norris and tell me what you need me for enough to actually contact me.”
“Sooo?” you said, finally looking up.
Lando blinked, “Please don’t think I’m crazy but I need you to be my fake girlfriend,” he quickly said.
Your eyes were sharp, assessing, and completely unimpressed, “You want me to be your fake girlfriend.” “Uh. Yeah.” He said feeling on edge.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one who won’t suck up to me,” he admitted, “Because you’ve seen me at my worst remember our karting days? And you’re one the only person I know that won’t kiss up to me for their 5 minutes of fame.”
You leaned back, crossing your arms, “And what do I get out of this?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, “What do you want?”
“A design project,” you said instantly, “Your racing suit is hideous. I could redesign it into something sleek and modern.”
Lando grinned, “Deal.”
You smirked, “Don’t look so happy. This is a business arrangement.”
“Sure,” Lando said, leaning forward, “So, partner let’s get to work.”
Fast forward to the week of the Monaco Grand Prix and you are almost at Lando’s apartment, over the past few weeks you and Lando had kept in contact though texts here and there and came up with the kick off your plan at the grand prix with the most eyes everywhere.
You arrived at his door and shoot him a text that you’re outside, in less than a minute the door opens and Lando stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, he looked taller than you remembered.
His hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it all day, and his T-shirt clung to him in a way that made you realize she’d never seen him off-duty before. For a second, neither of you spoke.
Then Lando pushed off the doorframe, his grin widening, “Took you long enough.”
You stepped inside, your bag slung over your shoulder, “Traffic.”
“Bullshit,” he said, shutting the door behind you, “You just like making me wait.”
You smirked, “Maybe.”
The apartment was even better in person warm, lived-in, and full of character. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Mediterranean Sea, the water shimmering under the afternoon sun. It felt like a home, not a showroom.
You dropped your bag by the door, “This place is actually… nice.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, “High praise.”
You walked over to the window, your fingers brushing against the sill as you took in the view, “You’re not what I expected, Norris.”
“Good or bad?” he asked, stepping beside you.
“Still deciding,” you admitted.
He laughed, and the sound filled the room in a way that made her chest tighten.
After getting set up in his guest room and changing into some comfy clothes you wondered into the kitchen where Lando was staring blankly at a menu, phone in hand.
Lando glanced up, relieved, “I was thinking Italian. Or Thai. Or… I don’t know, something that doesn’t require a Michelin-starred chef.”
You laughed, “Smart man.”
They settled on Thai food, green curry, pad Thai, and spring rolls and Lando ordered with the enthusiasm of someone who’d never actually used a food delivery app before. ”Extra chili sauce,” he added, “I like it spicy.”
You raised an eyebrow, “You say that now…”
The food arrived steaming and fragrant, and they spread it out on the coffee table in front of the couch. Lando had already cracked open a bottle of wine, and you had claimed the spot by the window, where the view of the city at night was stunning.
You took a bite of pad thai and nodded, “Not terrible.”
You wiped your hands on a napkin and leaned back against the couch, “Alright. Let’s talk about this.”
Lando swallowed, “The fake relationship?”
“Yeah.” You swirled your wine, “We need to get this right. No room for mistakes.”
“Agreed.”
You pointed at him with your chopsticks, “First rule, we keep it believable, no obvious tells.”
“No tells like you rolling your eyes every time someone mentions F1.” Lando mimed the motion.
“Got it,” you said, “No eye-rolling. What else?”
“Second rule, we have to sell it. A lot of hand-holding, arm around the waist, the occasional ‘accidental’ kiss if the moment calls for it.”
You smirked, “Accidental kiss?”
“Yeah,” Lando said, trying to sound casual, “Like, if someone’s taking a photo, we lean in. Something like that.”
You raised an eyebrow, “And if I want it to be less accidental?”
Lando’s brows shot up, “What?”
“I’m just saying,” you said, shrugging, “If we’re doing this, we might as well commit, because I don’t do half-assed performances.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable in the best way. Lando cleared his throat, " Third rule, we don’t overdo it. No PDA in private. If we’re alone, we can be ourselves.”
Lando laughed, “Noted.”
Your tone turned serious, “Fourth rule, no falling for each other. This is a business deal, nothing more.”
Lando’s grin faltered, “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you said firmly, “We keep emotions out of it. No messy feelings, no complications.”
Lando clinked his glass against yours, “Deal.”
He held your gaze, and for the first time, he really looked at you not as a shield, not as a fake girlfriend, but as Y/N.
Summary: A drunken game turns into something else.
Warnings: cursing, drinking, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, fighting, mentions of Magui, daddy issues.
Pairing: Toto Wolff daughter!Reader
Part two
It all started thanks to George. He invited some friends to dinner. Wanting to have a nice time with everybody.
He also gave the idea of drinking to celebrate a promotion Carmen got at her job. It was all going well.
Your night was ruined the moment Lando and Margarida arrived. It made some heads turn to where you were seated.
George promised you that he didn't invite Lando. What he also didn't do was make sure Carmen also didn't invite him.
"Hi everyone." Lando says, smiling at everyone. "Sorry, mate. We got busy. Hi Carmen."
"Hi, you two." She says, getting up to greet the couple. "Why don't you take a seat over here." She points to the other side of the table.
You feel Alexandra grab your hand from under the table. You look at her with a smile, trying to go back to the conversation.
"Max is seated there with Kel-." Franco says, earning a hit in the shoulder from Pierre. "I mean, seat wherever. They went to check on the baby anyway."
Magui turns her head, searching somewhere else to sit. She noticed the empty seats of Alex and Liam.
"We'll sit over here, Carmen." Magui says, pulling Lando towards the seats. "Hi, guys."
You feel a shiver run down your spine. From all the seats they could sit on. They chose the ones that are right in front of you.
Charles, Carlos, and Rebecca returned the hi. You stayed quiet, making Alex squish your hand, not letting you do it.
"I think we need another round of drinks." George says. "Norris, you both want a drink?"
"Fine by me." He smiles. "Do you want a drink, love?"
You grab your purse and get up, earning some looks from around the table. The one you can't ignore is the one from Lando.
That smirk that he has, like he knows he's winning at the < i can annoy you > game.
"Next round on me." You say, smiling at everyone. You feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Alexandra, come with me to the restroom." You whisper to her.
She nodded, getting up and grabbing your hand to walk to the restroom. You walk normally, trying to act like nothing is happening.
When you can't see any of them, you speed your steps to the bathroom. You open the door and lock yourself inside one of the bathrooms.
"Y/n, get out." Alexandra says knocking. "If you are crying, I'm going to get mad."
"I'm just so mad." You open the door, your glossy eyes make Alex frown disappear. "He's enjoy this."
"Don't give him the satisfaction." Alex hugs you. "Let's apply some gloss and get out there. You, me, and Rebecca are going to do some shots."
You giggle. "Alexandra, last time we did shots, you told Charles you were getting him pregnant."
"Oh, let's go, let's go." She separates, opening her purse to take her gloss out. "C'mon, we need to get back." She says, ignoring your comment, thing that makes you laugh.
He helps you apply some gloss while you take an insta story to keep. You walk back to the table where everybody has their drinks.
You lightly tap the arm of one waiter. "Hi, can I have a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses, please?"
Charles and Carlos look at each other with a grin. They know the party is about to get better just by the look on your face.
Lando was talking with Oscar and Esteban, they were seated next to each other. Flavia and Lily were talking too, leaving Magui looking uncomfortable while looking at her phone.
"Hey, Magui." You call her softly. "Do you drink?"
The table seems to pause for a moment. Your side of the table look at Magui waiting for an answer while her side of the table looks at you like you are crazy.
"I-" she was about to answer, but Lando's voice interrupted her.
"We have an early flight tomorrow." He says, faking a smile to you.
"Oh, sorry." You say to him. "I don't recall asking you, I'm asking her." You smile. "Want a shot?"
Magui looks over at Lando. "It's just a shot, baby." She places her hand on his cheek. "But only one."
You nod, serving the shot for her. You ask Lily and Flavia who agree to have one. You pass the shots with some lemon and salt, saving the last one for Magui.
You look at Lando before passing it to her. He can't help but roll his eyes, looking away.
You all clinked the shot glasses, drinking them all. You all make a face while saying how gross it was.
"Can I have one?" Kimi asks, hand extended with an empty glass behind Rebecca's back. "Please."
"Aren't you like fifteen?" You joke with him. "Okay, but don't tell Toto. Ollie, Isack, want one?" You ask the rookies.
They look at each other, nodding to each other and then saying yes to you. You order a new bottle to make sure you had enough.
"Are we giving shots?" Pierre asks.
"I want one!" Kika smiles, winking at you.
"Me too." Franco follows.
Short after almost everybody was asking for a shot, making you order another bottle. You went around handing shot glasses and then serving the tequila.
"Magui, another one?" You ask her, purposely skipping Lando.
She nods, grabbing her shot and letting you serve more alcohol.
"Aren't you going to offer one shot to me?" Lando asks, you can see the annoyed look on his face.
"Oh, sorry." You serve Lily's shot. "Thought you had an early flight."
The dry laugh from him makes you smile even more. You were getting him annoyed and he was mad about it.
He likes to be the one in charge, not liking to be the one being played. He stands up, passing behind you and grabbing a shot.
"Well, good thing is private."
You smile, acting as if you are going to serve him. "Oops, looks like the bottle is empty. Silly me!"
You walk back to your seat, earning a high five from Alexandra. She was proud of you for taking the situation in your favor.
He shakes his head, acting disappointed, like if that was going to make you feel bad or something.
"Why don't we play never have I ever?" Pierre asks, smirking at everyone. "Let's make this interesting."
Some make a sound of disappointment, and others agree to the game. Franco takes the opportunity to help Pierre.
"Never have I ever been ghosted."
"Wait, if I have I drink or what?" Ollie asks.
"If you have, drink, if you haven't, just skip." Carlos explains.
After the first few rounds, you ask the waiters to leave more bottles around the table for them to be served every time someone had to refill their shots.
"Never have I ever fucked in the drivers room." Isack says.
"Oh kid, you never." George jokes.
Isack then takes the shot, making everybody around except for George clap in excitement. George nods while smiling, drinking the shot too.
"Never have I ever make a pass on girl that works for the team." Flavia asks.
"Wait, they are trying to expose us." Pierre laughs. Kika hits him in the arm, making him laugh even harder. "I mean, I've never."
"I have." Franco says, drinking confidently.
You can feel the happiness from the group, laughs can be heard, claps from some, some cursing words in different languages.
"Never have I ever been hated for being the first in the championship." You say, giving Oscar a smile.
Lily giggles, looking at him and waiting for him to drink. They all yelled at Oscar to drink, and he was too shy from the attention.
"Fine, you fuckers." He laughs before taking the shot down. "Now, never have I ever been jealous of the first place of this years championship." He jokes.
Pierre and Franco get up to clink their glasses with him. Carlos, Charles and Esteban laughed and drink just because. The rookies shrug and drink.
You then notice how Lando is not drinking the shot. You don't know if it's the alcohol in your system, but you open your mouth.
"Lando, your shot is full." You point, making the other drivers ask Lando to drink.
"Can't drink if I have never."
Some scuffs can be heard, some other joke about him lying, some wags laughing at the jokes.
"It's not funny if we are going to start lying." You say in a singing voice, laughing after saying that. "Here, I'll fix it for you. Never have I ever lied in this game."
The smile he has in his face is now replaced by an angry expression. He grabs the shot and finishes it.
For a moment, everybody around you pauses to look at what is happening. You can't blame Magui for her confused smile.
"Venga chavales, we all lied at some point, so drink." Carlos says, making everybody go back to the game like nothing happened.
"Never have I ever been rejected by the college of my dreams." Lando says, looking directly into your eyes.
Your smile disappears, he was playing dirty just to bother you. You told him that in a very vulnerable moment.
You told him after he found you crying about it in the Mercedes Garage. When he asked you and insisted that you could trust him. You confessed that you got rejected from college because of some controversy of your dad.
"I mean, I don't even know how I finish high school, but I'm going to drink." Franco says, grabbing the shot and drinking.
Pierre follows his lead, then charles who catch onto the situation, Carlos also drinks even when that didn't happened.
"Never have I-" Kimi starts but gets interrupted by you.
"Never have I ever lied that I was in bed sick, but in reality, I was out with someone, drinking and partying behind someone's back." You now attack, wanting to play dirty like him.
Again, the table is quiet. This time, it was hard for the ones who knew the situation. They wanted to fix it to go back to the game, but also didn't know how to.
It was a battle between Lando and you.
"If I did it behind my mom's back, does it count?" Ollie asks.
Around the table, they all were thankful that they could laugh the situation.
"Never have I ever had a situationship and catch feelings even when I knew it was not serious." Lando asks.
It was a dig on the chest, Alexandra gasped at the question. Thankfully, the music was loud enough to cover her gasp.
Some drink and some other wait for the next.
"Okay, my turn." Franco says. "Never have I ever had sex with two people the same day."
"Franco, macho." Carlos laughs.
"What?" Franco giggles. "It doesn't have to be recent. Maybe you did it ten years ago. That's like valid."
After that, some drink around the table. You wait to see if Lando was going to pick up the shot and drink it.
He looks at you straight in the eyes, chugging the liquor with a proud smile. You feel your stomach burn with anger.
"Never have I ever faked an orgasm." You say, picking the shot and drinking it.
The girls laugh, some saying that following Franco's logic, they were going to drink.
You smirk when Magui picks the shot and drinks. You obviously don't know if it's because of Lando or someone in her past.
You don't really care, you look at Lando and mouthed a < wow > with a smirk that can be seen even from afar.
"Never have I ever been someone's distraction and thought it was love."
"Merde, this game is harder than I thought." Isack says.
"Never have I ever been cheated on by my first girlfriend and cried about it to Mommy." You return the stab, airing the secrets he told you.
"This is getting out of hand." Lewis says, shaking his head.
"Never have I ever cried because my dad doesn't love me enough." Lando says, face kinda red.
This time, no comment is enough to get back to the mood. Some gasps can be heard, some mouths are open, and some heads are being lowered in order to hide the expression.
"Okay, enough." Lewis gets up.
You shake your head, hand around the shot. "Cheers." You say, elevating the glass and drinking.
Alexandra grabs your shot, taking it away from you. Rebecca's hands find your shoulders.
"Lando, what the hell?" Magui whispers. "What is going on?" She whispers to Lily, who can only give her a shrug.
You keep your eyes on him. That stupid smile of satisfaction that his face has is making your hand itch with the desire of slapping it away.
"I think we need the check." Carmen says, trying to change the topic to something else.
"No, please let's continue." You say, looking around. "We were having so much fun."
"That's enough, Y/n." Lewis says, putting his jacket on. "Let's go."
"Oh, I'm not leaving. In fact, never have I ever cried because my team always chooses my teammate and not me, even when I've been there since the beginning, all because they think I'm not enough."
"Oh, mon Dieu." Charles says. "Okay, that's definitely enough." He says, grabbing the bottle.
"No," you slap his hand away. "It's not over until Norris drinks."
Lando scoffs, grabbing the glass. "Fine. If this is what you want." He says, drinking the tequila.
"I'm done." You whisper to Alexandra.
You feel the bottle being ripped off of your hand. A very angry Lando serves the alcohol quickly to his empty shot glass.
"Never have I ever been changed for someone better, someone prettier, someone more talented and all that for not being enough just like daddy says."
He slams the shot glass in front of you. The liquor spills out by the force of it.
You don't think twice and get up, grabbing the glass of water that's in front of Alexandra. You throw the water right at his face.
Everybody gets up. Oscar grabs Lando by the shoulders, pulling him back into the chair. He wasn't doing anything but was being restrained.
Carlos and Charles both get up, followed by Rebecca and Alexandra. The others sat back and were very shocked at the events.
It all was a slow-motion movie from your point of view. Sadly, it wasn't an Academy Award deserving one. It was a very bad one.
Lewis walks over to where you are, moving your chair away. Alexandra grabs her purse and yours, telling you to follow Lewis.
Lewis grabs your arm, helping you move. You are quiet. You are not sure if it's because of what you just did or if it's because you have nothing to say.
You can hear Carlos, Oscar and George yell at Lando for what he is saying. You also take one last look at Margarida, her confused face, her blouse that has water stains from you throwing the drink at Lando.
Lily is calming her down, asking her to come with Flavia and with her. She looks at you before you leave the private area where you were.
You walk with his help to the car, the alcohol in your system is now evident. You can't walk properly and definitely can't control your words.
"Here, take my jacket." Lewis says, taking the piece of clothes and helps you to get your arms inside the jacket. "Let's go."
"Lewis." You turn to him and cry on his shoulder. "I fucked up." You sob. "You told me not to get close to him, and I thought you were wrong."
Lewis met you when you were ten. You were always there during races, he helped you many times with your homework and even gave you advice when you needed it.
When you came to him all excited with the news of Lando asking you on a date, he knew it meant danger.
He sat you down and advised you not to engage in any romantic activity, especially not with Lando Norris.
You told him it was fine, that what people say about Lando was just their opinion, that you know him and he was a good guy.
Lewis couldn't help you. Even when he involved George, Carlos, and Charles, you were still defending that what you had with Lando was not like they say.
"It's okay," he hugs you. "I'm here, it's okay."
"He told me he loved me." You whisper. "I believed him, Lewis."
Lewis can't find the words to fix your feelings even for a second. He just hugs you and lets you cry.
"Why don't you stay in my room? We can order a dark coffee and then go to sleep." He says after a while.
You nod, separating from the hug. "Thank you."
He nods, cleaning your tears. He opens the car door for you. Helping you with the seat belt and asking if you were comfortable.
You hide your head in your hands, sobbing from how embarrassing the whole thing was. Lewis patted your head, not sure how to deal with this.
You lift your head, cleaning your tears. You look up from your seat. You notice how Lando and Magui are exiting the restaurant.
You see how he walks behind her, grabbing her arm, one hand on her lower back. Your eyes follow him until you pass him.
He does the same, head turning to the black Ferrari that drives you away from the circus that you two created.
You two wonder if it was all worth it. If it was worth the pain, the drama, the bitter taste on your mouths.
