Y/n really didn't know what was wrong with her, her whole body felt like it had changed overnight. There was something very wrong and she knew it but she'd been scared to tell Lando in fear of him worrying and being distracted from F1. That's not something she intends to allow to happen.

It was easy to hide when he wasn't there, obviously. But it was getting progressively harder when he was home.

Lando is thankfully a deep sleeper but y/n couldn't hide it forever and after his Mexico and Brazil wins, he finally finds his bed empty where she's meant to be and the sound of her trying to wretch as quietly as possible.

"Baby? Baby, are you ok?" Lando frowns finding her crossed legged in front of the toilet, her forearm on the seat and her forehead resting on it as she breathes deeply. "Hey, hey. What's happened? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. My stomach just hurt a little." Y/n states hoping she can sell it as a one time thing, nothing a persisting issue of the past 3 weeks.

Lando frowns feeling her for a fever but finding nothing aside from a bit of extra warmth probably just from the action of vomiting.

"I'm ok. Could you just get me some water?" Y/n asks making Lando nod and stand up quickly moving quickly to get into the kitchen and get her a bottle of water before he rushes back to the bathroom where y/n has moved herself away from leaning on the toilet.

After a drink of water, he sighs looking at her while y/n manages a weak smile.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Y/n nods before she sighs softly to herself. "Help me up."

Lando helps y/n up but the frown is obvious on his expression as he look sat her.

"Don't look at me like that." Y/n sighs softly while Lando sighs gently tucking her hair behind her ear then kissing her forehead.

"Let's get you some toast or something."

-

Lando did genuinely believe that y/n was just sick at first but then things hadn't changed and y/n was starting to drastically lose weight from being sick multiple times a day since it was not limited to mornings though it did always strike first then.

Lando felt like there was only one explanation, especially after speaking to his mum and it had to be that y/n was pregnant. Early on which is why her weight loss didn't give anything away.

Meanwhile, y/n had been going to the doctors to get to the bottom of it. She is getting tested and she has made them triple check that there is no chance that it's a pregnancy behind it.

However, she hadn't told Lando because again she wanted to handle it and have an answer that didn't lead to more questions. In truth, y/n really didn't realise that Lando had been thinking up his own explanations for her sickness.

Initially she thought Lando's belly rubs were just his way of trying to help her feel better.

But last night he kissed y/n's belly before passing out and not giving y/n a chance to ask what the hell he was doing. But admittedly she couldn't be sure that's what it was. Maybe he was just trying to bless her stomach to not make her sick in the morning.

However the next morning, y/n is sick and Lando is sitting holding her hair and rubbing her back.

"Lando..." Y/n mumbles as he hands her the water that he's learned to have on hand. "What do you think this is?"

Lando smiles a little almost wriggling with excitement as his hand smoothes over her stomach and she feels it sink. Not just because it's simply not what's happening but because Lando is so visibly excited about the thought.

"Oh baby." Y/n sighs then bringing her hands up to her faces before the usual nausea strikes her like a punch to the gut and she gently pushes him away before rushing to the bathroom.

Eventually the wave passes and y/n sighs looking at Lando while he stands ready with the water.

"It's ok if you are...I'm not scared. It'd be great, I'll make an amazing dad and you'll make the best mum." Lando states softly while y/n winces hearing just how much joy the idea brings him.

"Lando...I'm not pregnant. I make them like triple maybe quadruple check." Y/n sighs making him look completely deflated, the idea of being parents shot down. "They think I've developed some sort of allergy. They're going to run some tests, I might have to start trying to cut things out my diet and just see what it could be. But it's definitely 100% not a baby."

"That's ok. I mean that's...great, they're figuring it all out. It's good, I want you to get better first and foremost."

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you too much until I knew what it was for certain while you're so busy." Y/n mumbles almost feeling guilty for not being pregnant despite that not being her fault, he'll she's on birth control which actually the doctor is also changing to see if that's possibly what's making her sick. "I don't think now...would be a great time anyway."

She tries to be careful and genuinely hopes that it doesn't cause more upset but it backfires.

"Why wouldn't now now be a good time?" Lando frowns making y/n hold her hands out in gesture to herself.

"Look at me, Lando. I've lost like 15 kilos in the past 2 months because I can't keep down food and you are so busy and you will be so busy next season when the new regs come in. I'm not in any physical state to carry a baby until the doctors get to the bottom of this and you already struggle balancing our relationship with work." Y/n states softly while Lando softens a little. "It will happen, I promise you. But we're having sex once every 4-6 weeks and you are so passionate about work I think for now we have plenty of time."

"Yeah."

Y/n sighs seeing Lando forcing himself to look less disappointed and hurt that y/n isn't pregnant and that it won't be something that happens any time soon.

"I'm sorry." Y/n mumbles but Lando only shakes his head and manages a more genuine smile as he cups her face and kisses her forehead.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, at all. Main focus is you getting better and the doctors doing their job to figure it out what's going on with you." Lando states earning a smile before he sighs. "How about...a shower together then you steal my clothes and a chill day? I don't have any work and I'm all yours for the day."

"Sounds like the best day."

-

Y/n gets her allergy results and finds that she's actually developed a wheat allergy but they also think her birth control was making things worse.

It was only just before Abu Dhabi that they realised this so the whole of the winter break y/n spends trying to regain the lost weight with plenty of help from Lando who uses his access to his dietitian to find her stuff she can eat or alternatives so wheat is cut from her diet.

"I didn't realise how boney you'd gotten. You're so nice to cuddle when you're healthy." Lando states earning a grin from the young woman.

"Might be one of the only men on the planet who prefers his girlfriend heavier than at her lightest."

"I prefer you to be healthy, baby. Being underweight and sick every day isn't something I'd ever want for you." Lando huffs shaking his head before he pulls her in more tightly. "I love you and our future baby."

"Still not pregnant."

"Still not for lack of trying on my part." Lando smirks while hooking her leg up on his hip so she's pressed firmly against his crotch with a throaty breath just shy of being a moan.

"I'm still on birth control so you can try as hard as you like but the chances are less than 1%."

"I'm not hearing a 0%." Lando states while y/n snorts a laugh. "And that is the sexiest thing you've ever done."

"Oh fuck off, now you're just trying too hard." Y/n giggles before sighing. "How about we see how things go up to the summer break and if you mind is still set on it, we can discuss trying to get pregnant?"

"Really? You mean it?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"Ok. I can wait till then, and see if you're ready."

Admittedly 2 months ago, Lando actually felt a type of grief over hearing y/n wasn't pregnant and he'd just got himself so convinced that y/n was pregnant, he felt like there was no other possible reason for her being so sick. He'd been so prepared for it, for being parents, for being a dad and being responsible for another person.

"I don't know how on earth I got blessed with you. But I can't wait for the day to come that it is the right time for us to start our own family." Lando states and y/n smiles softly before groaning a little.

"You make it so hard to not just say I'll get off the birth control now and we can get pregnant." Y/n laughs before she looks him in the eye with a serious expression. "It's not happening."

"So rude, but fair." Lando sighs softly then pecking her lips and humming for a moment. "But we can have sex without it being for baby-making."

"Absolutely."

Lando and y/n met when she was in MTC for a meeting, actually hired by McLaren for some copyright infringements since that's what she does.

She's a self-employed copyright lawyer. She has the flexibility, the control to work where she likes and generally so long the work is done by whatever deadline they have then she chooses her hours unless meetings are needed. But she doesn't mind and a lot of the time they're video meetings.

Y/n also makes a pretty decent income, well above average for her age or just the general population and she supports herself.

If there was a song to describe y/n, it'd be Miss Independent by Ne-Yo.

Everything about her has Lando in a tizzy. Whether she's laid back relaxing, if she's working taking calls, cooking, arranging something, but not just that, she can hold her own again any man in the department that men usually feel needed.

Just the other week she found a leaking pipe and rather than call a plumber like Lando had suggested or even let him come over and take a look. She had turned off the stopcock to stop the water to the house then got all the supplies she needed, replaced the pipe, sealed it to make sure no further leaking, turned the water back on and tested it with all success.

"You know I was thinking maybe I could build that set of drawers you had coming. Just while you're working?" Lando offers as he sits on the phone to y/n.

"What? I built them when they arrived, Lando."

"Oh right. Forget that then." Lando laughs finding himself in a situation where he wants to do something to help and be useful for y/n but she's beat him to the punch. "You need anything while I'm on my way over? I could grab a food shop."

He knows she often neglects to do a proper shop and instead just gets top up shops or orders something in. Being in London makes that particularly easy and conveinent.

"No. I knew you were coming so I actually got a full fridge of food, a lot of your favourites and I thought we could order something later anyway." Y/n mumbles clearly focusing on her work. "Baby, I gotta make a call. But I'll see you soon and hopefully if this call goes well, I'll have less work to do than I thought I would so I'll be all yours."

"Yeah, alright. See you soon."

"Ok, see you soon. Bye."

They weren't quite at the point of casually exchanging "I love you"s, that's mainly because of Lando. He knows she's waiting for him, it's a customary wait for the woman to let the man say it first right?

Y/n ends the call leaving Lando to drive in silence, his thoughts getting the better of him as he grips the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white.

Y/n could end things before then when she realises that Lando is nothing to her. He brings nothing to the table that she doesn't already have there or provide for herself.

As much as the sex is great, he knows enough about y/n that she could have any man and use him to get off or buy something that substitutes a man without the strings.

He parks up in the apartment underground parking before beginning to head up to her place. He has been trusted with a key and the code get in from the garage.

He walks into the apartment, the soft smell of her "fresh cotton" candles burning. Her desk overlooking the London skyline.

She rents the apartment from a friend's friend and got a deal on the rent written into an iron clad contract for the next 4 years unless she initiates it. A genius move and the landlord was maybe a fool for agreeing to it but she did charm him before presenting it.

Y/n's desk is positioned at one of the panel windows giving her daylight through the day and the view of a lifetime. How she focuses, he has no idea.

But there she is the powerhouse, working her ass off, funding her life, loving what she does. Sure she gets angry and frustrated when things get difficult but it only makes her work harder. Finding solutions and fixes breathes life into her.

"Hey, did you get the call sorted?" Lando asks making her hum at him as he comes up behind her.

"Sorted, not entirely finished but the call did what I needed it to do." Y/n shrugs then turning and smiling as she stands up from her desk. "I'm glad you're here now."

"Yeah...what can I do for you?"

"Oh nothing. But you're good company obviously." Y/n laughs then sighing before pausing. "I did almost forget, I've cleared my schedule...I can be there for the Melbourne, Shanghai and Suzuka."

"All of March. That's a long trip." Lando mumbles earning a nod.

"A lot of work to miss." Y/n confirms looking an little uneasy at the thought, she built her reputation from the ground up, studied endlessly and went self-employed before anyone else would've dared or suggested she do so. "I'll probably be neck deep in work when I come back but a month off can't do that much harm and I deserve it after like 3 years of no days off. Not even Christmas."

Lando's smile wavers a little knowing y/n works so hard but here he is internally pouting because she does work hard and that just makes him question why she is with him because what does he add to her life.

The money? She has enough for herself. The lifestyle? She hasn't batted an eyelash about it. Cooking and cleaning? Lando could take notes from her for that. Flowers? She has that covered on a weekly order for herself. Though he brings flowers as often as he remembers to.

"Did you park alright? I've never actually checked on my spaces down there. Seems a waste that I never used them." Y/n comments catching Lando's attention and she seems to tense a little realising she exposed something that he was unaware of for a reason.

"You don't?"

"No." Y/n shrugs seeming to look...embarrassed?

"Why not?"

Y/n clears her throat then moving to adjust some stuff on a side table which only pushes Lando to poke a little further as she mutters something under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I can't drive."

"Can't or don't?"

"Can't. I literally crashed...twice in my tests and the examiners both told me that I should not drive. The first one said I should get my eyes checked because it felt like they were driving with a blind person guessing what direction the road moved it." Y/n mumbles and honestly Lando doesn't take more than a few seconds to realise for y/n it's probably her biggest failure, though she's hardly alone in her experience. "The second crash was so humiliating that I gave up and I've never got my licence."

Lando smiles a little as he tilts his head trying to catch her avoiding gaze.

"Why did you never mention it?" Lando asks softly.

"Because...Because I don't like admitting I failed." Y/n sighs then looking at him. "And it's even more frustrating that I'm dating a guy who drives for a living so I had to hide it because who dates a guy who drives for a living and can't drive?"

"I'm dating a woman who works in law but...I don't know a thing about it. Aside from how to not get arrested." Lando states as he moves around in front of her. "It's not a failure."

"I tried to get my licence and they quite literally told me I failed." Y/n deadpans then shaking her head. "I survive, I manage."

"Is that why...you hardly ever get like a full food shop?" Lando asks softly while y/n sighs. "And here I thought I had nothing to offer you."

"What? Why would you think that?"

"I...just don't understand why you're with me when I've had nothing to offer."

"How have you had nothing to offer?"

"Because...you have everything I could give you. You-You have the money to support yourself, you have the ability to live without needing a man. You have your own place in central London-a city you notoriously don't need to be able to drive around. You run a business. You build furniture, you fix pipes, you do everything for yourself and you don't need anyone else. You don't need me." Lando lists. "I have nothing to add to the equation but sex...and a toy can replace me."

Y/n smiles a little at that last part but she's looking at him with a sad expression.

"Lando...you bring so much to my life. I-I mean I know it's early with us. But every time I talk to you, even in my shittiest moods you make me laugh. I love when you come over and want to get me away from my work. You have the most infectious laugh-and for the record, I am not sorry to tell you that I have compared you up against a toy and it does not replace you at all." Y/n states laughing lightly while Lando frowns. "I don't have to need you for all that stuff to still want you."

"I feel like an idiot."

"Good because you sounded like one too." Y/n states shaking her head before she smiles at him and kisses him softly. "Idiot."

"But...I do have one new use." Lando smiles earning a hum. "Driving you around and saving you from just paying."

"Not exactly an issue for me to pay for stuff."

"Well, then you can pay me."

"Oh so you're like my car whore?" Y/n smirks earning a groan. "I hope you realise I'll be having bragging rights about it."

"About me driving you around all the time?"

"Yes. Absolutely." Y/n grins before looking her arms around his neck.

"I'm ok with that-I encourage it actually."

"But seriously Lando...you can't think that you were useless to me? Or not needed. I mean even if you personality sucked-which it doesn't. Or if you were shockingly bad in bed, or had no money or were so ugly I couldn't look at you-"

"Ok, you're both hurting my feelings and inflating my ego where are you going with this?" Lando asks making her sigh at him.

"I mean I love you, Lando. Even if you're not there, I'm not embarrassed to say it and I want you to know that." Y/n smiles making him nod at her.

"I love you too. I'm sorry for being an idiot."

"You're not actually an idiot, Lando. You're an over thinker who just needs to speak to me about what you're thinking, ok? I'm too blunt to not just tell you exactly how it is." Y/n smiles making him nod and smile at her. "Ok. So now we're past that-you feel like you have a use though you really didn't need to feel like that. Because I just want to date you and be around you and in your presence. I enjoy being together with you."

"I want that too-with you though. Obviously." Lando smiles nervously while y/n nods a little.

"Good then we're in agreement." Y/n grins then pecking his lips. "So how about a drive?"

"Yes...and then we're pulling over and having car sex because this might be the best I've felt for a while now." Lando declares earning a laugh.

The final European Grand Prix before the mandatory Summer Break was always a grueling affair, not just for the teams, but for the partners who lived and breathed the chaotic energy of the paddock.

This year, it was worse. The heat was a thick blanket, the pressure was palpable—Lando needed a strong finish to solidify his mid-season standing—and you, unfortunately, had picked up something nasty.

It started subtly on Thursday night, a dry scratch in the back of your throat you blamed on the recycled air of the F1 travel bubble. By Friday practice, it had escalated to a dull, throbbing ache behind your eyes.

You swallowed four ibuprofen tablets before the driver’s briefing, hoping the pain would stay low enough not to show in your forced bright smile.

Your motivation for hiding it was simple: Lando was stretched thin. He looked frazzled, running on caffeine and pure adrenaline, trying to squeeze every last tenth out of the car.

If you admitted you were debilitatingly ill, he would instantly switch from F1 driver mode to frantic boyfriend mode, and you couldn't bear to be the reason he lost focus in the final race before the long, restful pause.

“You look a little pale, love,” Lando said Friday evening, his brow furrowed as he stripped off his race suit in the small, temporary team room.

You were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be deeply fascinated by team social media updates. “Just the lighting,” you chirped, managing a believable laugh that didn't sound like a cough. “And I swear the humidity here steals all the colour out of your face.”

He accepted the explanation easily enough. He was too preoccupied analyzing telemetrics to interrogate your appearance. He kissed the top of your head, smelling faintly of sweat and burning oil, and rushed off to media commitments.

You spent the rest of the evening nursing a mug of tea that tasted like nothing, trying to ignore the persistent clamminess of your skin.

Race day was a blur of noise, blinding sunlight, and sheer force of will.

Every step felt like wading through water. Your head pounded rhythmically with the roar of the engines. You took up a position near the hospitality suite, forcing yourself to stay standing, convinced that if you sat down, you might not be able to get back up.

The symptoms were demanding attention now. A deep, shivering chill kept sweeping over you, followed immediately by waves of overheating. You were perpetually teetering on the edge of nausea.

When Lando climbed out of the car after a masterful, defensive race that netted him crucial points, the scene exploded into chaos.

You pushed through the celebrating mechanics, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs—a rhythm that had more to do with fever than excitement.

He spotted you by the barriers and his face split into a triumphant grin. He was buzzing, high on adrenaline and relief. He swept you up in a fierce, sweaty hug.

“We did it! Summer break, finally!” he yelled against your ear.

The smell of his sweat—raw and salty—hit you like a punch. You instinctively gripped his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as the world tilted.

“Amazing, Lan,” you whispered, trying to pull away subtly before the hug lasted too long. The heat radiating off his body was too much.

He held you at arm’s length, his eyes shining. “Seriously, are you okay? You look… shaky.”

Panic flared. You flashed the best, most convincing smile you could muster. “Yeah, just the sheer volume of noise. My ears are ringing. Let’s get you out of here, please. I need quiet.”

It was the perfect excuse. He was used to your sensitivity to the post-race noise level. He wrapped a supportive arm around your lower back, guiding you back toward the private transport area.

Every fiber of your being was focused on maintaining a rigid, upright posture, refusing to give in to the overwhelming fatigue pulling you down.

You survived the post-race interviews, the mandatory team dinner, and the goodbyes. The promise of Monaco, of your own quiet apartment and two weeks of mandatory rest, was the only thing keeping you upright.

The private jet was a sanctuary of cool air and soft leather, but even this comfort felt like a trial.

As soon as the 'seatbelt' sign clicked off, you bypassed the plush seating area and made a beeline for the small master cabin, claiming you needed to prep the next leg of travel logistics.

Lando, collapsing onto a couch with an audible sigh of exhaustion, looked relieved but concerned. “Don’t start working, love. We’re officially on holiday. Come sit. I ordered the chicken satay; I know how much you love it.”

“In a minute,” you mumbled, shutting the door. You didn't dare look at the satay. Just the mention of spicy peanuts turned your stomach sour.

You stripped down to your clothes and lay on the bed, pulling the thick, woolen airplane blanket up to your chin. You were freezing. Absolutely, teeth-chatteringly cold, even though the cabin temperature was perfectly temperate.

You drifted in and out of a shallow, feverish sleep, the kind where dreams and reality blur together.

When the cabin door opened softly, you jolted awake. Lando was standing there, a bottle of water in his hand.

“Hey. Just checking on you,” he said, his voice low. He sat gently on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been asleep since we took off. That's unusual. Usually, you’re reading or editing photos.”

You forced your eyes open, noting the time difference. You’d been out for nearly three hours.

“Just super wiped out,” you lied, your voice rough and dry. You sat up, propping yourself against the pillows. “It was a crazy weekend. I think my body just finally shut down knowing we made it to the break.”

Lando reached out and feathered his fingers across your forehead, a gesture so tender it almost broke your carefully constructed façade.

“You’re a little warm,” he noted, his tone shifting from casual concern to genuine worry.

You moved your head quickly, claiming you just had your hair wrapped under the blanket. “It’s fine, Lan. Just residual paddock heat. I promise. I’m just excited to crash properly in our own bed.”

He looked unconvinced, but he knew you were stubborn. He kissed your cheek, lingering for a moment, and then got up, taking the empty water bottle. “Okay. But when we land, we are going straight to bed. No unpacking, no dealing with mail. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you breathed, relief flooding through you. You just had to make it through the landing.

The journey from Nice airport back to the familiar quiet of your Monaco apartment was agonizing. You sat silently in the sleek car, curled against the passenger door, focusing fiercely on the lights flashing past the window. The headache was now seismic, every bump in the road sending a fresh wave of pain.

You were so close. Just a few more minutes, and you could hide in the privacy of your own shower and bed.

When the car finally pulled up to the secured entrance of the building, Lando was already springing out, retrieving your luggage with the energy of a man who knew two weeks of PlayStation and no engine noise awaited him.

You followed him into the elevator, leaning heavily against the cool metal wall.

“I’m going to run a bath,” Lando announced cheerfully as the doors opened onto your floor, the scent of sea salt and expensive cleaning products hitting your nose. “Or maybe just a quick shower. Then we can order that terrible pizza place we love.”

“Sounds perfect,” you croaked. You started to pull off your travel bag, but your hands felt weak. “Listen, I’ll just… I’m going to hit the bathroom first. Long flight.”

You knew you only had seconds. The adrenaline that had carried you since Friday was finally depleting completely, leaving you hollow and dizzy. You needed to get away from Lando before he saw the visible tremor in your hands.

You rushed through the apartment, not even stopping to drop your bag. You bolted into the master bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it with a trembling hand.

You leaned against the cool wood, closing your eyes, taking deep, gasping breaths. You felt the sudden, alarming rush of blood leaving your face.

Just hold still. Just breathe. You’re home. You’re safe.

You took one step toward the vanity, intending to splash cold water on your face, but the room began to whirl with terrifying speed. The sleek, pale marble floor seemed to rise up to meet you.

A strangled sound escaped your throat, a desperate attempt to catch your balance, but it was too late. Your knees buckled, and the last coherent thought you had was the crushing weight of failure—you hadn't quite made it.

Then, there was only blackness, followed by the sickening, echoing thud as your body hit the floor tiles.

Lando had just reached the kitchen, tossing his car keys onto the counter, when the sound ripped through the apartment. It wasn't the sound of dropping luggage or a glass breaking; it was heavy, dense, and utterly wrong.

He froze.

“Love? Are you okay?” he called out, instantly discarding the keys and sprinting toward the master suite.

Silence. Only the faint running water he’d left on in the sink.

He tried the bathroom door. Locked.

“Hey! Open up! What was that noise?” He rattled the handle, his voice tight with sudden, raw fear.

“Open the door, dammit! I mean it!”

When there was still no response, his professional calm shattered. Lando Norris was used to dealing with high-speed crashes and mechanical failure, but the terrifying silence behind that mahogany door was the worst crisis he had ever faced.

He kicked the door hard, right near the lock, but the heavy installation held. He backed up, took a running start, and kicked again, pouring all his pent-up racing adrenaline into the action.

The wood around the latch finally splintered with a horrible crack. He shoved the door open and stopped dead, the sight of you crumpled on the floor instantly stealing the air from his lungs.

You were lying awkwardly next to the marble vanity, your head resting against the cool cabinet, your face ash-white. You looked impossibly small and frail.

"Oh, God. No."

Lando dropped to his knees beside you, his hands shaking so violently he could barely check your pulse against your wrist. It was weak, but rapid. You were breathing, shallow gasps escaping your lips.

"Hey. Stay with me. Wake up, please. Wake up."

He didn't waste time trying to move you far. He scooped you into his arms, your body feeling unnaturally heavy and limp. He carried you out of the humid, confining bathroom and laid you gently on the bed.

He grabbed the phone, his fingers slick with sweat, and dialed his manager, Zak, and then the emergency line, his voice high-pitched and choked.

When you woke up, it wasn't the harsh rush of paramedics or sirens you heard, but the sound of Lando’s quiet, desperate voice across the room. He was talking to a doctor, his back to you.

"…no, she's been insisting she's fine since Friday… I thought she was just tired. Severe dehydration combined with what? A viral infection? Why didn't she tell me?" His voice cracked on the last sentence, laced with guilt and furious frustration.

You tried to sit up, a low groan escaping your lips.

Lando spun around instantly. He was a wreck. His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot, and he was still wearing the same clothes from the flight. The panic hadn't left his expression.

He was beside you in an instant, gently pushing you back down. “Don’t move. Lie still. I’m right here.”

He moved with meticulous care, adjusting the pillows and placing a cool compress on your forehead.

"You absolute idiot," he whispered, but the harsh words were belied by the gentleness of his touch. He took your hand, holding it tight, bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss. "What were you thinking? Hiding this? You scared the hell out of me."

Tears pricked your eyes, not from the pain, but from the sudden, overwhelming wave of his affection and fear.

"I’m so sorry, Lan," you whispered, your throat aching. "I didn't want to distract you. It was the last race. You needed the points. I thought I could make it until the plane landed."

He shook his head vehemently, leaning closer until his forehead rested against yours. "Distract me? You think your health, you, are a distraction? Nothing is more important than you. If you were sick, I should have pulled you out of the paddock, taken you home, and nursed you back to health. Points are replaceable. You are not."

He pulled back slightly, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. "It doesn't matter if I finish P10 or P1. If you're on the floor and I don't know why, nothing else matters."

You reached up, tracing the deep lines of worry etched around his eyes. "I know. It was stupid. Blind stubbornness."

"Yes," he agreed immediately, though his face softened. "But I love your blind stubbornness. Just not when it almost gets you hospitalized."

He helped you sip some water, waiting patiently until you managed to swallow it without triggering nausea.

The doctor, consulted over the phone, confirmed the diagnosis: a severe viral infection, likely flu, made dangerous by total exhaustion and acute dehydration from pushing yourself too hard in the heat.

There was no need for the hospital, but mandatory, absolute rest was required for at least a week.

Lando didn't leave your side for the next 48 hours. The Summer Break plans—the spontaneous road trip, the parties—were instantly forgotten, replaced by a fierce, devoted domesticity.

He moved a makeshift desk into the bedroom so he could answer emails while keeping an eye on you. He slept in the armchair beside the bed, waking every hour to check your temperature, murmuring soft words of comfort even when you were asleep.

He made you bland toast and flavorless broth, careful not to let you overexert yourself even by lifting your head.

On the third afternoon, the fever finally broke. You woke up feeling clear-headed, though utterly weak, the world no longer tilting off its axis.

You found Lando dozing on the chair, his head leaned back, a half-read racing magazine fallen in his lap. He looked exhausted.

"Lan," you called softly.

He stirred, blinking his heavy eyelids open. When he saw you, truly lucid and looking better, a massive wave of visible relief washed over his face.

"Hey, you," he whispered, crossing to the bed. He sat beside you, drawing his fingers gently through your damp hair.

"I'm sorry I ruined the start of your break," you said.

He leaned down and pressed a long, tender kiss to your forehead, then to your lips. "You didn't ruin anything. This is the break," he said, pulling the duvet up around your chin. "Resting, taking care of the person I love most in the world? This is exactly what I needed. Everything else can wait."

He settled onto the bed beside you, carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his warmth, no longer clammy or shivering, but comforted.

You felt the steady beat of his heart against your temple, a reassuring rhythm that spoke of safety and love. You closed your eyes, finally, truly home and safe, knowing Lando wouldn't let anything hurt you now.

The Summer Break had begun, quietly, tenderly, and perfectly imperfectly. . .

"are you sure? what're your symptoms?"

you're surely worried now as you pad over to his side, brows pinched in concern. feeling unwell is one thing, but getting sick right before one of the most physically challenging races on the calendar is a nightmare.

"feels like i'm swallowing sandpaper, and my head is pounding, and my bones hurt. those aren't supposed to hurt."

"no, they're definitely not," you agree, pressing your palm against his forehead. you're expecting him to be a little warm, but it feels like he's burning up under your touch. you sigh, pushing slightly damp curls away from his face to study him. sure enough, there's a sheen of sweat over his skin and his eyes are a little bloodshot, a little glassy. "i'll call jon and let him know."

"no, it's fine, i can—" his protests are cut off by a series of hacking coughs, and you wince. it even sounds like it hurts. "fuck."

"i will tell jon. you need to rest," you insist, firmer this time. lando looks like he wants to fight back, but doesn't because he knows you're right. "go change into comfier clothes. you must be boiling alive in all those layers. i mean, a hoodie in ninety percent humidity, lando?"

"regretting that decision right about now," he mutters, shucking off the material. his kit underneath is sweaty as well, and he lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. "i think i'm just gonna go take a cold shower."

"good idea."

"kiss before i go?"

"and contract whatever illness you've got?" you scoff, arching a skeptical brow. "i love you, but no thank you."

lando musters a sly grin, shrugging on his way to the bathroom. "worth a shot."

by the time he reemerges with a cloud of steam in only a pair of soft shorts, you've already accomplished a handful of things.

you'd called lando's trainer, who materialized at the door in no time with an armful of hydration concoctions and a few approved supplements for lando to take to hopefully get him feeling as best he could. jon would've stayed longer, but both you and he know the busyness of a race weekend. you'd assured him you'd take very good care of your boyfriend.

you'd ordered some food from room service for lando to eat with the meds. nothing too extravagant, just some soup and a chicken wrap, because he never really is hungry when he's feeling poorly. but he does need to eat something.

you'd laid out your personal stash of helpful items for a bout of illness, hoping something would come in use. you're no stranger to traveling with lando to races, and with that came experience in knowing what to pack just in case. cooling compresses, tissues, things like that.

"feel better?" you ask, smiling warmly at lando. he looks a smidge better, a little more revitalized than before as he nods. then he squints at the multitude of items on the table, head cocking.

"did you pack a whole pharmacy in your suitcase, or something?" he jokes, voice scratchy. "oh, so you're my doctor now! didn't know they made 'em this hot. lucky me, huh?"

you roll your eyes at his flirting attempt, passing a bottled drink to him as he settles into the plush pillow on the bed. "here, drink this. jon says you need to keep hydrated."

"thanks, babe." lando smiles gratefully, before grabbing his phone off the bedside table. "i should call him, just keep him updated."

"he knows. i've told him already, and promised to send hourly updates on your condition. offered to send proof of life too, but he didn't seem too keen on that."

lando blinks blankly. you can picture the wheels turning in his head, wondering what to do next. "then i should look over the telemetry from fp2 again, see what i can fix next session. where's my—"

"tablet? i'm under strict instructions to have you rest as much as you can before tomorrow. that means no data for now. sorry, bub."

"...okay. what can i do, then?"

"eat something. take these meds, take a nap. let your body try to fight whatever is going through your system so you can feel the best you can in the car."

"so...do nothing?" he asks warily, rubbing at his nose. you nod. "that feels wrong on so many levels."

"doctor's orders," you hum, scooting closer to him. you open your arms, beckoning him towards you. "c'mere, i'll spoon you."

he shakes his head quickly. "i don't wanna get you sick, baby," he insists.

"don't be silly, lan."

"what happened to not wanting to get what i've got?"

"guess you'll just have to play hot doctor for me on your week off."

lando's mouth quirks up into a cheeky grin, and he nods. "uh, yeah, i can do that!"

and so you find yourself being used as lando's personal pillow, his head nestled comfortably on your chest, legs a tangled mess, arms tucked around you snugly as your fingers comb through his hair in slow, soothing motions.

even now, after a little bit of food and some medicine, he's still warm to the touch, but not uncomfortably so anymore. he seems in better spirits too, although still tired judging from the way his eyes flutter open and shut.

"m'sorry you got sick," you murmur, stroking a gentle hand down his arm.

he manages a sluggish half-shrug. "i'll survive. i've got the best doctor in the whole world to take care of me, don't i?"

"and don't you forget it."

-------

"you didn't drink anything during the race."

one side of lando's mouth quirks into a sheepish smile as he approaches you in mclaren hospitality after all his responsibilities are fulfilled. "noticed that, did you?"

"uh huh."

"sorry, doc. wasn't really feeling hot water at the time." he sets his bottle down on the table, grabbing both your hands to haul you to your feet for a hug. of course you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return, but you won't pretend he's off the hook.

though he did drive a phenomenal run just now, something you keep in mind as his lips find your ear to murmur words he doesn't quite want any cameras to pick up.

"i could've done more," he sighs. his chin finds the crook of your neck, big sigh exhaled against your skin.

you frown and pull back so he can see it, fingers brushing across his browline to smooth out the furrow between them. "you did everything you could."

"if i'd just had a few more laps, i could've—"

"lando."

"sorry. i know, i did my best, i just...wish my best was better. that's all." he shrugs, mouth pressing into a thin line.

"you did great. congratulations on the constructor's championship too." you press a kiss to one cheek, then the other when the first one gets him to smile. "proud of you!"

"thanks, baby. means a lot from you," he says gratefully, swiping a fond thumb over the apple of your cheek. "let me go get changed and we can get out of here. i just wanna go back to the hotel and sleep."

"no team celebrations?"

"the team are going out, but i kinda feel like shit right now, so. think i'll just see everyone back at mtc." he smiles again, but now you see the toll this race and whatever bug he's got has taken on him.

his skin is pale and clammy again, breaths labored, and he does look a bit nauseous.

lando is exhausted, physically and mentally—you can tell in the way he moves a little slower, takes a few more seconds to react to his surroundings. there's nothing more he wants to do than to be with them, but his body is telling him he's done for the day.

"they'll understand," you assure him, easing one of his arms around your shoulders and looping one of yours around his waist. he takes the support you give gladly, leaning on you as you maneuver through the common area full of people. "c'mon, let's get you changed."

"you're gonna help me?" he asks earnestly, perking up a little.

"not in the way you're thinking of, perv," you snort, giving his side a pinch that he whines at. "the second we get back to the hotel, i'm loading you with electrolytes and medicine, then you're gonna sleep for at least two hours."

"will the nice doctor also prescribe a back rub?"

"maybe. if you're good and take your medicine without moaning about the taste."

lando's face screws up into an expression of disgust. "but it's gross. it's not even flavored, or anything!"

"you want a back rub or not?"

"shoulders too?"

"sure, lan."

"m'kay, fine. i'll be a good boy."

and even in your quiet world, you heard everything clearly.

the day had been quiet, one spent in the flat, long. it had been filled a multitude of calls, meetings, and the chaos that surrounded the hum of formula 1. the flat had felt impossibly calm though after the noise stopped. you and lando were both sprawled out on the couch. lando had his headphones draped over his neck, scrolling through something on his phone that you couldn't see, probably something stupid. you had your implants in, catching even the subtlest of sounds that rang out through the apartment. the clinks of lando's coffee mug that he was drinking out of, his jeans scraping against the leather sofa, the hum of the city outside.

"you're being weirdly quiet today," he had murmured, leaning forward with a small tilt to his head.

"i'm not quiet," you had replied softly, your fingers brushing the fabric of his hoodie. "i'm just...aware."

lando only grinned, leaning closer to you, his voice lowering in volume. "i like aware."

and then the whisper, one that was barely above the sound of his own breath. "i like you."

that moment had hit you differently from the first time that you had heard lando's voice. your implants picked up his warmth, intimacy, the way he had let his voice dip, just the slightest bit so that what he said belonged only to you. you had frozen for a moment, your heart doing a couple somersaults.

"did you...actually say that?" you whispered back, your voice trembling, almost like you were afraid that what he had said was some trick of your implants.

lando smiled sheepishly in return, "yeah, just for you, nobody else gets to hear that."

and from there, your implants catching every nuance, every subtle vibration of the words that left his lips, you had felt a thrill that wasn't like anything that silence alone had ever given you.

another one of his patterns, late nights, the world having quieted down, lando curled up beside you, one arm draped over your waist, whisper things that you didn't need him to sign to you. small affirmations, little confessions.

"i love the way you laugh," he had whispered one night, his voice was soft, careful, a tone just low enough that the only thing that could catch it was your ears.

you had blinked, turning your head to look at him. "do you mean that?"

"every single word," he whispered back, his hand coming up to brush a loose strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear. "even when i'm being annoying."

he was being truthful. you heard the sincerity in his voice, every syllable holding nothing but raw honesty. his voice would trail off sometimes, dipping lower, his words becoming something that was more intimate, more weight being carried: you are my person.

his words weren't just resonating, rather lingering. you could hear his faint breaths, the way he had shifted closer to you, the pauses that spoke more than any words ever did.

for the first time, you had realized that, your hearing didn't just take away from silence, but rather it added depth to it. you had the choice to be quiet still, when you needed it most, but now, sound had become some secret layer between you two.

it was a saturday morning, your bedroom had been filled with sunlight, coffee fragrance drifting in from where it was sitting on the counter in the kitchen. your implants in, stretching as you blink against the light, you shifted in the bed. lando moved from where he was beside you, his hair falling over his eyes.

"morning," he whispered, his fingertip brushing over your jaw.

"morning," you replied sleepily with a soft smile.

his head leaned in, moving to rest almost against your collarbone. "i missed you last night," he murmured.

you only smiled, your heart thudding so hard against your chest you were convinced he could hear it. "you were right here."

"not enough," he said in return, the words whispered so carefully, like they needed to stay between the two of you. "i want every bit of you. all of you."

you chest tightened at his words. there was a difference for you between him signing and hearing him actually say these things. signing was deliberate, it was beautiful, visual. but hearing him whisper, sounding so soft, quiet, almost shy, it made his words feel weighty in a new way, filling the space that surrounded the two of you, lingering in the air, and finally settling into your chest.

your hands reached out for him, your forehead moving to press against his. "every bit of me?"

"yes," he whispered again. "all of it. always."

race weekends were the loudest, the noise being amplified by your implants, it was consistent chaos. even in this chaos though, lando would always break through and find some way to reach you. his hand grabbing for yours in the paddock, head leaning close so that the words he said were meant only for you.

"relax, focus on me, not the madness," he whispered, the engines roaring around you.

you squeezed his hand in return, his words sinking in. his words becoming a lifeline through the chaotic paddock. even the fans and the press couldn't touch the intimacy of the space he carved for you.

later, after the podium ceremony, he found you and pulled you aside, out of earshot of everyone. "i'm proud of you," he murmured, his voice at a low level, intimate. "and i'm proud of us."

there was sincerity in his words, and you could the vibration of his chest against yours, sensing the love in every one of his quiet syllables. his words becoming a sanctuary for you in a world that was usually loud and chaotic.

not all of the whispers were tender, sometimes they were apologies.

one evening, you and lando got into a misunderstanding about something trivial, the argument escalating quickly. your implants were in, listening, the ton and pitch of his frustration felt throughout your body. when he realized he crossed a line, he came over, kneeling in front of you, his voice a soft tone, deliberate.

"i'm sorry," he whispered. "i didn't mean that. I was... I was stupid."

you nodded, you heart softening to him and his words. "it's okay," you said, quietly, your voice shaking just the slightest.

"i mean it," he had continued, his body leaning closer. "you're amazing, and i... i don't ever want to hurt you. ever."

hearing those words, in his actual voice, it gave them weight you that you hadn't known when he signed them alone. his voice sent a vibration through your implants, the sound hitting your chest as well as your ears, and finally, you let yourself melt into his arms.

the whispers weren't always serious, sometimes they were teasing.

you were having a lazy afternoon in the flat, lando had crawled behind you as you sat at the kitchen counter, preparing lunch for the both of you. "guess what i just thought of?" he whispered.

"what?" you had asked back, a smile on your face as you listened.

"you," he said back, his voice low, conspiratorial, "thinking about me in my helmet."

your laugh rang out, the one he loved so much, filling the room as you spun around, your fingers brushing his sides. "shut up!"

his laugh joined yours, filling the space around, his voice whispering again, "nope. not possible. i look heroic."

even those playful whispers had a weight in your ears. they made your chest flutter in a way that signing couldn't. they held a secret to them, something intimate, something completely yours.

you had realized over time that the combination of sound and silence gave your relationship with lando certain layers. some nights, you would take the implants off, just taking the time to breath each other in. other nights, you would keep them on, let him whisper in your ears, letting the words settle over like a soft tide, filling space in your world that silence couldn't reach.

lando had adapted naturally, intuitively, to both of those layers. he had learned to sign, when to whisper, when to simply just hold onto you. but in every moment, his love was constant. loud or quiet, or somewhere in between, it was always there.

the rain drummed softly against the window one night, lando had been curled around you as you both lay on the sofa, his lips pressed against your temple as he whispered, a tone that felt soft and warm. "you're my favorite sound."

you smiled, your fingers moving to tangle in his hair. "and you're mine."

the silence lingered even with your implants on, but it was one that was full instead of empty. it was full of him. full of his love. his whispered words, soft confessions, his quiet devotion that no chaos, no noise, would ever be able to drown out.

You’re lounging on Lando’s couch, half-scrolling your phone, half-watching him fiddle with some random controller he’d abandoned halfway through a game. He’s sitting cross-legged, hair messy from running his hands through it, completely unaware of your little plan.

You glance at him, trying to keep a straight face. “I think I’m gonna head out,” you say casually, slipping your phone into your pocket.

His head snaps up, instantly, like a puppy hearing the treat bag. “Where?” He asks with the most wholesome cute smile known to man.

You bite back your grin. “Back to my apartment. Y’know . . . home.”

The smile on his face falters, his brows pulling together like you just told him Christmas got canceled. “But . . . but why?” His voice dips, soft, like he’s genuinely confused. “You could just stay here.”

“I’ve already overstayed my welcome,” you tease, standing up to stretch.

He immediately shakes his head, scrambling up after you. “No. No, you haven’t. Not even close. You can stay as long as you want. Stay tonight, yeah?” He’s following you to the entryway, pouting so hard it’s almost comical, but there’s a real desperation underneath it—like the thought of you not being there is unbearable.

You slip on your jacket, ignoring how he hovers close enough to bump into you every time you move. “I’ll just go back,” you say, pretending to be stubborn.

“Okay, fine . . .” He sighs, dramatically, and slumps against the wall like you just broke his little heart. But then his eyes flick back to you, soft and pleading. “At least let me drive you back.”

You laugh, finally meeting his gaze. He looks ridiculous, pouting with his arms crossed, curls flopping into his face like some abandoned puppy at the pound. “Lando, you look so sad right now.”

“‘Cause I am sad,” he mutters, and even his voice has that pouty edge.

You shake your head, stepping into your shoes while he trails behind you, sulking. He holds the door open when you finally step out, leaning on the frame like it’s taking all his strength not to beg again. He doesn’t even want to close it, just stands there watching you with those big brown eyes as you head toward the elevator.

You press the button and glance back at him, still standing there, shoulders hunched, lips in a full pout. It tugs at your chest until you can’t help it—you break into a smile, spin around, and march back to him.

His head lifts instantly, hope flickering. “Wait—?”

Before he can finish, you throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

For a beat he’s frozen, then all at once he scoops you up off the ground, spinning you back inside with a laugh. “You’re evil,” he murmurs against your hair, relief dripping from his tone, “but I’m so glad you’re evil.”

You giggle into his shoulder, clinging to him as he carries you straight back into the apartment, door swinging shut behind you.

All characteristics that were able to describe him perfectly.

But, above all, a simp and very affectionate.

Well at least when it came to you. He knew that and he was perfectly fine with that. So yes, he was a giant simp for you and your mannerisms. How you were always composed and collected, seemingly unshakable and ready to face any challenge thrown your way. Of course he knew that it was a front and that you secretly you were as soft as cotton candy and trying to pet as many cats as you possibly could.

A true softie disguised as a confident and capable woman.

Well not quite. You indeed were all those things and more, not just a mask to hide behind, but truly capable to hold your own because that’s what you had always done. Even before him.

Before him you had been a long time single, having moved from your parents house into your own place at the age of 17. Not that you had minded much.

You were comfortable with the way things had been going for you and meeting Lando had been more of a chance meeting then a planned one during vacation in Abu Dhabi. Never had you thought that the exchange phone numbers would result in more then 1 or 2 texts. The start of your relationship had been a big change for you, one that had you flustered and overwhelmed on multiple occasions.

And now, years later, you wouldn’t change anything about how you and Lando were with each other and neither would he.

The one thing that still stuck however and that he still had to figure out how to get out of you was PDA. Well not just PDA but receiving affection in general. Wherever it was a gentle hand on the small of your back in passing, walking through the paddock holding your hand or a simple kiss to the cheek. Hell Lando had even caught you tense in surprise as he put his hands on your shoulder from behind while you were working on your desk at home. Only for a split second and you had relaxed again, but not without that lingering tension that send heat up to your cheeks and ears.

And when you once again joined him trackside on Saturday for qualifying after driving to the airport right after work, even leaving an hour earlier, you took your usual place in the back of the garage that was out of the way from engineers doing what they did best but still close enough so you can watch and bicker with him over the fact that you were in fact not going to eat asparagus ever in your life.

He dramatically blew you a kiss before pulling out into the pit lane, Oscar right behind him and Max upfront. Lando knew exactly that you had most likely rolled your eyes at him with that barely hidden smirk of yours. God he loved you. Simple as that.

“So? How’d I do?” he asked when the helmet was off and he was out of the Car.

“Were you trying to make my heart stop, Norris? What the fuck was that Q2? Huh?!” you rambled, the nerves of quali still audible in your voice. “Zak even offered me a shot to calm down!”

Lando huffed and stepped closer to your raging and wildly gesturing form, reaching for your hands to lower them down to your side, his head tilted sideways just the slightest bit. Amusement rolling off of him in waves.

“Q2? Yeah, quite tight that one I admit. But come one, love, P2 in the 3rd stint? Impressive after nearly being out.”

HE watched your confidence falter at the touch as he pulled you closer, eyes flying and swallowing once while overplaying what was running through your mind.

“Stop being cocky, impressive would have been Pole.” You forced with your head still held high but your shoulder barely raised.

“You’re here. I’m good with P2.” He shrugged and quickly tilts your chin back up when the sweet words left you looking down. His lips met yours for just a second, startling a small sound out of you and Lando smiled happily upon hearing it.

“You’re so cute when you’re getting shy.” He murmured into the small space between your faces.

Heat rushed up your spine and through your veins. You bashfully pushed him away and took.

Mainly because early in their relationship she was not consistent in doing so and it ended up with her getting dizzy while they were out on a golf course and she fell in the pond. It was only the first time and eventually Lando started insisting he keep hold of her pills just so he could make sure she took them.

Obviously he can't always be there, sometimes he's travelling. Sometimes he's working and a lot of the time she's doing stuff in her own life.

So he also always makes sure that she has pills at the ready in all of her jacket pockets, all her bags and he texts her to make sure she takes them by a certain time of day.

But Lando also has looked into how to add more iron into her diet. A favourite way to do this, finding ways to feed her steak at least twice weekly.

"Here." Lando smiles as they sit down for lunch which Lando is having a steak with salad while y/n is getting steak, salad with some potatoes.

"Thank you." Y/n yawns since she has been sleeping a lot.

Lando did remind her to take her pill yesterday, but she was out and he's not certain she did so her tiredness is making his skin prickle in suspicion of the fact that she's only ever this tired after she hasn't taken her pills.

He has been busy for a couple days and she's been trying to keep herself busy too. Which could be another reason that she's tired. But Lando knows her better than that. Which is why he stands up grabbing a glass of water and a her pills.

"You haven't taken them for a couple days, have you?" Lando sighs as he sits down beside her again placing the glass down and holding the pill.

"I got your messages, but they were always at the worst times so I forgot." Y/n pouts before sighing and opening her mouth for him to place the pill on her tongue. She swallows it down with a few gulps of water before wrinkling he nose as she usually does. "It still tastes gross."

"Better than having low iron and falling over." Lando shrugs with a small smile since he knows she's not mad but just hates that her body can't just maintain normal iron levels. "Alright, lets eat."

Y/n hums since she is actually pretty hungry and she didn't have much to eat last night before she crashed out hard in bed and Lando only just woke her up about 20 minutes ago so they could eat together.

She does perk up about an hour after they've eaten and doesn't seem so needy to want to sleep.

-

Lando smiles as he climbs out the car from FP2, he is pretty happy with the car. It's not causing any issues and it's handling well. No complaints, that's for certain.

He gets out his helmet, placing it on the side along with his balaclava before going for his weigh-in. Y/n is in the McLaren unit, having chosen to watch the practice from there instead of the garage. Sometimes it's just more comfortable.

So after weighing-in and a quick debrief, he finds y/n waiting for him. Her body slumped down on the sofa she'd seated herself on and Lando frowns moving over to her for a moment.

He has grown a sort of 6th sense. Sometimes even when she is taking her iron pills, which he knows she did take today because he made sure of it.

"Look at me." Lando sighs moving to her, cupping her face as he leans over her. He tugs her eyes down gently and sighs looking at how pale the inside lower part of her eye (Idk what it's called but I don't think Lando would either so we're running with this) and frowns. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah, just a bit cold." Y/n nods with a smile. She doesn't seem tired, or especially tired. It's not like it's incredibly late in the day but it has been a bit of a long day for a Friday.

"Let's go, I wanna grab something big to eat."

Lando does this a lot. His way of going to get her a meal that is rich in iron to try and get her iron levels back up when it's obvious that the pills aren't doing a good enough job.

So when he texted you midweek: I’ve got three days off, I could fly out?, you nearly dropped your phone.

You told him it was a terrible idea. He said, " Perfect, see you soon." Which was how you ended up waking up on a humid Thursday morning, sneaking him through the back gate of the villa in last night’s hoodie, and pressing your finger to your lips as you giggled down the hallway to your room. You hadn’t slept much after that.

By morning, the villa was buzzing. Kids running around, someone yelling about sunscreen, your mum already planning the shopping list. You stretched out in bed, tangled in sheets and Lando’s arms, grinning at the thought that no one knew he was right there.

“I’ll make breakfast,” he murmured against your neck, kissing lazily.

“You’ll get caught.”

“Then I’ll make extra.”

You groaned, tried to stop him, but within minutes he was in the kitchen wearing nothing but grey sweats and a t-shirt, hair sticking up in every direction, humming as he cracked eggs into a pan. And that was exactly when your Uncle walked in. He stopped dead in the doorway, sunglasses perched on his balding head, travel bag still slung over his shoulder. He blinked once. Twice. Then said, in the most baffled voice imaginable, “Why is Lando Norris making eggs in the kitchen?”

The room went still. Your mum turned from the fridge, spatula in hand, eyes darting between Lando and your uncle. One of your cousins poked their head in, mouth falling open. And from the hallway, your little brother shouted, “Wait- the Lando Norris?”

You sprinted in, cheeks burning. “Okay, everyone just-chill-”

But it was too late. The villa exploded into noise. Your aunt gasped loud enough to shake the windows. “You’re dating a Formula 1 driver?” Another cousin shrieked, “Oh my god, he’s hotter in person.” Your dad frowned from the corner, arms crossed. “Since when do you even like racing?”

And through it all, Lando just kept flipping eggs, grinning like the smug bastard he was. “Since I started picking her up from work,” he said easily, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

You buried your face in your hands. By the time breakfast was served, your family had commandeered the table like it was a press conference. Every question was thrown at once. How long had this been going on? Was it serious? Was he good to you? Did he drive too fast on normal roads? Could he get them tickets to Silverstone?

Lando handled it with infuriating ease, answering politely, cracking jokes, even teasing your cousins. Every time you tried to intervene, he just squeezed your thigh under the table and gave you that look, the one that said relax, I’ve got this.

When your uncle finally leaned back and muttered, “Well… at least he makes decent eggs,” the whole table laughed, and you realized it wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought.

Later, when everyone dispersed to the pool, you and Lando curled up in a lounge chair, half hidden by an umbrella. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” you muttered, poking his chest.

“I just like watching you squirm.” He smirked, kissing your temple. “Besides, your uncle’s face was priceless.”

It's that time of the year again. Prep for the season, which means on a freezing day, they've gone to a university and Lando is going to be pushed to his limit and beyond for the whole day.

No surprise, it's his least favourite day. Jon even knows that Lando begins to get colder and colder towards him with every ask throughout the day.

Y/n has attended as support for Lando since 2020 when they first started dating. They've since got married and this is y/n's first time being here as his wife rather than just his girlfriend or fiancé.

"You'll be fine." Y/n assures him as they get out the car and he sighs visibly grimacing just looking at the buildings awaiting them.

"I'm just glad you're here." Lando mumbles moving to hug her softly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

Y/n helps Lando get started with the vlog intro since he likes making vlogs of these sorts of things. Even if he only does the intro and outro.

The day actually starts off pretty easy so y/n's presence is just there to motivate and cheer him on. Which does earn some smiles and grinning from the McLaren driver.

But eventually they hit the point of the day where it starts to wear on him and the small breaks between each test he uses to clean up a little and just move to y/n who gives him little pep talks and some promises that give him some good motivation.

"I fucking hate this." Lando breathes earning a small nod.

It's when Jon gets Lando out on the track outside that he tells Lando the instructions and Lando definitely looks at Jon with a glint of hate behind his eyes. Thankfully Jon knows it's not real hate and it's not personal towards him. He'd hate anyone who was telling him that he has to run till he's struggling.

"You can do it baby. It's one time. Only once and I know you can do it." Y/n states encouragingly gently drumming on his back.

Jon shoots y/n a silent thank you from behind Lando while she smiles and then they hook Lando up with the gear he needs to wear before he takes off.

Y/n watches Lando do as he was told, running and looking like he's in pain but he goes until he can't and then he just lies down on the rough track surface while she moves towards him and sits down beside him, a bottle of water at the ready for when he's caught his breath.

"Better or worse than you thought?" Y/n asks making Lando's closed eyes flick over her.

"Worse. Much worse." Lando breathes still panting at her before he sits up looking at her with lazy eyes that are definitely begging for bed and sleep.

"You're doing amazing today. I'm so proud of you baby." Y/n smiles making Lando sigh at her before she unscrews the lid from the bottle and offering it over to him. "You look sexy when you're all sweaty and look like you hate the world."

"I'd say something to take advantage of that. But I think I'm going to be so spent at the end of the day, my dick can't even find it in him to get up." Lando states making y/n laugh a little.

"That's alright, I'll take care of you in some other ways. Whatever you want."

"I don't know how I'd get through this stuff without you...I don't know how I survived doing this stuff without you before we met." Lando mumbles leaning his head forward onto her shoulder with a groan.

"You'll never have to do it without me again so don't even think about it. But you do need to drink and then I think Jon wants us to start making a move for the next thing." Y/n states earning a groan.

"That is the best thing I could ever hear."

Admittedly with qualifying having such a chokehold on who wins the race, it really feels like Lando's chances at a win just aren't as high as they'd hoped.

"You look nervous." Lando comments seeing his girlfriend as he walks into his driver's room after the driver's parade.

"I'm always nervous before a race-especially a wet race." Y/n mumbles shaking her head. "Not that I have my doubts about your abilities. I think Australia proved you're more than capable of handling that. But other people aren't always as great."

"I'll be as careful as possible." Lando promises leaning over and kissing her. "See you from the top step."

Y/n smiles before watching Lando take off and there's every fibre of her that feels guilt for doubting him and that now feels a new certainty that Lando is going to make this win happen no matter water.

After gathering herself and spending a good 10 minutes scolding herself for being a bad girlfriend for doubting him. Y/n moves to find the rest of his family settling with his sisters and mum.

Eventually the race starts and initially Lando is dropping back from both Oscar and Max. Which makes the chances of a win feel even less likely. Y/n could feel sick with the memories of last year's race slipping away from him.

Cisca hold's her "future daughter-in-law's"(at least that's how Lando's parents refer to her while waiting for him to propose) hand. They watch as the rookies are picked off and they watch as Max dodges Oscar when he brakes suddenly then Max spins and drops down the order leaving Lando in P2 and pretty close behind Oscar.

Then the penalty comes in and while it's harsh, it also means that so long as Lando stays close, he doesn't really need to fight on track for the position.

Y/n does have a thought about how Lando's haters will react to this but ultimately Lando didn't put a foot wrong, he didn't make any errors, he drove as a winner should and it's that simple. There is a slightly bitter taste in y/n's mouth over hearing Oscar's radio request for a position swap but she swallows that back knowing the team would never do it. Or at least hoping they realise how cruel and unfair it would be.

After the pitstops and the penalty is served, Lando is ahead and maintains the gap from Oscar. It does waver from growing to closing but Lando ends the race with a 7 second gap on Oscar and the joy of the team is electric.

Obviously Oscar's side is a little less enthused because he didn't win due to a harsh penalty, but ultimately they didn't dispute it either which suggests maybe it wasn't as harsh as it feels. Y/n isn't an expert so all she does is focus on Lando is is basking in the glory of his win with a slow in-lap.

Y/n also realises that Lewis never caught Nico. Meaning Nico, after 15 years and over 200 races without a podium in his career finally has made it to the steps. He's up there with the two championship leaders. And he can say he did it beating a 7 time world champion on his home ground where he's meant to be so incredible that essentially Lewis should be able to win in the worst car on the grid, especially in wet conditions. But Nico beat him, maybe that says something about how overlooked the German has been in his career.

It takes a while for y/n to reach Lando but she joins Cisca and waits her turn after the mother and son have a moment before he clocks his girlfriend and hugs her tightly, allowing her to lift the visor since his helmet is yet to be removed.

"You are fucking incredible. So proud. You should be so impossibly proud of yourself right now. I love you. Now go enjoy your moment. We'll be watching." Y/n states earning a grin before he nods and moves to carry out procedure since no amount of home race winning glory allows for anything other than ticking the boxes first.

Eventually they are going up on the podium and y/n feels like for once the universe did the right thing. It was generous for Lando today and allowed him to have a race where he drove as well as she knows he can and take the top step because he didn't do a single thing wrong.

She can tell how much this means to him, how he wishes he could slow time down to prolong this moment as long as humanly possibly and live in it for longer than it's happening. Y/n can tell he doesn't want this podium to end.

He's handed the trophies and given his medal, that y/n will be trusted with, before having a bit of a struggling with the champagne. Admittedly it's obvious that Oscar isn't having the same feeling on the podium as Lando is but it will be something for him to overcome and with a break due, he'll use it to reset no doubt.

With media following and then team celebrations, y/n is just waiting for her boyfriend to actually get an opportunity to catch his breath.

They still have to debrief when Lando finally gets back into the McLaren unit. And knowing y/n is going to be having a late night of celebrations, especially with the break meaning that no consideration of next weekend or travelling has to be considered. She decides to take a nap with Cisca allowing y/n to rest of her head on her lap while they wait.

"I'm starting to think you only like me for y/n." Lando comments as he eventually is finished for the day which ended up including going out and managing to earn another facial injury and doing a shoey on stage for fans in celebration.

"That's not the only reason I like you." Cisca states with a gleaming smile, teasing her second son but not being able to wipe the pride over his win off of her face.

Lando hums moving slightly towards y/n with a smile as he crouches and gently rubs her side.

"Y/n, baby...we need to get moving. All done for the day." Lando whispers making y/n stir, eyes scrunching up before she peeks her eye open then a blinding grin takes over her face, quickly wiping the tiredness from her expression. "Ready to celebrate?"