#ln04

Lando had been quiet all morning. It wasn’t unusual - race weekends often wound him up in a way that made him retreat into himself - but this time, the silence felt heavier. You set down your coffee and leaned against the hotel desk, watching him tug at the brim of his cap for the fifth time.

"Okay," you said softly, "spill. You’re worrying holes in that poor hat."

He glanced up, sheepish. "I’m not."

"You are," you countered, crossing your arms. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

He hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. "It’s just… today’s a big deal. Bringing you into the paddock. People are going to take photos, write things, say things. It won’t just be about me anymore, it’ll be about us. About you. And I don’t want you to… I dunno, feel overwhelmed. Or worse, regret it."

Your heart softened. He looked more like the boy who sent you silly voice notes when he couldn’t sleep than the polished driver the world knew.

"Lando," you said gently, crossing the room to sit beside him. "I knew what I was signing up for the second I agreed to date a Formula One driver. I also know I’m not here for the headlines. I’m here for you. If people say things... let them. It doesn’t change what we have."

He studied you for a long moment, then shook his head with a small laugh. "How did I get so lucky?"

"You ordered a latte at the same café as me," you teased. "The rest is history."

That earned a real smile. He leaned in, kissing your temple. "Just… promise me you’ll tell me if it ever feels like too much."

"I promise," you whispered, threading your fingers through his.

THE WEEKEND - THE PADDOCK

Walking in was like stepping into another world. Cameras clicked the second Lando’s hand slid into yours, flashes bouncing off sunglasses and glossy hospitality units. You could hear your name already, even though you hadn’t officially been introduced.

Lando squeezed your hand tighter. “You okay?”

"I’m fine," you murmured back, smiling as if the chaos didn’t faze you. "Breathe, Lando. They’re more interested in you than me."

"Doubt it," he muttered, but you just laughed, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Inside McLaren hospitality, things felt easier. The staff greeted you warmly, and soon you found yourself chatting with a couple of the other drivers’ girlfriends. They were welcoming in a way you hadn’t expected - complimenting your outfit, asking about your studies, making you feel like you belonged.

"You’re studying to be a Primary School teacher?" Kika asked, eyes wide. "That’s so sweet."

You smiled, a little shy. "Yeah. Kids are exhausting but in the best way. They keep you honest."

Later, as you sat watching the race, you couldn’t help but notice the way fans pointed at you on the screen, smiling and taking pictures. For once, the online chatter wasn’t cruel - it was excited.

After the checkered flag and media where he of course got questioned about Magui and you, Lando came bounding into the hospitality unit, sweaty and flushed. He didn’t care about the cameras still hanging around - he went straight to you, grabbing your hand and tugging you close.

"Let me shower and get ready, then we will leave. I know you have work tomorrow."

After he got ready, hand in hand, you walked back through the paddock. Cameras flashed, fans screamed, but all you noticed was how he held onto you like he wasn’t going to let go.

THE FLIGHT HOME

Hours later, the hum of the jet filled the silence. You were curled up next to him under a blanket, watching the lights of the city fade below. Lando had been staring out the window for ages, unusually quiet.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you asked softly.

He turned to you, his expression serious. "I just keep thinking… did I do the right thing? Bringing you this weekend?"

Your brow furrowed. "Of course you did. Why would you even ask that?"

"Because I’ve been through this before," he admitted. "The headlines, the judgment, the constant speculation. I’ve seen how ugly it gets. And I can take it, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re under a microscope just because you’re with me. You don’t deserve that."

You reached for his hand, tracing lazy circles over his skin. "Lando, listen to me. I don’t care what the papers write or what random people on the internet think. I’m not dating ‘Lando Norris, Formula One driver.’ I’m dating you... the guy who triple-checks the hotel mini fridge for kinder maxi's, who falls asleep halfway through movies, who FaceTimes me from airports just to show me what snack he bought. That’s who I care about."

He blinked, throat working. "You really mean that?"

"Every word," you said firmly. "And I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

His shoulders relaxed, the tension finally slipping away. "God, I love you," he blurted, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Your lips parted in surprise - but then you smiled, leaning in close. "Good. Because I love you too."

The world could spin its headlines and the fans could tweet their theories. None of it mattered. Up here, above the clouds, it was just you and him - and that was more than enough.

liked by oscarpiastri, lily.zneimer, kikagomes, and 9 others

yourSPAM : maybe i'm overdosing on copium but ever since i left that awful law firm i've been so free. i started filming some yt vids about different cases i love, got a new job... and have finally had time to work out (thank u kika).

kikagomes: ofc bby! i'm always glad to hear you rant

⎯→ yourspam: i would die without u

oscarpiastri: New job??? Already???

⎯→ yourSPAM: I got hoes on speed-dialllll 😝

⎯→ yourSPAM: lol jkkkkk

lily.zneimer: You're so beautiful :( I'm so happy for you!

⎯→ yourSPAM: come kiss me then

⎯→ oscarpiastr: get OUT.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 8,237,094 others

f1.news : BREAKING!!! After weeks of media drama, lawyer (Y/N) (L/N) has officially joined McLaren’s legal & PR team as Lando Norris’ personal PR counsel. Sources say she’ll be handling everything from media statements to crisis control for the driver known for getting himself into just a little trouble off-track.

user 99: YESSS SHE'S HERE TO STAYYYY

⎯→ user 02: i knew you would be excited

⎯→ user 99: omgggg ur thinkinnn of meeee?

user 12: OMG I heard she's getting a shit ton of sponsors too so this is perf

⎯→ user 04: she's gonna be RICH RICCHHHHH

user 82: I so happy we get to see her more, she's so beautiful and funny

⎯→ user 21: holyyyy glaze

⎯→ user 99: ur bio literally says "spread kindness to all"

user 05: guys.... ik she would hate this but..... y/n x lando...?

Three days after surgery, the swelling had gone down enough for the doctors to finally place a proper cast on her leg. Lando had barely left the hospital. He’d only gone home once—to shower, grab clean clothes, and pick up her favorite hoodie (one of his quadrant hoodies, actually; she stole it two years ago before it was even released and never gave it back).

She was quiet, more than usual. Not in pain—at least not physically anymore—but in her spirit. She didn’t ask about her bike. Didn’t ask when she’d ride again.

That worried him more than the X-rays ever could.

Week 2 – Home, but Hurting

“Careful,” Lando muttered, arms under her as he helped her down onto the couch. She winced as her casted leg brushed the cushion.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“You’re not fine,” he said. “You broke your tibia. There’s literally a metal rod in your leg now.”

“I don’t need reminding.”

He sat beside her, rubbing the back of his neck. There was silence for a while, broken only by the quiet hum of the telly in the background.

Then: “I scared you,” she whispered.

He turned to her. “What?”

“I know I did. You looked... different. At the hospital.”

Lando’s throat tightened. “Yeah. You did scare me. But not because of the injury.”

“Then why?”

“Because you weren’t you. You didn’t smile. You didn’t joke. You didn’t say ‘told you I’d send it off that ramp.’ That’s how I knew you weren’t okay.”

She looked down at her lap. “What if I can’t ride again?”

Lando reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, gently. “Then we’ll figure it out. But you can. You just... need time. You’re strong. Stronger than I ever was at your age.”

She looked up at him, eyes wet. “Promise?”

He nodded. “On every race I’ve ever driven.”

Week 5 – Progress and Pushback

They started physical therapy at a small clinic outside of town. Lando insisted on driving her every time. He’d sit in the waiting room, coffee in hand, reading notes from the McLaren team, but his attention always drifted to the sound of her voice echoing down the hall.

Some days she made jokes and would not shut up to save her life. Other days she cried in the car, or just completely shut down. He never rushed her. Never forced her to try explain something he could never fully understand or forced her to just “tough it out.” He just listened and waited, the supportive silent which made evrything hurt just a little bit less.

And one day, on the way home, she surprised him.

“Can we go see the track this weekend?”

He nearly missed the turn, but he agreed, feeling the need to give her everything she wanted and more, and incredibly proud of her progress.

Week 7 – Back Where It Happened

They pulled into the gravel lot on a Saturday morning, sun low, the track still damp with dew. Her crutches sunk slightly in the soft dirt as she limped to the fence.

Lando followed silently.

Her eyes scanned the course. The ramp still stood where she’d flown. Fallen. Broken.

“It doesn’t look so scary now,” she said.

“Because you faced it.”

“Not on the bike.”

“No,” Lando said softly. “But in here.” He tapped her chest. “That’s where the real crash happened. And that’s where the healing starts too.”

She didn’t reply, but her hand slipped into his, and she felt so much lighter, as if visiting the track gave her the closure she needed so badly.

Week 10 – Small Steps, Big Dreams

Lando had a surprise waiting in the garage. A stationary training bike—modded with softer suspension, full safety harness, and VR goggles linked to old GoPro footage of her favorite trails.

Her jaw dropped.

“You built this?”

He shrugged. “Had some help. McLaren engineers like side projects.”

She laughed for the first time in weeks. “You’re such a nerd.”

“Dad nerd,” he corrected, grinning.

And that afternoon, as she rode slowly, leaning softer than usual, legs trembling, Lando sat nearby with a stopwatch and a tear in his eye.

She wasn’t just riding and building strength again. She was rising.

Epilogue – Months Later

Six months to the day after her fall, she stood at the start gate of a small local event. Just an exhibition lap. No jumps. No pressure.

Lando was right beside her, adjusting her gloves, checking the straps on her boots like he always used to when she was little.

“You sure about this?” he asked, eyes searching hers.

She smiled, fearless this time. “Yeah. I’ve got my dad in my corner.”

She revved the engine. He stepped back. The gate dropped.

And as she took off, dust rising behind her like a storm, Lando didn’t see a broken girl. He saw his daughter—whole, brave, and flying again.

Please to not copy or Translate without permission x

You waited a few minutes to shift, murmuring a soft ‘good morning, baby’ as Lando tightened his hold around you. He grunts something back in response, eyes still heavy from sleep. You peppered kisses over his neck, eliciting a soft sound from Lando, your hands tracing down his warm body, making the Brit squirm. “Your hands are cold,” He sighed, relishing in your kisses. “Happy birthday, Lan,” You whispered into his skin. 

Lando smiles at the low congratulations, murmuring a ’thank you’ before pulling you closer, turning you both over, and having you sit on his lap. Lando sighed with contentment, watching you with adoring eyes. Hair messy and his t-shirt resting over your frame, it’s better than anything he could have asked for. 

Your hands now run down his bare chest, touching and feeling the skin you had access to at any time of the day, Lando’s wolfish smile beaming up at you as his hands rested on your hips, sliding under your sleeping shirt and tracing over your panties. “Look at you,” He hummed, shifting your hips so that you moved over his morning wood, making both of you groan out in pleasure. Lando entertains the idea of sinking into you and sleeping through the rest of the morning, meeting up with his parents later, but you have something else planned. 

You slide down his lap and settle between his legs, planting your hands on his thighs as you gaze up at him. “Wanted to give my sweet boy something special on his birthday morning,” Lando’s dazed expression makes you giggle, his fingers gripping onto the meat on your hips. 

Lando takes a deep breath when he feels your lips around the tip of his cock, your hands having pulled his boxers down. He leaned his head back on the pillows, getting comfortable while fighting back the urge to buck his hips into your mouth. 

Morning head on his birthday sounded heavenly, it was more than he could have asked for. Lando doesn’t last long, quickly finishing in your mouth and pulling you back up to him for a kiss. 

You managed to begrudgingly get Lando out of bed, still lazy from his first birthday treat. There were a few moments when Lando realized he was turning 25, a very real, very adult age. While avoiding a midlife crisis, you got him to get ready so you could go visit his family, who had landed in Monaco last night so they could celebrate Lando’s birthday. 

Everything was perfect, all the people he loved gathered around for a nice brunch. His parents, brother and sisters, friends, cousins, grandparents, and you, the person he most loved. 

He laughed and had the best of time, getting a small cake so the people he loves can celebrate him, and even now at 25 he still doesn’t know where to look when they’re singing happy birthday to him. So he settles to look at you. 

Later into the day you and Lando had decided to go out clubbing with a few friends for some more adult fun, a few of the drivers from the grid coming out to wish him a nice one. 

Lando’s tipsy and he’s happy, happier than he’s been in a while. He gets to hold you and kiss you, be celebrated by you, and just have a good day. So when you both come back stumbling into your apartment, tipsy and gleeful, Lando is insatiable. Ever since you both grabbed a cab back home he’s been all over you, whispering dirty promises and sweet nothings into your ears. 

You’re hungry when you walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water, Lando whining for you to come to bed, wanting to have you undressed. “Baby, come on,” He sighs, bent over and leaning on the kitchen island, gazing at you. “Hold on, birthday boy, I’m hungry.” When you open the door to the fridge nothing looks too appetizing except for Lando’s birthday cake. 

When Lando watches you stab a fork into his birthday cake, he smiles softly, walking towards you so he can settle his hands on your hips. “Gimme some,” He murmurs as he pulls you closer by your hips. You fork into the cake and stab him a piece, feeding it to him with a smile. Lando hums at the fluffy and sweet taste, the buttercream frosting melting across his tongue. “Come here,” He whispers, lifting you so you sit kitchen island. Your eyes gaze into his, dragging down his body, admiring the chain that hangs low on his chest, the few buttons he left open on his dress shirt taunting her to take it all off. 

Lando’s lips quickly press against your neck, mouthing over the heated skin, licking and biting gently. A soft moan escapes your lips as Lando spreads your legs apart, settling himself between them. “Lemme have another bite,” Lando then whispers against your lips. Lando’s hands rest on the top of your thighs, waiting expectantly with a dazed smile. 

You both share a few more bites of cake before the Brit decides he wants to eat something else. Slow, deliberate kisses are pressed down your chest, your party dress having been pushed down earlier. When he reaches the heat of your core he practically moans, hungry for more. 

Your hands run down the nape of his neck, coming back up to play with his curls when he pulls your panties down, pressing his nose against your core and smirking, littering kisses over your inner thigh before practically making out with your cunt. 

“Taste so good,” Lando moans, your hips bucking up against his mouth, whimpers falling from your lips with ease. Lando hums and nips gently against your clit, making you jolt and hit him swiftly in the back of his head, causing a laugh from the man between your legs. 

Lando eats you out like a man starved, whining and thrusting into the air as he looks up at you, eyes hooded and nose pressed against your bundle of nerves. Your body felt like it was on constant overdrive, a wave of hot and cold washing over you. 

“Oh, fuck, Lan,” You moan out, the sound resounding a bit in the fairly quiet apartment, the only other sound being the squelch between your legs, Lando’s tongue doing wonders for your pleasure. “H-hey, I should be the one pleasing you,” You chuckle breathlessly, cheeks flushed and feeling a beginning coil in your stomach. 

“This is a pleasure to me,” Lando mumbles against your pussy, pulling back to lick his lips and dip two fingers, making your mouth open in a loud moan. “That’s it, pretty girl, I know you’re close,” He smirks, knees starting to ache from kneeling on them. 

With one hand in his curls and the other one gripping the edge of the kitchen island, your hips buck up onto Lando’s digits, your bottom lip trembling when he blows air against your core. “Please, please, lemme cum, Lan, feels so good,” You plead, eyes staring down into pretty green eyes, his smile widening as you beg.

“Come on, baby, cum on my fingers,” Lando says, lips quickly going back to suck on your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your runny cunt, his soft chuckles sending shockwaves throughout your body.

When pleasure overcomes you, a delicious coil unwinding in your stomach, Lando licks up into your pussy, relishing in the slick and cleaning you up. 

Lando stands up from between your legs and licks his fingers, crashing his lips into yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet,” He murmurs against your lips, one of his hands coming up to swipe at his birthday cake, finger dipping into the frosting before he presses the digits against your bottom lip, prompting you to suck the yummy buttercream off. 

“And that’s even sweeter,” Lando cheekily adds, a small giggle escaping him once you roll your eyes at him. 

Now as the night ends and you’re both in the bathtub, soaking in the bubbles, Lando realizes that this is all he could have ever wanted. Sure, the presents and the company were nice, but all he wanted was you, and his wishes were granted. 

The Brit relaxes against your chest, freshly cut mullet damp and sticking to the nape of his neck, his eyes closed as your hands rested over his stomach under the water. “I love you,” Lando says, “Thank you for today, it’s been really nice.” He smiled to himself, knowing that this would be one of the many memorable birthdays he had. “I love you too, baby,” You whisper back to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Happy birthday, Lando.”