#ln1

The Quadrant studio is buzzing in that familiar, chaotic way — lights half‑set up, someone’s left a half‑eaten packet of crisps on the main table, and Max Fewtrell is already narrating everything like he’s David Attenborough observing a rare species.

“Here we have,” Max says dramatically, pointing the camera at you as you walk in, “the long‑suffering girlfriend of Lando Norris. She has survived years of his nonsense. Truly, a national treasure.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Morning to you too, Max.”

Lando pops his head out from behind a lighting rig, curls messy, hoodie half‑zipped, grin bright enough to power the entire set. “Hi, love.”

He crosses the room in three long strides and wraps his arms around you, lifting you slightly off the ground. He smells like his usual mix of cologne and whatever shampoo he stole from you this week.

“You ready to lose?” he murmurs into your hair.

“You’re adorable,” you say, patting his cheek, “but you’re absolutely going to embarrass yourself today.”

Max gasps loudly. “Conflict. Drama. Romance. This is better than Netflix.”

---

🎬 THE SETUP

The Quadrant crew finally gets everything in place — two chairs, a small table with whiteboards and markers, and a camera pointed directly at you and Lando. Max insists on being the off‑screen host, which everyone agrees to mostly because it’s easier than arguing.

Lando pulls your chair closer to his, knees bumping yours. He’s already smiling at you like he’s forgotten the rest of the world exists.

“Stop looking at her like that,” Max groans. “We get it. You’re in love. Disgusting.”

Lando flips him off without breaking eye contact with you.

The camera starts rolling.

---

🎥 TAKE ONE

“Welcome back to Quadrant,” Max announces in his best presenter voice. “Today we have Lando Norris and his childhood sweetheart, the only person who’s known him longer than his hairdresser.”

Lando snorts. “That’s not true.”

“Is it not?” Max asks. “Because I’ve seen the photos. The bowl cut era was dark.”

You laugh, leaning into Lando’s shoulder. “I was there for that.”

“Trauma bonding,” Max says. “Beautiful.”

Lando squeezes your hand under the table. “Okay, first question,” he says, trying to take control. “Let’s go.”

Max clears his throat. “What is your partner’s go‑to comfort food?”

You immediately start writing. Lando stares at his blank board like it’s a complex physics equation.

“Don’t overthink it,” you tease.

“I’m not,” he lies.

Max leans over his shoulder. “He’s absolutely overthinking it.”

You finish your answer and hold your board close to your chest. Lando finally scribbles something down.

“Three, two, one — reveal!”

You flip your boards.

You: Pasta. Always pasta.

Lando: Her mum’s pasta.

Your heart does a little flip.

“Aww,” Max says. “That’s actually cute. Gross, but cute.”

Lando beams. “See? I know things.”

“You know one thing,” you correct.

He nudges your knee with his. “It’s the important thing.”

---

🎥 TAKE TWO — THE CHAOS BEGINS

Max reads the next question. “What is your partner’s biggest fear?”

Lando immediately writes something down, smirking.

You narrow your eyes. “If you write something stupid—”

“I would never,” he says, which is the biggest lie he’s ever told.

You write your answer carefully. Lando finishes his in two seconds and sits back, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Reveal!”

You flip your boards.

You: Losing the people I love.

Lando: Spiders. And Max’s cooking.

Max gasps. “My cooking is incredible.”

“Your cooking is a war crime,” Lando says.

You elbow him. “I meant emotionally.”

Lando’s expression softens instantly. He reaches over, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Yeah. I know. I just… didn’t want to make it heavy.”

You smile at him, and he smiles back, and Max groans loudly.

“Can you two stop having a moment? This is a YouTube video, not a wedding.”

---

🎥 TAKE THREE — THE CHILDHOOD SWEETHEART ROUND

Max grins like he’s been waiting for this. “Since you two have known each other since you were tiny, let’s test your memory. What was your first impression of each other?”

You laugh. “Oh no.”

Lando’s already writing, shaking his head.

You write yours slowly, remembering the moment — the awkward, shy, adorable little boy with messy hair and big dreams.

“Reveal!”

You flip your boards.

You: Thought he was cute but painfully shy.

Lando: Thought she was way too pretty to ever talk to me.

Your breath catches. “Lan…”

He shrugs, cheeks pink. “It’s true.”

Max clutches his chest. “I’m going to be sick.”

Lando ignores him completely. “I remember it so clearly. You were wearing that little blue jumper and you smiled at me and I swear I forgot how to speak.”

“You still forget how to speak,” Max mutters.

Lando throws a marker at him.

---

🎥 TAKE FOUR — THE SPICY ROUND

Max wiggles his eyebrows. “What is your partner’s most annoying habit?”

Lando immediately points at you. “She steals my hoodies.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You literally give them to me.”

“That’s not the point.”

You write your answer, biting back a smile.

“Reveal!”

You: He leaves wet towels everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

Lando: She steals my hoodies.

Max bursts out laughing. “Domestic life with Lando Norris. Riveting.”

Lando groans. “Okay, fine, I leave towels around. But you look cute in my hoodies.”

You grin. “So you admit it.”

“I admit nothing.”

---

🎥 TAKE FIVE — THE HEART MELTER

Max clears his throat dramatically. “Last question. What is the moment you knew you were in love?”

Lando freezes.

You freeze.

The room goes quiet.

You start writing slowly, heart thudding. Lando stares at his board for a long moment before writing something down with surprising seriousness.

“Reveal,” Max says softly.

You flip your boards.

You: When he held my hand at his first karting race because he was nervous.

Lando: When she held my hand at my first karting race because I was nervous.

You blink.

He blinks.

Max whispers, “Oh my god.”

Lando reaches for your hand across the table. “I didn’t think you remembered that.”

“Of course I remember,” you say, voice soft. “You were shaking.”

“You squeezed my hand,” he says. “And I thought… if she’s here, I’ll be okay.”

Your eyes sting a little.

Max fans himself dramatically. “This is too much. I’m going to combust.”

Lando leans over and kisses your cheek, lingering there for a moment. “I love you,” he murmurs, quiet enough that only you hear it.

You squeeze his hand. “I love you too.”

---

🎬 AFTER THE CAMERAS STOP

The moment the camera cuts, Max throws himself onto the table.

“You two are unbearable,” he groans. “I’m editing this and I’m adding clown music over every romantic moment.”

Lando flips him off again. “Do that and I’ll replace all your voiceovers with a kazoo.”

You laugh, standing up and stretching. Lando immediately wraps his arms around your waist from behind, chin on your shoulder.

“You were amazing,” he says softly.

“You were adorable.”

He kisses your cheek again. “We should do more videos together.”

Max groans. “Absolutely not.”

Lando ignores him. “Maybe a cooking challenge.”

“You’d lose,” you say.

He gasps. “Rude.”

“True,” Max adds.

Lando throws another marker at him.

---

🎥 THE FINAL MOMENT

As you’re packing up, Lando grabs your hand and pulls you back toward him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Thanks for doing this with me.”

You smile. “Anytime.”

He leans in, kissing you properly this time — slow, warm, familiar. The kind of kiss that feels like home.

Max walks by, covering his eyes. “I’m blind. I’m actually blind.”

Lando breaks the kiss just long enough to shout, “Shut up, Max!”

Then he kisses you again.

Lando is big on protection when it comes to sex. But it's y/n who insisted on condoms and he thought it would just be till she was comfortable, but somehow 2 months into daily sex, usually more than once a day. Lando's putting more money into condoms than anything else right now.

He can't help but want to remove that barrier.

He wants to feel her, he wants nothing between them and while it's never mattered to him before. For some reason the thought of filling her with his cum and watch it leak out of her.

That thought unlocks some sort of feral animal in him that's been dormant.

He can't help it.

And now he's rolling yet another condom down his length, lust-filled eyes gliding over to y/n where she's lying, swollen lips, hickeys across her chest. He's already got her in a heat.

Admittedly teasing her the whole dinner and whispering filth in her ear at every opportunity got her exactly as riled up as he was aiming for.

"Ready for me baby?" Lando asks already knowing the answer, he can see her dripping in a wet patch on the sheets.

He loves when she gets too needy to form words that are anything less than begging. Her whimper and positioning herself from kneeling on her knees to dropping back onto her back with her legs spread, a true offering of herself open to him.

"Oh baby." Lando chuckles moving over her, not wasting time with anymore foreplay. He slides into her with only the tightness of him not having been inside her in the past 12 hours enveloping him as a form of making it harder to fuck her.

Their moans fill the air and Lando pulls her towards himself, his thrusts getting deeper and harder. Y/n moans and whines at him, his name reverbing off the walls before he whispers more filth into her ear. Promises of wrecking her, making her scream, leaving a permanent mark in her.

He builds himself up just as much as she does.

"Baby, I want to feel you. Properly." Lando states making her look at him, eyes already teary from the stimulation. "Fuck. Baby, I need to feel you. Let me take it off. It'll feel so good. So so good."

Y/n whines bucking her hips into his, one hand moving from gripping the sheets to his bicep and for a moment he thinks that's her stopping him from daring to take it off.

"Please. I wanna feel you." Y/n whimpers, nails cutting into his skin. Her actions betraying her words.

"You'll love this, baby." Lando promises, leaning down, kissing her neck as he slips out of her.

"Lando." Y/n huffs from the loss as he reaches down almost grimacing from the speed he pulls the condom off and tosses it aside without thought. He'll pick it up later.

He takes a couple heavy breaths, excitement of this moment making the air prickle with electricity that makes her breath hitch before he slides back into her, and while he's aware that it's more about what he feels that what she feels. But y/n shudders at the feeling.

Y/n can feel more of him, the veins, every ridge of his dick no longer smoothed by latex brushing through her walls making her moan, bearing down to try and feel more of him.

"Lando, please." Y/n moans writhing underneath him.

"Fuck. You feel incredible, baby. How have I waited this long?" Lando grunts not feeling like any word describes how y/n feels wrapped around him. "You were made for me. This pussy was made for me."

Y/n twitches around him, her orgasm nearing more.

"You going to let me fill you up, baby? Going to let me make you mine once and for all? No going back after this." Lando states since he's pretty sure hitting it raw is an addiction.

It's like heroin, one hit and he's already hooked on the feeling. He'll chase this high for the rest of his life and he'll keep getting his hits every time she lets him feel her pussy around him.

Y/n's orgasm hits with no more warning than that first twitch, she yanks him down onto her legs wrapping around him like she can't get enough of him. Lando spills into her without any control.

He actually gets dizzy feeling like he's never came so hard or so much in his life.

"Lando?" Y/n whispers making Lando blink a time. "Are you with me?"

"I think I might've died in your pussy and gone to heaven." Lando croaks then frowning. "Did I pass out?"

"Yeah...a bit." Y/n laughs then gently pushing back his sweaty head, her own face glittering with her. "I'll take it as a compliment...Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I think I might just put blood into you from how hard I came."

"That's ok." Y/n giggles before kissing him. "We can stay like this a bit longer."

"Baby, we can stay like this forever. I'll quit F1 for good if you let me live with you pussy like this around me."

"I think we might wither away and die if I do that. We have to eat...and I'll have to pee at some point-and so will you. Cumming inside is one thing, if you piss in me I'll chop your dick off." Y/n warns playfully, though he thinks that she'd fully follow through on it. Her giggling with his dick still inside her short circuits his head though and he has to hide his face in her neck, shuddering as pleasure ripples through him.

"Fuck, baby. Don't do that unless you really want to kill me." Lando groans rutting into her despite being soft at this point and feeling her leaking out around him. "I'm going to clean you up. I promise. Just give me a bit more time."

"Take as long as you need. I'm enjoying this."

"Good. Because I'm burning any condoms in the vicinity. Never fucking you any other way but raw from here forward." Lando declares earning a smile as y/n sucks in a breath and holds him close. "I think your pussy has just changed my life in a way I didn't know what possible."

"You're welcome. If I knew it'd be so easy I never would've have you wear a condom in the first place."

She would've but he's too spent to argue and now he's taken off the condom, he is just grateful they both enjoyed the experience. Though he might need to make sure he's ok. Passing out after sex might not be the best sign of something.

The comments under McLaren’s posts were flooding in, most of them riding the vegan joke. People were being incredibly creative, but you knew the team was not amused.

Two days later, they sent you in to scold him. Again. By now it was routine, they kept choosing you because you two had become something like friends, you were close in age, and they thought he’d actually listen to you. They repeated the talking points one more time and sent you in.

Lando was already there, sitting in the small meeting room, phone in hand. He looked like a kid who knew he was in trouble but was still a little proud of himself. When you walked in, he put the phone down.

“Hi, Lando,” you said, sitting down across from him.

“Hey,” he replied, giving you a small smile.

You kept your voice steady and professional, exactly as they’d instructed.

“Lando, we cannot allow you to be seen wearing a t-shirt with such a message. It’s inappropriate, it damages the team’s public image, and it puts our sponsors in a very uncomfortable position. We have a responsibility to maintain professionalism, especially when you’re easily recognizable...”

You actually managed to stay serious through most of it. Lando was biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to smile. But the longer you spoke, the more ridiculous the whole situation felt.

“So from now on, we need you to think more carefully about what you wear when you might be filmed and...”

A small snort escaped you.

You tried to hold it together, but it was too late. Lando broke first, laughing, and then you followed, both of you cracking up.

“Wait ... I broke character,” you said, still laughing as you covered your face for a second. “Why do they keep sending me? They know I find this stuff funny instead of actually scolding you properly. You need someone who’s going to shake some sense into you.”

You tried to pull yourself together. “But seriously, we can’t have this. People online might find it funny, but it’s not good for the sponsors. You can do whatever you want in your free time, but you have to be smarter about who you’re with and what you’re doing when cameras are around. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, still amused. “I’ll stop. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“That’s what you told me last time too,” you reminded him, half laughing, half serious. “I’m laughing with you, but I’m also serious. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully. Then his tone shifted a little. “You know… I saw some old photos on your Instagram. You looked like a real party animal back then.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What? Are you stalking my Instagram? And I still haven’t deleted those?”

“Oh come on,” he laughed. “I know you’re still a party girl at heart. It’s funny that you’re the one scolding me for having fun.”

“I’m not scolding you for having fun,” you said. “I’m scolding you because you got filmed wearing a t-shirt that says ‘eat pussy it’s vegan’. That’s not a good PR look, even if it’s funny.”

Lando leaned forward, smirking. “Come on… ‘eat pussy it’s vegan’? You have to admit it’s a good one.”

You shook your head, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, it’s bold. So… you’re actually a munch?”

The question came out more direct than you intended, but you’d always been pretty straightforward with him.

“Yeah,” he said seriously. “I am.”

You felt your ears getting warm. “From what I’ve seen online, girls go crazy over that. So you might lose some points with PR, but you probably gained a lot in your DMs.”

Lando held your gaze. “Do you like it too?”

Your heart skipped. “What?”

“A guy who’s a munch,” he clarified, voice lower.

You swallowed, suddenly a little shy. “What woman doesn’t?”

He smiled slowly. “If you want a demonstration, you can verify whenever you want.”

Was Lando Norris actually flirting with you? Of course he was, he flirted with everyone. Still, you knew what type of guy he was. You weren’t about to fall for it.

“No, thank you,” you said quickly.

“Oh come on,” he pushed gently. “I know deep down you’re a fun person. That’s why they always send you. We have the same humor. You get me, even when you have to deliver all the PR lines.”

“And what exactly do you want from me, Lando?”

“To go out with me. Have some actual fun. I know you’re bored of this PR shit too.”

“Are you insane?” you asked, half laughing, half shocked. “Do you want me to lose my job?”

He clocked you immediately. “You’re not saying no because you’re not interested. You’re saying no because of the job.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it.

Lando leaned in with that dangerous little grin. “How about you come to my driver’s room for a little demonstration of my ‘vegan era’?”

You stared at him, completely caught off guard. A nervous laugh escaped you.

“You’re actually serious right now?”

“Dead serious,” he said, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, heart racing. “Lando… this is insane. I can’t just...”

“You can,” he cut in softly. “No one has to know. Thirty minutes. Just us.”

You bit your lip, looking away for a second. Every logical part of your brain was screaming at you to shut this down immediately. This was your job. Your reputation. Your future at McLaren. But there was also this stupid, curious, tired-of-being-responsible part of you that was… tempted.

You let out a long breath and rubbed your temple.

“I’m going to regret this,” you muttered.

Lando’s smirk grew, but he stayed quiet, letting you think. You looked back at him, serious now.

“Fine. But only if you swear and I mean actually swear that you will not cause any PR mess for the rest of the season. No stupid shirts, no viral videos, no drama. Nothing. That’s my only condition. If you break this, I’m done. This never happens again and I stop covering for you.”

Lando didn’t hesitate. He extended his hand toward you, expression more sincere than usual.

“I swear. Best behavior until the end of the season. You have my word.”

You stared at his hand for a few long seconds, still fighting with yourself. Then, slowly, you reached out and shook it.

“Okay,” you said quietly, almost like you couldn’t believe what you were agreeing to. “Thirty minutes. You go first. I’ll come after.”

After you left the room, you told him you’d come by in thirty minutes. First you had to face the rest of the PR team.

“So?” your boss asked as soon as you walked in.

“He won’t cause any more PR issues. He learned his lesson and swore he’ll behave.”

“And we should believe him?” someone else asked.

“I think so. I was harder on him this time. Really tried to scare him a bit,” you said.

Your boss nodded. “Good. I knew sending you was the right call, you’re the only one he actually listens to. If he keeps his word and stays clean, I’ll put you up for a promotion and a raise. You’ve been doing excellent work.”

That was exactly the motivation you needed.

But now you had to figure out how to keep Lando in line for the rest of the season. Easier said than done.

More than thirty minutes passed while you finished talking with the team. You finally slipped away, heart racing. You felt like you were back in high school sneaking out, except this time you were sneaking in. You checked left, right, behind you, then quietly opened the door to his driver’s room and stepped inside.

Lando was waiting.

“You’re late,” he said, amused.

“I was busy lying to my boss about how well you took the scolding,” you muttered. “Listen, Lando, if you actually behave until the end of the season, they’re giving me a promotion. I’ve only been here two months. This is huge for me. So please… be on your best behavior. Let me have this.”

You kept talking, nervous and rambling, until Lando stepped forward. He gently pushed you backward onto the small sofa in his driver’s room, spreading your legs. The moment his palm pressed over your pants, right against your pussy, your words died in your throat.

You were already getting wet. He could feel it.

Lando smirked at your reaction, he’d liked you from the first day.

He worked your jeans down slowly, leaving you in just your panties and team kit top. His eyes raked over you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmured.

“What are you doing?” you breathed.

“A demonstration,” he said, teasing your pussy over the thin fabric with his fingers until your hips jerked against his hand.

He got tired of the teasing, hooked your panties to the side, then pulled them off completely. He spread your legs wide, staring.

“What a pretty pussy,” he whispered, voice rough. “Looks delicious.”

“Is it vegan?” you managed to tease, voice shaky.

“We’ll have to try it and find out.”

He lowered his head. You felt his hot breath on your clit first, then his tongue : slow, warm, and devastating. He licked a long stripe up your folds before focusing on your clit, sucking it between his lips and flicking his tongue.

You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. The walls were thin.

Lando ate you like you were his last meal. He wasn’t lying. He worked your clit with perfect pressure, sliding two thick fingers inside you, curling them against that spot that made your vision blur. Your thighs shook around his head as the first orgasm crashed over you hard. You came on his tongue, biting your palm to muffle the moan.

He didn’t stop.

Even as you twitched from oversensitivity, he kept licking and fingering you slower, deeper, until a second, even stronger orgasm ripped through you. By the time he finally pulled back, you were trembling and boneless on the sofa.

Lando wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking incredibly satisfied. Your pussy was still pulsing. He gave it a light, playful slap that made you jolt, then grabbed the towel he’d wisely placed earlier and some tissues. He cleaned you up slowly and gently, careful because you were so sensitive, then leaned in and kissed your hair.

“So?” you asked breathlessly. “Was it vegan?”

“Hell yeah,” he grinned. “But I’ll need to try it again to be completely sure.”

You laughed weakly. “That was a one-time thing, Norris…But if you actually stay good until the end of the season like you promised, I might let you do it again.”

The 2021 stream is infamous.

Lando, barely legal and full of chaos, spills Max Fewtrell's biggest secret like it's nothing. "Max have a girlfriend." Just drops it. Live. To thousands of people.

Max's relationship was three months old. Private. Fragile. Something he actually cared about.

And Lando just told everyone.

Max didn't speak to him for a week. When he finally did, his voice was calm. Too calm.

"I'm not going to get mad," Max said.

"Good," Lando replied, already relaxing.

"I'm going to wait."

"...Wait for what?"

Max smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "For you to fall in love. And then I'm going to do exactly what you did to me."

Lando laughed. "Never happening. I don't do relationships."

Max just nodded. "We'll see."

Four years pass.

Lando does what Lando does: races cars, streams games, dodges commitment like it's a torpedo. He's convinced he's untouchable. Too smart for love. Too busy for feelings.

Then he meets you.

It's at a mutual friend's party. You're not famous. You don't care about his job beyond being happy for him. You make fun of his haircut within the first thirty seconds.

He's hooked immediately.

"You're different," he tells you on the second date.

"That's what they all say," you reply, stealing a fry off his plate.

"No, I mean it. I don't—I don't usually do this."

"Do what? Eat fries?"

"Feel things," he admits, then looks horrified at his own honesty.

You laugh. It's not mean. It's warm. Real. "That's terrifying for you, isn't it?"

"Yes," he says. "Absolutely terrifying."

You're together by the end of the month.

Lando had never been so happy and nervous at the same time. It had been so long since Lando had been so excited about a relationship.

The apartment is dark except for the glow of two monitors. It’s late—or early, depending on your relationship with sleep—and Lando is streaming. Just a chill one. No agenda. Definitely not because you’re in the next room, wrapped in his hoodie, reading a book on his bed.

He told you to stay quiet. “Just for a bit, baby. I’ll be done in an hour.”

You rolled your eyes but kissed his cheek anyway. You’ve been together for eight months. Private by necessity, but soft in ways that make his chest ache. No one knows. Not the fans. Not the press. Not even most of his friends.

Max Fewtrell knows.

Max has known since week two, when Lando showed up at his flat at midnight, drunk on something stronger than confidence, rambling about "this girl, Max, she’s different, I swear to god.”

Max listened. Max nodded. And then Max smiled—slow, terrible, beautiful—and said, “So. A girlfriend, then?”

Lando had gone pale. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

But Max kept the secret. For months. Lando almost started to trust him again.

Foolish, really.

Until Friday arrived and with it a streaming of Lando.

The stream is going fine. Lando is racing, cracking jokes, dodging questions about his love life with the practiced ease of a man who has lied to the entire internet for fun and profit.

But then he hears it.

A soft thud from the bedroom. Then your voice, sleepy and sweet: “Lan? Where’d you put my phone charger?”

Lando’s soul leaves his body.

His hands hover over his keyboard. His eyes go wide. The chat, sensing blood, accelerates into chaos.

WHO WAS THAT

LANDO???

GIRL?? IN THE BACKGROUND???

HELLO???

“No one,” Lando says, too fast. “That was—that was my—my Alexa. My Alexa sounds weird. British update.”

The chat is not buying it.

ALEXA SAID ‘LAN’

ALEXA DOES NOT HAVE A BEDROOM

LANDO NORRIS YOU ARE LYING

He’s about to fumble his way through another terrible excuse when his phone buzzes.

Max Fewtrell: is that her?

Max Fewtrell: is that the girlfriend?

Max Fewtrell: lando i swear to god if you don’t invite me to this stream right now.

Lando types back frantically: max don’t you dare

A second later, a notification pops up.

maxfewtrell has joined the stream.

“No,” Lando whispers. “No, no, no.”

Max’s face appears on screen. He looks like Christmas came early. His grin is so wide it’s almost obscene.

“Evening, chat,” Max says smoothly. “Lando. Mate. Sounded like you had a visitor.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Because chat says they heard a girl call you ‘Lan.’” Max leans back, arms crossed, the picture of smug patience. “Want to explain that?”

Lando is sweating. Actually sweating. “It was—my sister.”

“Your sister calls you ‘Lan’?”

“Sometimes.”

“At 1 AM?”

“She’s… an insomniac.”

Max hums. He pulls out his phone, scrolls for a second, then looks directly into the camera with the energy of a man about to commit a felony.

“You know,” Max says, loud and clear, “it’s funny. Because I could have sworn—and correct me if I’m wrong, chat—that Lando told me, in confidence, about eight months ago, that he’d met someone. That she was ‘really special.’ That he wanted to ‘keep her a secret because he didn’t want to mess it up.’”

Lando makes a sound like a dying animal. “Max.”

“And I remember thinking,” Max continues, unstoppable now, “how familiar that sounded. How much that reminded me of someone else I knew. Someone who had a secret girlfriend. Someone who got exposed on a live stream by a certain—what was his name again?—oh, right. Lando Norris.”

The chat has achieved light speed.

MAX IS SAVAGE

HE REMEMBERED

THE LORE

LANDO HAVE A GF?????

KARMA IS REAL

Lando drops his head into his hands. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Max grins. “You love me. Just like you love your secret girlfriend who is definitely in your bedroom right now. Hi, by the way! You deserve better than this idiot.”

From the other room, barely audible, you laugh.

And Lando—despite the disaster, despite the betrayal, despite the fact that his phone is now exploding with notifications from every driver, every journalist, and his own mother—smiles.

Just a little.

Worth it.

"Say it," Lando grumbles, crossing his arms even with a smoldering smile on his face. "Say the phrase you want to say"

Max leans into his microphone. He's enjoying this. Really, truly enjoying this.

"Lando have a girlfriend," Max announces, perfectly enunciated. "And he is whipped. And I have screenshots. And voice memos. And approximately fourteen hours of him talking about how pretty her laugh is."

"You're a monster," Lando whispers.

"I learned from the best."

You kept laughing while you were watching everything from your laptop

Later. After the stream ends. After Max logs off cackling. After the internet has fully lost its mind.

You walk into the living room, still in his hoodie, hair messy, holding your phone charger like a trophy. You look at Lando—slumped in his gaming chair, face buried in his hands, ears bright red—and raise an eyebrow.

“So,” you say. “Karma’s a bitch, huh?”

Lando looks up at you, utterly defeated. “He’s never going to let me live this down.”

“Nope.”

“The entire world knows now.”

“Yep.”

“My DMs are going to be hell.”

“Probably.”

He sighs. Then holds out his arms. “Worth it, though.”

You roll your eyes but walk over anyway, letting him pull you into his lap. He tucks his face into your neck, breathing you in, and you can feel him smile against your skin.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “Even if Max Fewtrell is the actual devil.”

“I love you too,” you say. “Even if you did kind of deserve that.”

From somewhere across the city, Max Fewtrell opens a bottle of champagne and tweets a single word:

@maxfewtrell: karma.

The internet explodes again.

Because Max isn't cruel. He's just patient.

And revenge, served cold, tastes best with a side of love.