#and lando with magui | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheftsunoda · 1 month ago

Note

hiiii i’ve got a request for lando + magui!!! i was thinking of a scenario where reader is the best friend of one of magui, but has hooked up with lando! Magui figured out and instead of being mad, she seduces reader and they all three end up together!! i love you work!! i haven’t seen anyone request magui and lando together so i thought it would be a nice little change!!

complicated — ln4 + magui

smau + blurbs

lando norris x reader x magui corceiro

yn was not supposed to see him that night. not in that club. not under those lights. but there he was—lando norris. smiling, golden, drunk off something that looked a lot like heartbreak. yn hadn’t seen him in months, not since the last very public breakup with her best friend, magui. and as far as she knew, it was over. again. so yn danced with him, laughed, let her walls down, let her guard slip. one drink turned into three. his hands found her waist. her lips found his. and somewhere between midnight and regret, yn let herself forget who he was to her. but in the morning—when the makeup smudged and silence settled—she figured it out and the guilt hit like a freight train. yn never meant to hurt her. she was her ride-or-die. her other half. but when yn showed up to confess, to beg for forgiveness, magui didn’t cry. she didn’t yell. she only smiled, slow and sharp. “you could’ve just told me you wanted him,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind yn’s ear. “i would’ve shared.” and just like that, their entire world turned upside down.

fc : lily rowland

(a/n) : as on my kelly post— please no hate. i am simply doing what was requested of me. everyone has their own opinions on magui and they are entitled to those. if she makes lando happy, that is all that matters.

also i suck at writing smut and i attempted to write some slightly in this so do not hate me if it is horrible.

—

f1gossipgirls

2,790,002 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Supermodel YN LN was spotted in a Monaco nightclub in the early hours with none other than F1’s own Lando Norris. The pair were seen getting very close inside before slipping out together through the back entrance. Sources say Lando and longtime on-again, off-again girlfriend Magui Corceiro (who is yn’s bff btw) were recently back on… so this little rendezvous is raising a lot of eyebrows 👀

—

view 175,002 other comments.

username00 : not this man speedrunning his way out of a relationship again 💀💀

username0 : yn??? as in supermodel, cover-of-every-magazine YN??? oh lando won fr

username1 : you lose them how you get them🤷🏻‍♀️

username5 : nah yn and magui have been best friends forever. yn would never just randomly do this to magui. something is up.

username7 : v confused bc after the latest breakup yn was in the press cursing this man’s name

username10 : nah if I was Magui I’d be flipping a table rn.

username11 : someone check if magui unfollowed her rn. I NEED LIVE UPDATES.

—

The bass was so loud I could feel it in my chest, every beat syncing with my pulse like my body couldn’t tell where the music ended and I began. I was two drinks past responsible, three smiles past exhausted, and somewhere between pretending I was fine and actually starting to believe it. And then I saw him.

I didn’t mean to. He just—appeared. Out of nowhere. Like the room shifted and suddenly there was Lando, standing across the club like some kind of glitch in my night. I blinked, thinking maybe it wasn’t him. But no—same curls, same smirk, same way of holding a drink like he couldn’t care less but also wanted to be watched. And his eyes—of course—landed on me.

Of course they did. I froze. For a second, I thought about turning around, disappearing into the crowd, pretending I hadn’t seen him. But then he smiled. And I was fucked.

He made his way toward me like he had all the time in the world. My heart shouldn’t have jumped the way it did. Not for him. Not when he was Magui’s. Or—was he?

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, low and smooth, like we were friends and not two people who definitely shouldn’t be talking.

“Didn’t expect you to still be breathing after what you did to Magui last time,” I shot back, arching a brow.

He laughed—really laughed. That easy, boyish kind of laugh that used to make Magui melt and make me roll my eyes.

“She forgave me,” he said with a shrug. “Or she said she did. It’s… complicated.”

I shouldn’t have cared. But my stomach twisted anyway. Because complicated, to me, always sounded like unfinished. Still, I didn’t walk away. I let him step closer. Close enough to smell that stupid expensive cologne I used to tease him about. Close enough to forget every reason I had to keep my distance.

“Let me get you a drink?” he asked, tilting his head just a little. Like he already knew I’d say yes.

And I did. God help me, I did. Because in that moment—with the lights too low and my brain too soft—I forgot who he was to her. Or maybe I just didn’t want to remember. He handed me the drink — something clear, cold, and expensive — and leaned in just enough to make it look casual. Just enough to make my skin prickle.

“You look different,” he said.

I sipped. “That’s what happens when you don’t see someone for five months. People change.”

He gave me that smug half-smile. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

I didn’t answer. I let the silence stretch between us, heavy with everything unsaid. I could’ve walked away right then. Could’ve rolled my eyes, handed him back the drink, said “Tell Magui I said hi.” But I didn’t. I just… stayed.

“Still modeling?” he asked, like he didn’t already know. Like my face wasn’t plastered on billboards and magazine covers he drove past on the way to every circuit.

I gave him a look. “Still racing?”

He grinned, then took a slow sip of his own drink. “Touché.”

The music shifted — something deeper, smoother, the kind of track that made people lean in and lose their morals. I felt it in my spine.

He stepped a little closer. Too close.

“You and Magui still talk?” he asked. His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp.

I nodded. “We talk every day.”

“Even about me?”

I tilted my head. “Why? Want to know what she says?”

“Only if it’s good,” he murmured, and I laughed despite myself.

He smiled at the sound like he’d won something. Like he knew how dangerous this was and didn’t care.

“You really think this is a good idea?” I asked, finally meeting his gaze head-on.

“I think you look like you needed a good idea tonight,” he said softly. “And I think I did too.”

God. He was trouble. He was Magui’s trouble. But in that moment, under those lights, with the crowd fading into a blur and my brain begging for a break from the pressure—I didn’t feel like the girl who made the right choices.

I felt like the girl who was one wrong move away from doing something she couldn’t take back.

And when he reached out, fingers brushing against my wrist, I didn’t pull away.

I let him.

—

The lights were lower on the dance floor — dim and smoky, pulsing red and violet like the whole room was breathing in sync. The music shifted again, slower now, deeper. A beat made for moving close. For making mistakes.

Lando looked at me like he was waiting for a sign. I didn’t give him one. I just turned and walked toward the crowd.

I didn’t look back to see if he followed.

I didn’t need to.

The moment I stepped onto the floor, the music swallowed me. Arms in the air, eyes closed, hips swaying like I hadn’t been overthinking everything since the second I saw him. And then — there he was. Behind me. A hand lightly grazing my hip, like a question mark.

I didn’t stop him.

We moved like that for a while — not speaking, not looking, just feeling. The heat of his body behind mine, his chest at my back, one of his hands trailing down my arm as if he wasn’t sure where he ended and I began. Every movement, every breath, felt like a warning I didn’t listen to.

And then he leaned in.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he said, “Tell me to stop.”

I didn’t.

Maybe I couldn’t.

I turned to face him instead. His eyes were darker now, searching, daring. And before I could think better of it, before I could even breathe—he kissed me.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t polite. It was months of tension. Years of denial. A thousand unspoken what-ifs igniting in one split second. His hand tangled in my hair, mine fisting the front of his shirt. The world blurred around us. People danced, lights flickered, music pounded—and I didn’t care.

I kissed him like he belonged to no one. Like I wasn’t betraying my best friend. Like I didn’t already know this would ruin everything.

Because in that moment?

I just wanted to feel something.

And God, did I.

—

The kiss didn’t end so much as it broke. A breath, a beat, and then we were staring at each other like we didn’t recognize what we’d just done.

His lips were red, mine were tingling, and somewhere between the club lights and common sense, I let the words slip out:

“Let’s go.”

He didn’t ask where. He didn’t need to. We slipped out through the back — the same way all bad ideas leave clubs at 2 a.m. The air outside was cool and sharp against my flushed skin. A car was already waiting. Of course it was. Lando moved like a man who always expected the night to bend to him.

The taxi ride was quiet, except for the way his hand found mine between us. Not grabbing. Not pulling. Just there. Warm. Real. Dangerous.

He looked out the window. I looked at him.

“This is a bad idea,” I whispered.

“I know.”

I should’ve told the driver to turn around. I should’ve texted Magui. I should’ve said something that sounded like loyalty.

But instead, I followed him into the elevator, twenty-something floors up, heart in my throat and guilt already clawing at my ribs. He swiped his key. The doors opened.

The suite was sleek. Cold. Bigger than my apartment.

He shut the door behind us with a quiet click, and we stood there — still, silent — like if we didn’t move, the weight of what we were doing wouldn’t fall on us yet. Then he stepped forward. And so did I. It wasn’t rushed.

It was worse than that — slow. Careful. Reverent. His hands found my face, then my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek like he was trying to memorize the shape of regret.

“You don’t have to—” he started.

“I want to,” I said, before I could lie.

Clothes hit the floor like confessions we didn’t say out loud. Every touch felt wrong and right at the same time. His mouth was everywhere — my neck, my collarbone, the curve of my shoulder — and I let him have it all. Not because I didn’t know better. But because for one night, I didn’t care.

His skin was warm, his voice soft when he whispered my name against my throat, and I let myself fall into the way his hands knew exactly how to undo me.

And in the quiet moments in between — when his forehead pressed to mine, when our breaths synced, when he kissed me like I was something more than a distraction — I tried to forget that this wasn’t mine to have. That I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. And that the person I loved most would never see me the same again.

—

I woke up to sunlight bleeding through floor-to-ceiling windows, sharp and unforgiving. My head was pounding, my mouth dry, and the unfamiliar sheets were tangled around my legs like consequences I couldn’t shake off.

It took me all of three seconds to remember.

Lando. His skin. His hands. His mouth.

Last night.

I bolted upright, heart in my throat. The hotel suite was quiet, eerily so, except for the soft rustle of sheets beside me. I glanced over.

He was still asleep.

Hair a mess. Arm thrown carelessly over the pillow where I’d just been. Peaceful. Innocent-looking. Like he hadn’t just helped me commit emotional treason twelve hours ago.

I stood up, grabbing the first oversized shirt I could find — his, obviously — and stumbled toward my phone on the marble counter. Bad idea. Worst idea.

I had five missed calls, three texts from my agent, and a flood of notifications. Instagram, Twitter, even WhatsApp was lit up like a Christmas tree.

I opened one of the DMs. Then another. Then my stomach sank. There it was. A photo of us. Him. Me. The back exit. His hand on my lower back. My head tipped toward him like I was seconds from kissing him again. Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” I said aloud, louder than I meant to.

Lando stirred behind me. “Mm?” he mumbled, voice hoarse, eyes still closed. “You okay?”

“No,” I snapped, spinning around. “No, Lando, I’m not okay.”

He blinked at me, trying to sit up. “What’s going on?”

I held the phone out like it was evidence in a murder trial. “Are you with her?”

He squinted. “What?”

“Magui. Are you and Magui back together?”

He was silent for a second too long.

That was all the answer I needed.

“Oh my god.” My voice cracked. “I thought you were done. You said it was complicated. You let me think—”

“I didn’t let you think anything,” he said quickly, rubbing a hand down his face. “I said it was complicated. It still is. She and I—we weren’t official, not really—”

“Not really?” I echoed. “Lando, she’s my best friend. I just slept with my best friend’s on-again-off-again boyfriend.”

He sat up fully now, panic creeping into his eyes. “Okay, okay. Breathe. Look—we’ll handle it. I’ll talk to her.”

“No,” I said, stepping back, pulse in my ears. “I have to talk to her. I have to fix this.”

I didn’t know if she’d scream or cry or never speak to me again. But I knew one thing with gut-wrenching certainty. Last night had been a mistake. And no matter how good it felt in the moment, I wasn’t the kind of girl who could sleep with someone and pretend the fallout didn’t matter. Especially not when the person I could lose was the one I never wanted to hurt.

—

I didn’t call. I couldn’t. Because if I heard her voice — if she sounded angry, or hurt, or disappointed — I knew I’d fall apart before I could even apologize. So I just got in the car and went. The ride over was a blur. My stomach twisted the whole way there, hands shaking in my lap. My brain kept replaying the headline. The photo. The kiss. The choice I made.

Her building was too familiar. I’d been here a thousand times — hungover brunches, girls’ nights in, crying on her couch after heartbreaks we swore we’d never repeat. And now I was the one who broke the rules. I didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door. Screaming? Crying? A slap in the face? But instead, Magui just… stared at me.

Hair in a messy bun. No makeup. An oversized hoodie and a mug of coffee in her hand like it was just another Sunday. Her eyes flicked down to my face, then my outfit — still half in last night’s regret — and something in her expression shifted. I swallowed hard.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, the words falling out of my mouth like they were on fire. “I didn’t know you were back together. I never would’ve—Magui, I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you guys were done. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” she said, gently but firmly.

I froze.

She blinked at me. Then tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

I blinked back. “What?”

Magui stepped aside to let me in, shutting the door behind me like this was any other visit. Like I hadn’t just slept with the one person I was never supposed to touch.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” she added. “Did Lando freak out? Of course he did. Men are always worse at cleaning up messes they help make.”

I just stared at her.

“You’re not… mad?”

She let out a soft laugh. Not bitter. Not sharp. Just amused. “Mad? No. A little surprised you didn’t tell me? Maybe. But mad?” She shrugged. “I mean, I did say it was complicated. You’re not the first girl he’s kissed while we were technically on a break.”

I felt like the floor dropped out beneath me. “Magui, we didn’t just kiss…”

She smiled then — slow, sly, a little too knowing. “I figured.”

I stared at her, speechless. “Why are you being so calm about this?”

She took a sip of her coffee, then leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes locking with mine in a way that made something inside me buzz with nerves.

“Because,” she said simply, “if it had been anyone else, maybe I would’ve been pissed. But you?”

She stepped closer. Close enough to make my heart trip.

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever looked at and thought… maybe I wouldn’t mind sharing with.”

I forgot how to breathe.

“I’m serious,” she added, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You think I didn’t notice the way he looks at you? Or the way you look at me? Come on. I’ve seen the way you stare when you think I’m not looking.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

She laughed again, softer this time. “You didn’t betray me, querida. You just… exposed something we’ve all been ignoring.”

She stepped even closer, and my back hit the wall.

“So, now the real question,” she whispered, fingertips lightly grazing my wrist.

“What do you want?”

—

yn_ln

liked by lando, lewishamilton, magui_corceiro and 10,007,002 others.

yn_ln : girls cum first!

tagged : magui_corceiro

—

view 727,014 other comments.

username00 : everyone SHUT UP. mothers r mothering together even after that MAN tried to ruin it.

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

magui_corceiro : as they always should ;)

liked by yn_ln

franciscagomes : my girliesss ily

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

username0 : why is lando in the likes?? get out.

↳ username1 : half the grid are in her likes tbh. don't blame them.

lando : cheeky 👀

liked by yn_ln and magui_corceiro

↳ alex_albon : i am so fucking confused.

liked by yn_ln and lando

↳ lilymhe : me too but yn is so hot that i am distracted

liked by yn_ln, magui_corceiro and lando

lewishamilton : Stunning as always, YN.

liked by yn_ln

↳ yn_ln : charming as always, mr. hamilton.

liked by lewishamilton

—

I left that conversation rather open...I wasn't sure what to say. And naturally, Magui texted me the next morning like nothing had changed.

Lunch? My treat. You owe me a story.

A winky face. A heart. And I guess… I went. Maybe because I owed her more than just a story. Or maybe because a part of me still hadn’t processed the night before — the way she looked at me, the way her hand grazed my wrist, how her words wrapped around my neck like a silk ribbon I didn’t know what to do with.

You’re the only girl I’d ever share with.

I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. So I met her at this rooftop café she loved — the kind with overpriced salads, glittering glassware, and the best view of the city. She was already there when I arrived, tucked into a corner booth like a summer goddess in a tiny white dress and gold hoops that caught the sunlight like they had a grudge against everyone else trying to look good.

She looked up, smiled, and waved me over. “You’re late.”

I sat down, suddenly self-conscious in my little black tank and messy bun. “You’re insufferably early. What’s new?”

She laughed — this soft, lazy sound that made my skin buzz. “You look tired.”

“You look smug.”

“I slept better than you, apparently.”

I didn’t reply. She knew exactly why I hadn’t slept. And the fact that she was smiling about it made me dizzy. We ordered — iced coffees, ridiculous truffle fries, something green we wouldn’t finish — and the conversation drifted. Travel. Work. A red carpet she was skipping. A shoot I had next week in Milan. But then she leaned in, chin resting in her hand, eyes fixed on me like she was trying to peel me open.

“Are you still overthinking everything?” she asked, voice low.

I blinked. “I’m not overthinking.”

“You’re literally chewing your straw, meu amor.”

I dropped it instantly. She smiled, then slid her foot against mine under the table — gentle, deliberate.

“You do that thing when you’re nervous. Your shoulders get tight.” Her fingers brushed the top of my arm. “Like this.”

I swallowed. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re spiraling. And for what?” she said, sitting back, picking up a fry like we were talking about the weather. “You made one bad decision.”

“You mean sleeping with your boyfriend?”

Her brows lifted. “Ex-ish. On-again-off-again. Technicality territory. And don’t forget the part where I’m not mad about it.”

“Yeah, I still don’t get that part.”

She tilted her head, eyes glittering. “That’s because you keep thinking in black and white. But people… we’re messy. And maybe I like messy.”

Her voice was soft, but her meaning hit sharp. She reached for my hand — just like that, like it was natural — and started tracing lazy circles over my knuckles with her thumb. It was… grounding and electric all at once. I stared at her, a thousand questions racing through me, none of them landing.

“I like you,” she said. “You know that, right?”

I nodded, because my voice had stopped working.

“And maybe this whole thing isn’t about me and Lando,” she added, eyes locked with mine. “Maybe it’s always been about you.”

I exhaled, shaky. She smiled again — that slow, dangerous kind of smile that made it very clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Come out with me tonight,” she said, casually, like it wasn’t a dare. “Just us. No cameras. No pressure. Just… me and you.”

And the way she looked at me — confident, knowing, patient — it made something inside me unravel.

“Okay,” I said, barely above a whisper.

She squeezed my hand. “Good girl.”

And just like that, I was spiraling again — but for an entirely different reason.

—

By the time I made it to the bar, my heart was already pounding. She was waiting for me near the back, in some dimly lit corner of the rooftop lounge. Black dress. Slicked-back hair. That familiar smile like she’d been watching me from the second I walked in.

“Hi, pretty girl,” she said as I slid into the seat next to her.

“Hi.”

She handed me a drink — something pink, bubbly, a little too sweet.

“Drink. Relax. You’ve been thinking too hard since Wednesday.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

We clinked glasses. She kept looking at me over the rim of hers like she could see every nerve firing inside my brain. And somehow, that didn’t scare me as much as it should’ve. We talked. Laughed. Shared fries and made fun of people’s shoes. It felt good. Too good, almost — too easy, too safe, like forgetting how complicated this all really was. But every time our knees brushed under the table, or our fingers touched reaching for the same thing, something tugged at me. Something warm. Something dangerous.

“Do you remember Milan?” she asked suddenly, swirling her straw in her drink.

I blinked. “Which part?”

“That night we stayed in, ordered pizza, and danced around in that ugly hotel robe you stole?”

I laughed. “It wasn’t ugly. It was iconic.”

“You wore it like a runway piece. Of course you did.” Her gaze dropped to my lips for just a second. “I wanted to kiss you that night.”

The air left my lungs. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, because I didn’t know what I was about to say — or whether I should say anything at all.

She leaned closer, her voice low. “Did you want me to?”

I couldn’t lie. Not to her. Not now.

“…Yeah,” I whispered. “I think I did.”

Her eyes softened. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers brushing along my cheek. The city lights flickered around us, but everything else faded. She didn’t rush. She gave me space — the kind that feels like a question. And when I didn’t pull back… she kissed me. Soft at first. Intentional. Her lips warm, familiar, curious. Like she was asking permission even now — and I gave it to her without hesitation. The kiss deepened, just enough to make my fingers curl into the fabric of her dress. Just enough to feel it — not lust, not confusion, but something slower. Heavier. Real. When she pulled away, her forehead rested gently against mine.

“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up,” she whispered.

“I think I just did.”

She smiled, her thumb stroking my jaw. “Good. Because I’m not sharing you tonight.”

And for once — for the first time in days — my heart didn’t panic. It fluttered.

—

third person pov

Magui was already in his kitchen when he walked out, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, his hoodie hanging off one shoulder, and she was drinking his almond milk straight from the carton like she owned the place. She did that sometimes. Acted like the apartment was hers. Acted like he was.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"You’re out of coffee pods. Again."

He blinked at her. “Did you break in?”

“Spare key,” she said sweetly, setting the carton down. “And a very compelling reason.”

He raised a brow, stepping around her to pour a glass of water. “Let me guess. This has something to do with YN.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just gave him a look — the kind that meant yes, obviously and don’t play dumb, Norris.

Lando leaned back against the counter, glass in hand. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

Magui tilted her head. “She kissed me back.”

That made his chest tighten. Not with jealousy — something softer. Something almost excited.

“Is she freaking out?” he asked.

“A little,” Magui admitted, walking toward him. “But not in a bad way. She’s thinking. Feeling. I can see it on her. She’s not confused about what she wants, just scared to admit she wants both.”

Lando smirked. “She’s not the only one who should be scared.”

Magui leaned against the counter beside him, shoulder brushing his. “We’re not dangerous, Lando. We’re just honest. For once.”

He looked down at her. “You think she’d go for it? Us. Together.”

Magui nodded without hesitation. “I think she already is. She just doesn’t know how to name it yet.”

He was quiet for a moment, replaying every second of that night with YN. The way she kissed like she didn’t know how to stop. The way she looked at him like she wanted something more, even if she didn’t dare ask for it. And now… she was looking at Magui the same way.

“We can’t push her,” he said carefully. “She’ll bolt.”

Magui smiled, slow and sharp. “Who said anything about pushing?”

Lando looked at her — her confidence, her calm, her certainty. The way she always made chaos feel like a controlled burn. He exhaled slowly.

“So what’s the plan then?”

She grinned. “We love her. Loudly. Softly. Patiently.”

“And if she runs?”

Magui shrugged. “We follow.”

She picked up her phone, tapping out a message with a knowing glint in her eye. “Let her think she’s in control.”

Lando raised a brow. “You’re scary.”

Magui winked. “You love it.”

Magui was already typing out a text to YN.

Drinks tonight? Our place? Bring your pretty mouth and better excuses this time. x

YN’s name lit up below it, typing. Lando didn’t have to read the reply to know she’d say yes. And this time, they wouldn’t let her slip away.

—

your pov

I wasn’t sure why I said yes. Maybe because I didn’t know how to say no. Maybe because a part of me wanted to test what the hell this even was. Or maybe… because deep down, I wanted it. Them. Both of them. I told myself it was just drinks. A casual hang. Something chill. But nothing about stepping into that apartment felt casual.

Lando opened the door with a smirk that was entirely too smug for someone wearing sweatpants and a tight black tee that should’ve been illegal.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, eyes doing a slow sweep of me like I was already undone. “You came.”

“Yeah, well… free alcohol is hard to turn down.”

He chuckled and stepped aside to let me in. The place smelled like something warm and expensive — wood, vanilla, him. The lights were low, music playing faintly from the speakers. Nothing too loud. Nothing that could distract from the fact that he was the only one here.

I glanced around. “Magui not here yet?”

“She’s… around,” he said cryptically. “She’ll be out soon.”

I frowned, but before I could question it, he handed me a glass. Something chilled. Bubbly. Of course.

He gestured toward the couch. “Sit with me.”

So I did. We sat close — not touching, but too near to pretend the tension wasn’t already thick in the air. His knee brushed mine when he shifted. His gaze kept dropping to my lips every time I sipped from my glass.

“You look good,” he said after a beat.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything. Just telling the truth.”

I looked away, suddenly very aware of how warm my skin felt.

“You’ve been different lately,” he added, softer now. “Since… that night.”

“You mean the night we shouldn’t talk about?”

He tilted his head. “You regret it?”

I hesitated. Too long.

“I regret not knowing what it meant,” I admitted.

His eyes darkened, but there was something gentle behind it. “What if it didn’t have to mean one thing? What if it could mean something new?”

I swallowed, unsure what to say — and then I heard her voice.

“Stop hogging her, baby.”

I turned. Magui leaned against the hallway doorframe in a short silk robe and nothing underneath if my eyes were telling the truth. Her hair was loose, her makeup soft, but her smile was all bite. My heart skipped. She walked toward us slowly, like she had all the time in the world. Like this was normal. Like I was hers.

She dropped onto the couch on my other side, tucking herself in close so her thigh pressed against mine. Lando was already on the other side of me, his arm draped along the back of the couch. I was boxed in — not by force. By gravity. Magui reached for my hand, traced my knuckles like she had at lunch, and looked at me like she already knew how this ended.

“We want you,” she said simply. “No games. No secrets. No ‘what are we.’ Just truth.”

Lando leaned in closer, lips ghosting the curve of my shoulder. “Only if you want us too.”

The air felt electric. Like I’d been caught in the eye of a storm I didn’t even realize I walked into. Their hands were soft. Their eyes held no pressure — only promise. And for the first time since all of this started, I didn’t feel guilty. I felt wanted. I set my glass down slowly, heart racing.

And whispered, “Then show me.”

I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t need to.

Magui’s lips were on mine before I could take another breath — soft and certain, like she’d been waiting for that moment since the very first time we locked eyes. Her fingers slid up my neck, threading into my hair, pulling me closer like she wanted to taste every part of my hesitation and replace it with her own rhythm.

Lando’s hand brushed my thigh, grounding me. The contrast between them was dizzying — her kiss was honey and heat, while his touch was fire and restraint. He leaned in behind me, his mouth at my ear.

“Tell us if it’s too much,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “We’ll stop whenever you want.”

But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted more. I turned, catching Lando’s mouth with mine, my fingers clutching the front of his shirt. His kiss was hungrier — less patient than Magui’s, like he’d already had me once and had been thinking about it every night since. When Magui’s lips found the edge of my jaw, trailing kisses down to my throat, I let out a quiet sound I couldn’t hold back.

Their hands moved in tandem — hers on my waist, sliding beneath my top, and his slipping under the hem of my skirt, fingertips tracing just enough to make me shiver. I was caught between them, quite literally — all breath and skin and want. Every shift brought a new sensation: Lando’s lips hot on my collarbone, Magui’s nails grazing down my side, the press of their bodies against mine like they were rewriting me together.

“You’re a little excited,” Magui whispered, but she was smiling — not teasing, not cruel. “You feel everything, don’t you?”

I nodded, eyes fluttering shut as her hand slipped beneath my bra, cupping me in a way that made my breath hitch. Lando was behind me now, kissing the curve of my shoulder, sliding the straps of my top down with maddening control.

“Let us take care of you,” he said against my skin. “Let us have you.”

And I let them. They undressed me like they’d done it before — like they’d thought about this, dreamed about it. Every layer peeled away carefully. No rush. No shame. Just reverence. Magui laid me back on the couch, her mouth returning to mine while Lando’s hands parted my thighs, slow and sure. He kissed up the inside, murmuring things I couldn’t quite catch — words that vibrated against my skin and made my stomach clench. And when Magui trailed kisses down my chest, Lando’s mouth replaced her lips on mine, and I felt the rhythm of both of them, their energy folding over me, touching everywhere at once — I gave in.

To the sensation. To the safety. To them.

Hands and mouths, warmth and wetness, soft gasps and low groans — it all blurred together in a haze of pleasure and trust. Every time I cried out, Magui kissed it from my lips. Every time I arched, Lando held me steady. I wasn’t just wanted — I was worshipped. And when they finally brought me over the edge, both of them watching, touching, kissing, whispering my name like it was something holy — I realized this wasn’t about chaos or confusion anymore. It was about belonging. They didn’t just seduce me. They claimed me. Together.

—

I woke up warm. Not just from the sunlight slipping through half-drawn curtains or the lingering heat between my thighs, but from the weight of them — Magui curled against my back, Lando draped over my front, his arm looped around my waist like he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. For a moment, I didn’t move.

I just breathed. Let myself exist in the stillness of it. The calm after the storm. My skin still tingled, my lips were swollen, and my body ached in that delicious, heavy way that only came after being touched exactly how you needed.

Magui stirred behind me first, her nose brushing against the back of my neck.

“Mmm… you’re awake,” she murmured, her voice husky and warm with sleep.

I smiled into the pillow. “Barely.”

Lando made a soft sound of protest from the other side of me and nuzzled closer, his arm tightening around my waist. “Too early,” he mumbled. “Five more years.”

Magui giggled, her hand slipping up to rest gently over my heart. “You’re such a baby.”

“You wore me out,” he shot back, voice still heavy with sleep, but amused.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered, which earned a soft hum of approval from both of them.

We laid there for a while, tangled together in a silence that wasn’t awkward. It was… easy. Like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. It should’ve felt confusing. Maybe even wrong. Instead, it felt like peace.

Eventually, I turned onto my back, both of them shifting with me like we were connected by something invisible. Magui propped her head on her hand, looking down at me with that slow, unreadable smile of hers.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

I nodded, eyes flicking between them. “Yeah. Actually… I think I am.”

Lando stretched, looking far too pleased with himself for someone whose curls were a complete mess. “Told you we’d take care of you.”

“You also told me you wouldn’t fall asleep immediately after,” I teased.

“That’s slander.”

Magui laughed and leaned down, pressing the gentlest kiss to my shoulder. “We’re serious, you know.”

I looked up at her. “About…?”

“You,” she said. “Us.”

Lando’s fingers found mine beneath the sheets. “Only if you want it.”

I swallowed, staring at the ceiling for a moment — then at them. Their eyes, still soft. Their hands, still on me like I was something worth holding onto.

“I don’t know what this is,” I said honestly. “Or what it means yet.”

Magui nodded, unbothered. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Lando pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “We’re not going anywhere.”

—

yn_ln

liked by magui_corceiro, lando, alexandrasaintmleux and 11,007,007 others.

yn_ln : no comment. just my recent chaos.

tagged : lando and magui_corceiro

—

view 777,213 other comments.

username00 : um are we ignoring the literal kiss with her and magui???

↳ username0 : i feel like they r just close like that. what we really are ignoring is lando making the dump and the last photo...that is clearly A MANS hand.

carlossainz55 : no entiendo nada pero me encanta

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↳ carlossainz55 : also choosing to ignore the fact that you are a barcelona fan 🤮

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↳ yn_ln : visca el barçaaaaaaaaaa baybeeeeeee

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username1 : this post has LORE and I’m here to decode it 🔍

magui_corceiro : your chaos is my favorite kind. 💋

liked by yn_ln

↳ yn_ln : need another kiss rn

liked by magui_corceiro

↳ magui_corceiro : on my way babes

↳ lando : ME TOOOOO WAIT FOR ME

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↳ username5 : officially so fucking confused

↳ alex_albon : get on the train. i've been confused for weeks and i know these people.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

—

Magui and I boarded first, sunglasses on, coffee cups in hand, sliding into the plush cream leather seats like we did every time. She claimed the window seat immediately, like always. I stretched out beside her, barefoot already, and pulled a blanket over both our laps.

Lando arrived five minutes late, hoodie up, sleep in his eyes, and dragging a backpack he hadn’t even bothered to zip. He dropped into the seat across from us with a groan and zero grace.

“This was a mistake,” he muttered, muffled into the seat cushion.

“You begged to come with us,” Magui said, sipping her drink. “Don’t act like a hostage.”

“You’re both insufferable,” he mumbled.

“You’re lucky we let you sit near us,” I added sweetly.

He cracked one eye open and gave me a lazy smile. “You wouldn’t survive five minutes without me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Magui quipped, raising a brow.

Lando rolled his eyes, but didn’t move — just kicked his feet up, stretched his legs across the aisle, and left one hand lazily draped over the armrest… which “just happened” to brush against my leg.

The hum of the engines and soft clink of glassware blended into that peaceful kind of silence only private flights could give you — no strangers, no press, no noise except the occasional comment from Magui when she found something ridiculous on Pinterest.

“You two are freakishly coordinated,” Lando said at one point, glancing at our matching claw clips and identical socks. “It’s like watching a cult.”

“They’re bows,” Magui said without looking up. “And you’re just mad you can’t pull them off.”

“You’re terrifying,” he replied, sipping his orange juice. “Both of you.”

Magui reached across me to tug on his hoodie string. “Jealous you weren’t invited to the slumber party.”

“I was invited,” he said, smirking now. “I’m the emotional support.”

I grinned. “You’re just here for the snacks.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who ate three croissants before takeoff.”

“Self-care,” I said. “Don’t be a hater.”

Magui leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, “He’s pouting. It’s kind of hot.”

Lando groaned. “I swear, one day I’m gonna walk off this jet mid-air.”

“Do a flip,” I whispered back.

We all fell asleep eventually — the kind of hazy, luxurious nap only a jet could grant you. Magui had her head in my lap, her hand loosely around my wrist. Lando had stretched out across two seats, one leg hanging off, one hand still brushing my ankle like even in his sleep he couldn’t help it. I woke up first. The cabin was warm and quiet, lit only by the afternoon sun pouring through the windows. I reached for my phone and opened my camera roll — scrolled through blurry selfies, Magui’s bare shoulder under hotel sheets, Lando kissing my cheek in a moment I didn’t even remember capturing. One photo stopped me: the three of us tangled on the bed, laughing, undone, us. I saved it to my favorites.

Lando stirred across from me, eyes half-lidded, voice thick with sleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Just thinking.”

He smiled, slow and sleepy. “Still weird?”

I looked down at Magui’s face, peaceful in sleep, curled into me like she belonged there. My fingers grazed the side of her arm.

“No,” I said. “Not weird at all.”

He nodded like he already knew.

Then he muttered, “Still want snacks though.”

And just like that, we were back to normal — whatever our version of that was now.

—

The room was quiet, warm, filled with the kind of stillness that only happens when you’ve run out of words — not because there’s nothing to say, but because nothing needs to be said. Magui sat at the edge of the bed, brushing out her damp hair in one of Lando’s oversized t-shirts, legs bare, skin glowing from her evening skincare routine. Lando was on the couch by the window, hoodie pulled over his curls, legs stretched out, staring out over the lights of the city below like he was trying to slow the world down before race day hit him full force. I stood somewhere in the middle — between them, between sleep and thought, between this is happening and this is mine.

“You’re pacing,” Magui said softly, not looking up.

“I’m thinking,” I replied.

Lando didn’t move from the window, but I saw his smirk in the reflection. “Same thing, if you’re her.”

I rolled my eyes, finally making my way toward the bed. Magui reached for me instantly, like she was waiting. Her fingers curled around my wrist, pulling me down beside her, one leg draping lazily over mine.

“You’re allowed to just be,” she murmured.

“Hard habit to break.”

Lando joined us a minute later, dropping beside me with a sigh that sounded more like relief than exhaustion. He leaned his head on my shoulder, his hand reaching for Magui’s without a word. She laced her fingers through his, like they’d done it a thousand times. Like this had always been the plan.

“Big day tomorrow,” I said, even though none of us really needed to hear it aloud.

He hummed. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got my good luck charm.”

I raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He looked up at me. Then at Magui. “Both of them.”

Something soft cracked open in my chest. Magui leaned in first, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder. Lando followed, brushing his lips just under my jaw — not rushed, not heated, just there. Warm and steady. Real. The three of us shifted until we were lying back on the bed, limbs overlapping, tangled in sheets and skin and something too new to name but too certain to ignore. Magui’s head rested over my heart. Lando’s arm wrapped around my waist, thumb tracing lazy patterns into my ribs. I stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of them both and the strange lightness they brought with them.

“I still don’t know what this is,” I whispered.

Lando kissed my collarbone. “It’s whatever we want it to be.”

“No rules,” Magui added sleepily, “just honesty.”

“And lots of kisses,” Lando said. “That’s non-negotiable.”

I laughed — a small, genuine sound that only came out when I felt safe.

Magui looked up at me, her lashes fluttering. “You feel safe now?”

I nodded, threading my fingers through her hair. “I think I’ve never felt safer.”

Lando kissed the top of my head. “Then we’re doing something right.”

We fell asleep like that — wrapped up in each other, quiet and full and whole in a way I hadn’t known I was missing until they gave it to me. And for the first time before a race weekend… I didn’t feel like I was waiting for something to fall apart. I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

—

f1gossipgirls

4,001,005 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Double Trouble? YN and Magui Corceiro Seen in the Paddock — Together — Supporting Lando Norris. If you thought one blonde beauty in the paddock was enough to raise eyebrows, try two. Spanish Supermodel YN and Portuguese starlet Magui Corceiro were both spotted at the Grand Prix this weekend — and let’s just say, the energy was not subtle. Fans captured photos of the two women chatting and laughing with Lando Norris’ mum, hinting at a comfort level that goes way beyond casual friends or supportive exes.

Even more interesting? Sources say YN was seen sharing a quick kiss with Norris just before he stepped into the garage — while Magui stood nearby, smiling like she was in on the secret. The trio haven’t commented on the growing speculation about their relationship dynamic, but between matching outfits, late-night Instagram stories, and now a cozy chat with Lando’s mother, the rumors practically write themselves. No confirmation yet — but the paddock tension? It’s giving poly-coded. Stay tuned.

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

It started with a hand on my back. Light. Barely there. But unmistakably his. Lando didn’t say anything at first. Just stood behind me while I talked to one of the PR girls I’d met a few races ago, his hand grazing my lower back like a casual habit. Like he’d done it a hundred times. Like it didn’t make my entire body burn. Magui was a few feet away, talking animatedly to one of the McLaren engineers like she owned the place — laughing, gesturing, a vision in low-rise jeans and a vintage racing jacket that I swore she stole from Lando’s closet. She caught my eye mid-sentence. Winked. I nearly choked on my water.

People didn’t really question why I was here anymore. I was “friends with the team.” A face they’d gotten used to. But there was something different now. The way I moved between them — between him and her. The way Lando didn’t flinch when his hand slipped around my waist in front of the crew. The way Magui tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear while we waited by the garage, like it was just something she did. It all felt natural. Dangerous. Beautiful.

I stood next to Magui during quali, both of us in sunglasses and team colors, and didn’t miss the subtle glances from the photographers — the way lenses lingered, not quite sure what they were catching. Lando walked past at one point, suit half on, helmet in hand. He slowed just enough to tap my waist and press a kiss to my temple.

“You good?” he murmured.

“Always,” I whispered back.

He smiled, then turned to Magui. “You behaving?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, grinning.

He jogged off and left us both standing there, half-laughing and trying not to look too pleased with ourselves. Later, we found ourselves in hospitality, tucked in a quiet corner. Magui sat with her legs thrown over mine, her fingers brushing patterns into my knee while I scrolled through photos from the day. Lando slid into the booth beside us like he’d been summoned.

“Tired?” he asked, nudging his thigh against mine.

I nodded. “You race. I survive the chaos you cause.”

He smirked. “Same thing.”

Someone across the room was definitely taking pictures. I could feel it. But neither of them seemed to care. And somehow, for once, neither did I. Because this was ours. And whether the world knew or not…I did.

—

It was too hot to be drinking tea, but Lando’s mum had insisted — and honestly, when Cisca offered something, you didn’t say no. We were at the back of the McLaren hospitality unit, tucked away in a little lounge area with floral mugs, little lemon biscuits, and an aggressive air conditioning unit humming above us.

Magui was cross-legged beside me, one arm draped lazily over the back of the cushioned bench, her head tilted to watch Cisca with that familiar, amused fondness she reserved for only a handful of people. I stirred my tea, more for something to do with my hands than anything.

Cisca smiled at us both over the rim of her cup. “You girls travel more than he does. It’s impressive.”

Magui grinned. “We’re emotional support. Jet-lagged, over-caffeinated support.”

Cisca laughed — that kind of low, knowing laugh that made you feel like you were in on something.

“He’s been different,” she said, not looking at either of us directly. “Happier.”

My heart flipped. Magui reached for a biscuit, broke it in half, and offered me the bigger piece without thinking. “He’s got a lot to be happy about.”

Cisca gave us both a look — not suspicious, not surprised. Just observant. The way mothers are. And then, after a quiet beat: “I don’t need to ask questions,” she said, taking another sip. “I’ve been around long enough to know love when I see it.”

I blinked. My fingers tightened around the mug. Magui, as always, recovered first. “Is this the part where you say you’ll kill us if we break his heart?”

Cisca shook her head, smiling. “No, darling. This is the part where I say thank you — for looking after him. And each other.”

Something cracked open in my chest. All the nerves, all the quiet what-ifs I hadn’t even let myself voice, slipped a little further away. Because it wasn’t just approval. It was acceptance. Magui bumped her knee against mine under the table, and I felt her fingers brush mine softly, like she was checking if I was okay. I didn’t say anything. But I smiled — and squeezed back. And maybe for the first time in this whole strange, beautiful mess of a relationship… I let myself believe it was real.

—

lando

liked by yn_ln, magui_corceiro, carlossainz55 and 15,001,004 others.

lando : B-O-A-F. BOAF? BOAF.

love my girls

tagged : yn_ln and magui_corceiro

—

view 778,004 other comments.

username00 : we need a lando masterclass bc how did he pull them both????

↳ lando : my big d-

↳ yn_ln : what can i say? he is a charmer.

liked by lando and magui_corceiro

carlossainz55 : this is quite literally the most lando way to hard launch.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

danielricciardo : i leave and suddenly you know how to talk to girls.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

↳ lando : i know how to do more than talk

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↳ yn_ln : lando.

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↳ lando : sorry mom- mommy.

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oscarpiastri : the math still is not mathing on how you got even one of them let alone the both of them but i am...happy for you. slightly impressed even.

liked by lando, yn_ln and magui_corceiro

—

538 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 4 months ago

Text

Unexpected Reunion

Word count: 404

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You unexpectedly run into your ex-boyfriend Lando Norris and his new girlfriend Magui.

________________________________________________________

You hadn’t planned on running into Lando. It had been months since you’d last seen him, and while things had ended on good terms, life had simply moved on. You were still close with his mom, Cisca, though. She had always treated you like family, and even after the breakup, she insisted that nothing had to change between you two.

So, when she invited you for coffee while she was in town, you didn’t hesitate. You were sitting at an outdoor café, laughing with her about something trivial, when a familiar voice made you glance up.

“Hey, Mum—oh.”

Lando stood there, looking just as surprised as you. And beside him was a girl you immediately recognized—Magui.

You’d heard about her, of course. Everyone had. The internet was relentless when it came to new WAGs, and you had seen the narratives. Some called her a social climber, others insisted she was the real deal. You never paid much attention to it—people always had opinions, and most of them weren’t worth listening to.

Still, you weren’t sure how this moment was going to go.

But then Magui smiled at you—genuinely. “Hi! You must be Y/n. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Oh—yeah, that’s me.” You turned to Lando with an amused smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little awkward but not uncomfortable. “Yeah, we were just walking around, and Mum texted me she was here.”

Magui’s smile didn’t waver. “She talks about you all the time.”

Cisca rolled her eyes. “Because I like her. She’s still family.”

You chuckled. “Well, I appreciate that.” You glanced at Magui, trying to get a read on her, but all you saw was warmth. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Lando, who had been standing a little stiffly, seemed to relax at your words.

The four of you ended up sitting together for a little while. Magui was sweet, asking about your work, your travels—nothing about Lando, nothing weird. It was a relief, honestly.

When they eventually got up to leave, Magui surprised you by giving you a quick hug. “I hope we see you again soon.”

You watched them walk away, then turned to Cisca, who was looking at you with a knowing smile.

“She’s nice,” you admitted. “I’m happy for him.”

Cisca patted your hand. “I knew you would be.”

548 notes · View notes

formulafanfics13 · 13 days ago

Note

Hi, could you make a story about Lando, in which his best friend meets Magui and knows about all the controversies she was involved in for cheating on her ex-boyfriend (João Félix) and she tries to warn Lando, telling him everything she (Magui) did in the past, but he (Lando) ignores her, thinking she is jealous, but what he (Lando) didn't know was that Sn (Lando's best friend) is secretly dating Magui's ex-boyfriend (João Félix) and that's why she knows everything Magui did

(I'm sorry if it's not written correctly, English is not my first language)

should’ve listened - LN4

Masterlist

summary: lando brings magui corceiro to meet his best friend. what he doesn’t expect is the tension. the warnings. the truth she tries to tell him about magui’s past. and what he really, really doesn’t know — is that she knows because she’s been secretly dating magui’s ex, joão félix, for months. warnings: mentions of infidelity, hidden relationships, jealousy accusations, angst, emotional manipulation, blind trust, tension between characters, eventual fallout

Note: this is fictional, based on rumours, hate should not be normalised and plz don't hate me for writing this... if you don't want to read, then move on, I have plenty more fics you can read!🫶🏼

You knew she would be beautiful.

It’s part of her brand. Big eyes. Big lips. Tighter waist. Tighter clothes. Legs that go on forever and that rehearsed little laugh like she’s always being watched. You knew what to expect the minute Lando said her name, and it didn’t disappoint.

She looks like a screensaver. She smiles like she owns the room. And she looks at you like she knows exactly who the fuck you are. Which, of course, she does.

Because you’ve been dating João Félix for the past five months. And you know every single thing she did to him.

Every lie. Every message. Every football player she slept with while he was on the road. Every argument, every fake tear, every fucking time she denied it. You know it all because João told you. Because João still flinches when her name comes up. Because João wakes up gasping sometimes, guilt cracking his voice even when he didn’t do anything wrong.

So yeah.

When Lando introduces you to her, grinning, oblivious, in love, you feel like you’re going to be sick. “Magui, this is my best friend. The one I was telling you about.”

She tilts her head like a cat. “The best friend.”

You blink. Smile, plastic. “Pleasure.”

Her gaze lingers too long. She knows. She knows. Lando doesn’t notice. Of course he fucking doesn’t.

You try once. The next morning. Hungover in hotel pyjamas, curled on the balcony of his suite.

He’s sipping orange juice. You’re chewing on the edge of your nail. “Lando.”

He hums.

“Can we talk about her for a second?”

He stills.

You take a breath. “I’m not judging. I swear. But I know things. About her. From before.”

He looks at you. And you already know it’s a mistake. “What things?”

You hesitate. “She wasn’t good to her last boyfriend.”

Lando frowns. “And how would you know that?”

“I just do.”

“From where? Twitter? Gossip pages?”

You go silent.

He sighs. “Come on. You’ve never even met her before yesterday.”

“I have.”

That gets his attention. You lie. “Once. In Portugal. It was awkward.”

His voice hardens. “So this is personal.”

“No,” you say, too quickly. “I just think she’s- she’s not what you think she is.”

He’s quiet. Then, after a beat, “I think you’re jealous.”

You flinch. “What?”

“You always get weird when I’m seeing someone.”

“That’s not true.”

“You didn’t like Lou either. Or that girl from Miami.”

“Because they were awful.”

“Maybe because they weren’t you.”

You stand. Furious. Hurt. “Fuck you, Lando.”

He shrugs. You storm out.

João picks up on the second ring.

You don’t say anything. He just listens to your breathing and says, gently, “He didn’t listen, did he?”

Your voice cracks. “He thinks I’m jealous.”

João sighs. “Of her?”

You laugh. It sounds like crying.

He adds, “I’ll fly to Monaco. I’ll tell him myself if you want.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because then he’ll find out about us.”

He’s quiet for a long time.

Then, “You’re worth it.”

You close your eyes. And say nothing

It takes exactly two weeks for everything to burn.

Zak makes a joke in the garage. Something about McLaren’s golden boy bringing his “Portuguese sunshine” to the Monaco race.

The words slip out before you can stop them. “She’s not sunshine. She’s fucking acid rain.”

Silence. Lando hears. And when he finds you after media, he’s not smiling. “You have got to get over this.”

You glare at him. “Over what? Wanting to protect you?”

“You’re making shit up.”

“I’m not-”

“She loves me.”

You snort. “She loved João too.”

His jaw clenches. “And now we’re back to this ex.” He steps forward. “Who is he? Huh? Who told you all this? Who’s poisoning your fucking head?”

You don’t say a word. That’s your mistake. Because silence? Is an answer.

His eyes widen. Disbelief. “No. No fucking way.”

You look down.

He chokes. “You’re fucking him?”

Still, you don’t respond. He takes a step back like you hit him. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Lando-”

“You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

“No, I was trying to warn you.”

He’s shaking. “You’re sleeping with my girlfriend’s ex and trying to tell me who she is?”

“She cheated on him, Lando.”

He laughs. Cold. Bitter. “And you believed him. Because you were fucking him.”

You flinch.

“I trusted you,” he spits. “You’re my best friend. And you lied to my face.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You just didn’t tell the truth.”

He turns. Leaves you standing there. And for the first time in your whole life, you don’t go after him.

The fallout is ugly. He soft-launches her on Instagram the same night. You stay quiet.

João begs you to post a photo of you together. To show the truth. To prove you weren’t being cruel for no reason.

But you don’t. You just let it all play out. And it doesn’t take long.

The first rumour comes in a DM. Some influencer in Madrid. Her friend saw Magui with a footballer two nights ago.

Then a second. Then three in one day.

João’s phone lights up. Again. And again. And again.

“She’s doing it again,” he says quietly. “He’s going to get wrecked.”

You nod. You want to be wrong. But you’re not.

Because two days before Silverstone, Lando shows up at your door. Eyes bloodshot. Knuckles raw.

He doesn’t say anything. Just hands you his phone. A message thread.

From Magui.

She sent the wrong screenshot. Or maybe she meant to.

Either way, it’s her. Messaging someone else. Explicit. Reckless. Gloating.

You don’t say I told you so. You just pull him in. Let him cry.

“I thought you were jealous,” he whispers later, curled in your sheets.

You’re stroking his hair. “I know.”

“I thought I knew everything about you.”

“You do.”

He’s quiet. Then, “How long?”

“With João?”

He nods.

“Five months.”

He exhales.

Then, “He’s good to you?”

You nod. “Better than I ever thought I deserved.”

Lando smiles. “Good.”

And then, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

You kiss his forehead. “I was always going to be here when you did.”

#lando norris x platonic reader #joao felix x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 drama #magui corceiro #reader is lando's best friend #secret relationship #protective best friend #reader x joao felix #lando x best friend #f1 angst #emotional damage #reader was right #should’ve listened #chaotic girls truth era

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grandelando · 2 months ago

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Lando and Magui don’t have to confirm or deny a single thing to you. You are not entitled to nor do you deserve to know anything about their personal lives. They don’t owe you that. At all. For any reason. Ever. They could be together for the rest of time and never have to say a damn thing about it publicly. I don’t know who you think you are but a ridiculous amount of you need to get so over yourselves.

#lando norris #magui corceiro

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fangirlfuel · 7 months ago

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His True Love

----

Word count: ~2,500

Summary: Fans speculate endlessly about Lando’s relationship with Magui Corceiro, but they’re way off the mark. He’s actually dating Magui’s cousin, Amélia,, a private and shy soul. After months of keeping their relationship under wraps, Lando decides her birthday is the perfect time to introduce her to the world.

---

The light from Lando’s phone illuminated his face as he scrolled through Instagram, his jaw tightening at the captions and comments under yet another photo of Magui Corceiro with his group of friends.

User4: It’s so obvious they’re together.

User3: Lando and Magui? I ship it!

User7: Power couple energy!

He sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. It was the same thing over and over. Fans had latched onto the idea of him and Magui being together simply because she appeared in group photos and videos.

Amélia’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, her soft hazel eyes meeting his. She was wearing one of his oversized hoodies, her golden-brown waves spilling over her shoulders, and her presence alone eased the tension in his chest.

“It’s just the fans,” he admitted, motioning for her to join him.

She padded over, sitting cross-legged beside him. “Still think you’re with Magui?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s annoying.”

Amélia gave him a small smile, her shy demeanor never wavering. “Well, they don’t know about me. It’s not their fault.”

“But it’s frustrating,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with her when I have you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. “I don’t mind staying out of the spotlight, Lando. It’s not worth the attention oor the drama.”

He frowned. While he understood her preference for privacy, he hated that their relationship was invisible to the world. She was the best part of his life, and he wanted people to know.

---

As weeks passed, the speculation grew worse. Every time Magui was seen with his friends, social media erupted with theories.

User9: Magui is so lucky.

User5: When will Lando finally confirm her?

User1: They’re literally perfect together.

It didn’t help that Amélia was nowhere to be found in his public life. She didn’t appear at races, avoided social media, and steered clear of situations where cameras might catch her.

One evening, as they curled up on the couch, Lando couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself any longer.

“I think I want to post about us,” he said, his voice steady but tentative.

Amélia blinked up at him, her expression soft but surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “It’s your birthday soon, and I want to celebrate you properly. Not just between us but with everyone.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Lando… your fans can be brutal. I don’t want you to deal with that.”

“They’ll love you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “And even if they don’t, I don’t care. You mean everything to me, Amélia. I want the world to know how lucky I am.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and though she was still nervous, she trusted him. “Okay,” she whispered.

His face lit up with a grin, and he pulled her into his arms. “Best decision ever.”

---

The day of her birthday, Lando posted a carousel of photos on Instagram. Each one captured a special moment between them, moments that had remained hidden from the world until now.

Lando Happy birthday to my everything. You’re the kindest, most beautiful, and incredible person I’ve ever known. Thank you for making me the luckiest guy in the world. Love you forever Amélia. 🧡

Within minutes, his post went viral. Fans flooded the comments, their reactions a chaotic mix of shock, curiosity, and adoration.

---

User21: WHO IS SHE?!

User11: Wait… this isn’t Magui?

User76: She’s stunning omg.

User44:I KNEW IT. Lando wasn’t dating Magui. They didn’t have the vibe.

User54: She looks so sweet and shy. I love her already.

User27:Protect Amélia at all costs.

Amélia scrolled through the comments with wide eyes, her nerves easing as she realized the overwhelming positivity.

She turned to Lando, who was lounging beside her with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“See? I told you they’d love you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Not all of them,” she replied, though her tone was light.

“They don’t matter,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What matters is that now everyone knows you’re mine.”

She laughed softly, leaning into his embrace. “I guess they do.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice full of affection. “Happy birthday, love.”

---

#lando norris #f1 x female reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x oc #lando x reader #f1 x reader #x reader #oneshot #lando norris one shot #magui corceiro #fluff #one shot fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #ln4 #ln4 one shot

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ssentimentals · 4 months ago

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there are lots of things wrong with hating on wags/possible girlfriends of drivers, but the one which is the most baffling for me is how fans are acting like drivers have no idea who they are dating. all these “she is evil and he’s an angel” comments are making me gag, since when we are turning these grown adults into babies with zero ability to make conscious decisions regarding their own personal lives? even if all these rumors about their partners are true and these wags are truly so horrible (very doubtful) - your favorite drivers know it all (unless they are exceedingly dense). your favorite drivers are actively dating/choosing these women every day, so what does it say of them? what does it make of them? don’t even get me started how majority of them done things worse than whatever you’re claiming their partners did

#f1 #formula 1 #can we not hate on women and act like men are ANGELS AND INNOCENT AND FELL VICTIMS TO THESE WOMEN #gonna tag with drivers that get the most shit for their partners so #lando norris #george russell #carlos sainz jr #max verstappen #charles leclerc #hate for magui is INSANE #chill guys like lando knows. he knows all these themes and he still is with her.#like…let it go. pls #text post

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mablueprls · 2 months ago

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i will fucking SCREAM because oh my god

can we just fucking stop showing magui everywhere??? people see a pretty face and fucking forget how much of a bad person she is.

i'm going to SCREAM

f1 tv, just stop. or put a trigger warning. i don't care.

#f1 #lando norris #magui corceiro #like??? besides being a cheater #she's also racist???

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landinrris · 9 hours ago

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Smiling and laughing Lando on his way into the paddock this morning

#I'm like Thanos seeing no one post these: fine I'll do it myself #sorry they're objectively good/sweet photos and they're now gonna live on my blog #lando norris #hungary 2025 #magui c #lando #f1

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pucksandpebbles · 2 months ago

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why does sky keep showing me clips of magui during Lando’s lap. get tf off my screen I just wanna watch the lap 😭😭

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #ln4 #mclaren #monaco gp 2025 #monaco grand prix #magui corceiro #are we serious rn #I am so done #sky move your camera

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cheftsunoda · 16 days ago

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hey baby <3

so after reading the kimi one today, i was wondering if you could do one for a underweight reader since one of my biggest insecurities growing up has been how skinny and bony i am. if possible could you do a lando x magui x reader or js a lando x reader :) ilysm angel <33

💋💋

just the way you are — ln4 + magui

written blurbs

lando norris x reader x magui corceiro

some days, you don’t even notice it. other days, it feels like all you see—sharp collarbones, thin wrists, the way your jeans never quite fit right. you’ve always been skinny, but not the kind people envy. the kind that makes you feel like you’re missing something. like you’re unfinished.

lately, the mirror’s been cruel. you try to hide it, but magui always knows. and lando? he doesn’t ask questions—he just pulls you into his arms like that’s where you’ve always belonged.

they love you like you’re whole. and someday you will come to see yourself, exactly how they see you.

(a/n) : MY BABY IS HERE. MY PERFECT POOKIE PRINCESS IS IN MY INBOX AND I GOT ON THIS REQUEST AS SOON AS I SAW IT. i love you so so much and i hope you know that you are always so perfect and so beautiful to me. you are so strong and thank you for trusting me enough to share with me and i appreciate you and love you so so so so much. hope you enjoy beautiful angel!!

—

You loved days like this—sunlight spilling over the peach-colored rooftops of Monaco, Magui’s hand looped through yours, and Lando trailing just behind with a camera slung over his shoulder and a smile he seemed to save just for the two of you. It was a slow day, a quiet one, and the three of you had decided to wander the old streets and do a little shopping before lunch by the water.

It was all light and lovely until you stepped into the little boutique on Rue Grimaldi.

It was the kind of place that smelled like fresh linen and citrus, with racks of flowy dresses and cropped knits that looked effortless on the hanger. Magui was already glowing, holding up a silky green piece and laughing. She tossed it over her arm and nudged you toward the changing rooms.

“Try it on with this skirt, baby. You’d look so good,” she grinned, handing you a delicate white piece that tied at the waist.

You smiled back—small, unsure—but nodded and disappeared into the changing room with it.

It wasn’t immediate. You slipped into the top, adjusted the skirt. At first glance, it didn’t look bad. But the longer you stared, the more your eyes zeroed in on the way your collarbones jutted out too much, the way your ribs cast shadows under the lighting, how the waistband of the skirt seemed to hang more than hug. There was nothing wrong, but it didn’t feel right.

You shifted, looking at yourself from the side. Tugged at the top. Tried to smooth your hands down your arms, as if they’d suddenly gain softness or weight under your touch.

You didn’t hear the curtain open—Magui’s soft voice just floated in, warm and careful.

“Hey, you okay?”

You blinked quickly and nodded, but your throat was tight. You kept your arms crossed over your midsection.

“It doesn’t fit right,” you mumbled, eyes trained on your feet. “Everything just looks… wrong. I look like a hanger. I hate it.”

In a heartbeat, Magui was in the room with you, gentle fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as she met your eyes in the mirror

“Hey. Don’t do that,” she said softly, her brows drawing together. “You don’t look like a hanger. You look like you. And you are—god, you are so beautiful, just like this.”

Your lips parted, but the words caught. You didn’t want to cry. You hated crying in public places.

Then Lando’s voice joined, muffled slightly as he hovered near the curtain. “Can I come in?”

Magui glanced at you. You nodded.

He stepped in and saw you—really saw you—and his whole expression melted. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He just came up behind you, warm arms looping gently around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Love,” he murmured, “you’re not made to fit clothes. Clothes are supposed to fit you. And if they don’t, screw the clothes.”

You laughed weakly, blinking against the sting in your eyes. Magui leaned in and kissed the top of your cheekbone, trailing a thumb under your eye to wipe away what threatened to fall.

“We love this you,” she whispered. “The you who feels things. The you who thinks her bones show too much. The you who tries things on and lets us love her anyway.”

Lando squeezed you closer from behind, his voice quieter now. “You don’t have to change for us to love you. You don’t have to look any different for us to stay.”

For a long moment, you just stood there—held between them, wrapped in the warmth of their words, their arms, their love. And slowly, your chest loosened. The ache in your heart didn’t vanish, but it didn’t feel as heavy anymore.

Eventually, Magui kissed your shoulder and said, “Let’s leave this place. We’ll get iced coffees and go down to the marina. There’s a vintage market. And I saw a linen set that would kill on you.”

Lando nodded, grinning against your neck. “And I’ll carry everything so you don’t have to.”

You smiled, small but real this time, and nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

—

The breeze at the marina was salt-sweet and soft on your skin, tugging gently at Magui’s hair and sending Lando’s cap sideways every few seconds. The three of you walked slowly past the white yachts and sun-drenched café umbrellas, iced coffees in hand, the earlier heaviness still lingering but quieter now—muted beneath the sound of waves and laughter in the distance.

You weren’t saying much. But you didn’t have to.

Lando’s hand brushed against yours every so often, pinkies tangling for a second at a time. Magui had tucked her arm around your waist, resting her cheek briefly against your shoulder when she thought you weren’t paying attention. You were always paying attention.

Every soft touch, every glance—they weren’t pitying. They were grounding. Steady. They were the kind of love that didn’t ask you to smile to be worthy of care.

You stopped by a little vintage stall set up near the edge of the boardwalk, rows of old sunglasses and linen shirts flapping gently in the wind. Magui wandered ahead to dig through a basket of scarves, and Lando lingered behind with you, finishing his drink.

“You feeling a bit better?” he asked gently, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

You nodded, chewing on the edge of your straw. “A little.”

He didn’t push. He just offered a tiny smile and reached up to brush his knuckles against your cheek.

“You don’t have to fake anything with us. Ever. Okay?”

Your throat tightened again—not like before. Not with shame. With love. Overwhelming, full to the brim love.

“I know,” you whispered. “I just… sometimes I feel like I’m too small to hold it all. The love. The attention. Like I’m not built for it.”

Lando’s face fell for a second before softening again, impossibly gentle.

“You don’t have to hold it,” he said. “Let us hold you. That’s the whole point.”

Magui came back over, looping a silk scarf through her belt loop with one hand and slipping her fingers into yours with the other.

“She’ll say something sweet and ruin me again, won’t she?” you teased, already smiling as you leaned into her side.

Magui raised a brow. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But if I did, I might say that you’re the most beautiful person on this boardwalk—and Monaco doesn’t exactly make that easy.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing quietly, but the smile stayed this time. Lando kissed the top of your head and pulled you both into his side.

“Let’s stay here a little longer,” he murmured. “Just us. No mirrors. No clothes that don’t fit. Just sun, and sea, and two people who love you so much it physically hurts.”

And so you stayed.

Sitting on the dock with your legs dangling over the edge, Lando’s hoodie wrapped around your shoulders, Magui’s hand tracing lazy shapes into your thigh. Boats drifted by. The sky softened into pink. Your bones still showed—but they didn’t feel wrong. Not here. Not like this.

Not when you were surrounded by love that didn’t just see you—it chose you. Every version. Every time.

—

By the time you got home, the sky was navy and full of stars, the scent of the sea still clinging to your hair and clothes. The house was quiet—doors open to let the night breeze in, music playing low from the speaker in the kitchen. The kind of music you didn’t have to think about. Just soft piano and the occasional hum of a voice too far away to recognize.

You were curled on the couch in one of Lando’s hoodies, sleeves falling past your hands, bare legs tucked under you. Your cheek rested against a throw pillow, half-drowsy from sun and salt and the emotional hangover that always followed days like this. You weren’t sad. Just… soft. Fragile in a way that didn’t feel scary anymore.

Magui walked into the room with a cup of tea, her long hair pulled up in a messy bun, cheeks pink from her evening shower. She set the mug in front of you before sitting on the floor between your knees, her back leaning into the couch, head resting against your thigh.

“You doing okay now, amor?” she asked, glancing up at you.

You nodded, your fingers naturally reaching out for her. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Lando came in a moment later with a towel around his neck and damp curls pushed back from his forehead. He spotted you immediately—huddled into the couch, Magui tucked into your side—and his face softened in that way it always did around you.

He sat behind you on the couch, pulling you between his legs, arms wrapping around your waist. His chest was warm against your back, and you melted into him instinctively.

“Comfort sandwich,” Magui murmured with a grin, making you laugh for the first time in hours.

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “The best kind.”

The three of you stayed like that for a while—Magui humming softly as she traced lazy patterns on your knee, Lando’s thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your sides. Every touch was light, easy, grounding. No one tried to fix you. No one tried to change how you felt.

They just stayed.

After a while, Lando rested his chin on your shoulder and whispered, “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with us, you know that, right?”

You nodded.

“And if your brain ever tries to lie to you again,” Magui added, looking up at you with that fiery, loyal expression she got when she loved you too hard to keep it quiet, “just come to us. We’ll remind you who the fuck you are.”

You smiled, blinking back tears that didn’t sting anymore. You didn’t feel broken. You just felt held.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Magui kissed your knee. Lando kissed your shoulder.

And later, when the tea had gone cold and the night grew quiet, you fell asleep wrapped between them in the bed you all shared—nothing mattered.

Not when love wrapped around you like a second skin.

Not when you finally, finally started to believe it was yours to keep.

—

You woke slowly, sun filtering through the gauzy curtains, the scent of something sweet wafting in from the kitchen—vanilla, maybe cinnamon, something warm and nostalgic. Your eyes fluttered open, face half-buried in Lando’s pillow, his arm still slung around your waist, legs tangled under the blanket.

Magui was already up, judging by the faint hum of her voice somewhere down the hall. You could hear her singing softly—off-key in a way that made you smile into the sheets.

You stretched lazily, body sore in that quiet, content way that came with a good night’s sleep and the softness of feeling truly loved. Lando groaned and shifted beside you, eyes still closed as he blindly reached for your hand.

“You’re not allowed to move yet,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Five more minutes.”

You laughed softly and kissed his temple. “Come on, sleepy. I smell pancakes.”

He perked up instantly. “Pancakes?”

You nodded. “And possibly—coffee.”

Lando sat up like a cartoon character, curls wild and eyes barely open. “Say less.”

You padded into the kitchen together, still in oversized tees and bare feet. Magui stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with an exaggerated flourish, wearing one of your tank tops and a pair of Lando’s boxers. She looked over her shoulder and grinned.

“Perfect timing. Breakfast and a surprise.”

You blinked, confused but curious, while Lando moved behind you, hands resting gently on your hips.

Magui set a plate in front of you at the table—pancakes shaped like uneven hearts, a tiny mountain of strawberries and cream on top.

“Ta-da,” she said proudly. “And now…”

She disappeared into the hallway for a moment, then came back holding something wrapped in brown paper and tied with a velvet ribbon.

“Wait,” you said, furrowing your brow. “What is this?”

Magui gently placed it in front of you, and Lando leaned in, his chin on your shoulder again.

“Just open it,” he whispered, kissing the side of your neck.

You untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper, revealing a hardcover scrapbook. The cover had a polaroid taped to it—one of you laughing in the sun, eyes squinting and hair windblown, clearly caught mid-moment.

You opened it slowly.

The first page had a note, handwritten in Magui’s neat script—

For when your mind forgets how we see you.

The pages that followed made your chest ache—in the best, most soul-filling way. Photos Lando had taken, sometimes without you realizing. You curled up on the balcony with a book. You dancing in the kitchen in your socks. You curled against Magui’s side, fast asleep. You smiling into the camera, mouth open mid-laugh, hair messy, face bare.

Each photo had little scribbles in the corners.

Caught her humming to herself again. I’ll never get over this face.

My favorite human being.

The most beautiful angel in the world.

Magui had filled in the spaces with memories, doodles, pressed flowers, ticket stubs, little heart stickers and glittery stars.

You ran your fingers over the pages like they were sacred.

“I—” Your voice caught. “You made this for me?”

Lando nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “She put it all together. I just… took the pictures. Couldn’t help it. You’re my favorite thing to photograph.”

Magui sat beside you and kissed your shoulder. “We just wanted you to have something to hold. On the hard days. Something that shows you what we see.”

You blinked back tears, looking down at the book like it was magic. Maybe it was.

You turned back to them, heart heavy in the most beautiful way.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Magui murmured.

Lando grinned. “But if you do, I’d like to suggest something like, ‘Wow, my two partners are actually geniuses and also outrageously hot.’”

You laughed, full and warm, and kissed him square on the mouth before turning to Magui and kissing her just as deeply.

“Thank you,” you whispered between kisses. “Thank you for loving me so well.”

They both pulled you in tighter, your breakfast forgotten, the scrapbook safely cradled in your lap like a lifeline.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like too little.

You felt full. Of love. Of warmth. Of exactly enough.

—

You hadn’t even finished your matcha when Magui leaned across the table and whispered, “Lando’s banned from today.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

She smirked, sunglasses sliding down her nose. “He said—and I quote—‘Magui, please distract our girl for a few hours, I’ve got something to do.’” She leaned back, looking smug. “So now I get you all to myself.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this why he made me wear something nice to go out? He was being suspiciously complimentary this morning.”

Magui just hummed as she pulled you down the sun-soaked street. “Shut up and look pretty.”

And so the two of you wandered—through art galleries tucked into old corners of the city, into bookstores with handwritten notes tucked into the pages of used novels, stopping for fresh fruit at the market stalls and splitting a croissant outside a florist that smelled like heaven. Magui had you laughing until your cheeks hurt, making up backstories for strangers you passed, trying on ridiculous sunglasses, and pulling you into every mirror you passed to kiss your cheek and whisper, “Mine.”

It felt easy. Safe. Not a single flicker of insecurity—just the sunshine on your skin, the taste of strawberry on your lips, and Magui’s fingers interlaced with yours like they were made to be there.

Around mid-afternoon, after picking out matching rings at a little boutique “just because they’re pretty,” she checked her phone and grinned.

“Alright,” she said, slipping her phone into her purse. “He’s ready for us.”

You blinked. “Ready for us?”

She looped her arm through yours again, steering you toward the coast.

“Oh, you thought this was just a girls’ day?” she teased. “Baby, I was the distraction. Lando’s the plan.”

You could only blink, heart starting to pound—not with nerves, but with a slow, warm thrill.

“What did he do?”

Magui smirked. “Not telling.”

—

The second you stepped into the apartment, something felt different. Not in a bad way. In that warm, belly-tingling, “someone’s been planning something” kind of way.

There was music playing softly in the background—your favorite, of course. Magui guided you gently through the foyer, shooting you the kind of smile that said, just wait. You looked at her with furrowed brows, your chest already fluttering.

“Lan?” you called, unsure of where he was.

“Bedroom,” his voice called out, a little breathless. “Come here.”

You turned the corner and stopped in the doorway—your breath caught. The entire bedroom had been transformed. A rolling rack stood near the window, golden hour sun spilling over rows of hanging garments—dresses, tops, trousers, soft knits, silk pieces in your favorite tones and textures. Everything looked perfectly tailored, not a single thing generic or off-the-rack. Delicate stitching. Impeccable fabrics.

And beside it, Lando stood with the widest, softest grin, his curls still damp from the shower, hands tucked sheepishly in his pockets.

“What… what is this?” you whispered, blinking slowly.

He stepped toward you and kissed your cheek. “This is your new wardrobe. Custom made. One of the best designers in the world owes me a favor. I figured… if clothes aren’t going to make you feel good, then maybe it’s because they weren’t made for you. So—now they are.”

You felt your throat tighten, tears already threatening to burn behind your eyes.

“You did this for me?”

He nodded. “Every single piece is made to your measurements. No pinching. No gaping. No pretending your body has to fit someone else’s mold.”

Magui grinned and stepped forward, pulling a soft dusty-blue set from the rack. “This one. Try this one. Please. It’s so you.”

You took it with trembling hands and disappeared into the bathroom to change. And when you stepped back out…

It fit. Perfectly. Like a second skin. Like it had been waiting its whole life for your body to fill it.

You turned to glance at the tag inside the top, half curious—and gasped softly.

On the inside seam was a small embroidered message—

made to hold the girl we love.

Your eyes burned again. You hadn’t even made it to the mirror yet.

“Go look,” Lando said behind you, voice quiet, reverent.

You turned slowly toward the full-length mirror across the room… and froze.

The glass was covered—not obscured, but surrounded—by dozens, maybe hundreds of tiny notes. Bright sticky notes, scraps of old receipts, torn pieces of notebook paper. They curled slightly at the edges, all handwritten in messy ink.

Magui’s familiar script. Lando’s all-caps scrawl.

If I could be reborn, I’d ask to orbit you.

There’s nothing you need to fix. Not a thing.

You’re my favorite shape.

You make space feel like home.

We love you. Just as you are. Always.

You stared at your reflection, surrounded by love in its rawest form. There were your bones. Your edges. Your lines. The parts you sometimes hated.

And around it all—wrapped in it—were their words.

Their truth.

You turned slowly, tears finally spilling over, and both of them were already there.

Magui cupped your face with both hands, her thumbs brushing under your eyes. “You don’t have to look like anyone else. You never did.”

Lando kissed your shoulder, his voice soft behind you. “You’re ours. Just like this. You’re enough. More than enough.”

You let yourself believe it. Just for a moment. You believed it. And in that mirror, framed by love, you smiled. Really smiled. Not for the clothes. Not for the notes. But for you.

—

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formulafanfics13 · 1 month ago

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Hi Evie, i love You’re writing. I wanted to ask if you could write something with Lando when you’re Bradley Coopers daughter and you met a few years ago when you attended an F1 Race and since then you have been great friends and go too two-three race weekends every year and on you’re first race weekend 2025 you not only meet up with Lando but end up meeting Magui and you two like each other from the first second after the qualifying you and Magui decide to drink some cocktails in you’re hotel room and as you’re both drunk she asks you if you ever thought of having sex with Lando and you can’t help but laugh that would probably end up in an disaster but it would be fun and as you look over at Magui her blue eyes shining with mischief and blurting out that it would kill Lando if he knew that she kissed you before him. Much Love❤️

okay this idea was 😙👌

Monaco, Baby - Magui Corceiro (LN4) 🔥

Masterlist

Summary: It’s the Monaco GP, and Bradley Cooper’s elusive daughter makes her first paddock appearance of the season — back to cause chaos as Lando Norris’s long-time best friend and the grid’s favourite ghost. But this time, Lando’s maybe-girlfriend Magui is also there. Sparks fly not between Lando and the OC, but between Magui and her instead. After a flirty paddock encounter, they share drinks post-qualifying and Magui surprises her with a kiss, teasing that it would kill Lando to know she got there first. Lust and laughter spiral into a kiss that turns heated, leaving Lando clueless and the air thick with forbidden tension.

Warnings: bisexual tension, tequila-fueled kissing, jealousy kink implications, flirtation, OC kissing her best friend’s maybe-girlfriend, secret attraction, mild alcohol use, brewing chaos, implied future smut

It started the way it always did. Sun on your shoulders. VIP pass swinging against your chest. Engine noise humming low through the paddock like a living thing. Lando texting every five minutes like he didn’t know how to chill before qualifying.

Lando: WHERE ARE YOU Have you landed Have you eaten I swear to god if you miss quali I’ll fight your dad

Your dad. Bradley Fucking Cooper. Currently on a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean. In tinted sunglasses. Drinking something pink and organic and pretending he didn’t once shoot someone in a Clint Eastwood movie.

You, on the other hand, were threading through the paddock in vintage Levi’s, a cropped Ferrari tee (ironic, because you were Lando's best friend always), and $700 sunglasses. It was your first race weekend of the season, you usually did two or three a year, depending on the chaos of your schedule and your dad’s privacy obsession. The grid called you The Ghost because you only showed up occasionally, always caused a stir, and then disappeared again without a trace.

But Lando? Lando you always saw. You’d met him three years ago, half-hidden behind your dad at the Miami GP. He’d made a dumb joke about espresso martinis, and you’d called him a white boy with a death wish. It had been love ever since.

Not that kind of love. Not yet. You were best friends. Chaos twins. He was the only person who could make you laugh while jet-lagged and hungover, and you were the only one who could get him to stop obsessing over telemetry data long enough to eat something green.

He was texting again.

Lando: Paddock entrance. Now. I’m sending someone if you don’t hurry.

You were already behind McLaren hospitality when you spotted him. Capped, suited, agitated. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned as you walked up. “Do you know how stressful it is trying to manage a race weekend and find a missing Cooper at the same time?”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around him. “Hi to you too, Norris.”

He smelled like sweat and sunscreen and that expensive cologne he pretended not to care about. He hugged you tighter than usual. “You look good,” he said, stepping back to look at you.

You did. You always did. But hearing him say it made something stupid flutter in your chest. “You look fast,” you teased. “And stressed.”

“I am stressed.”

“Because it’s Monaco?”

“No. Because you’re here and I don’t know what chaos you’re about to unleash.”

You smirked. “Fair.”

He reached for your pass, adjusting it so the barcode was visible. He always did that. Always fussed. Always touched. Like he couldn’t not. “You’re watching quali from the garage,” he said. “Already cleared it with Andrea. But if you cause a scene, I’m leaving you in the motorhome.”

“Relax,” you said, looping your arm through his. “I’m on my best behaviour.”

Lando snorted. “That’s exactly what scares me.” Then, “Oh. And someone’s dying to meet you.”

You turned your head, already suspicious. “Who?”

“She’s here for the weekend. You’ll like her.”

And that’s when you saw her. Magui.

The Magui. The girl the press was obsessed with. Lando’s maybe-girlfriend. Rumoured situationship. The one who never spoke on camera, never posted him, never let herself be seen too close. You’d never met her. Hadn’t even asked. Maybe a part of you hadn’t wanted to.

But now she was walking toward you. And holy fuck, she was gorgeous. Soft blonde waves. Blue eyes that caught the sun like glass. Black satin slip dress. Gold hoops. The kind of smile that made you instantly want to know her secrets.

She walked right up to you. “You must be her,” she said.

You blinked. “Her?”

“The friend. The one he’s obsessed with.”

You laughed. “Depends who you ask.”

Magui smiled, holding out her hand. “I’m Magui.”

“I’m-”

“I know who you are,” she said, leaning in like she was about to tell you a scandal. “Bradley Cooper’s daughter. Lando’s soulmate. The girl who made Pierre Gasly cry in Singapore.”

You grinned. “He deserved it.”

“I heard that too.”

And just like that, chemistry. Unspoken. Instant. Not flirtatious, not yet. Just something. Connection. Electric.

Lando watched you both, brow furrowed like he didn’t quite know what he was looking at. “Why do I feel like I’m about to get left out of my own triangle?” he muttered.

You and Magui both smiled at him, perfectly synchronised. It was sickening. He looked like he wanted to throttle someone. Probably Pierre. Or himself. She looked back at you. “You staying in the hotel tonight?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Same one.”

“Wanna drink after quali?”

Her smile turned sharp. “Only if you promise to get a little drunk.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t think I can keep up?”

“Oh, I hope you can.”

Lando made a strangled noise.

Magui winked. “See you later.” And just like that, she was gone.

You turned to Lando, grinning. “Okay, what the fuck.”

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

You smirked. “What, you don’t like your girlfriend and your best friend vibing?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

“She’s… it’s complicated.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And if we get drinks without you?”

“I’ll kill you both.”

“Hmm.”

You started walking toward the garage.

Lando groaned behind you. “This is a nightmare.”

You didn’t look back. Because you were already thinking about what Magui’s mouth would taste like after a cocktail.

It started with rosé. You weren’t even planning to drink. The sun had fried your brain, qualifying had been tense, and you’d spent the better part of ten minutes watching Lando pace the motorhome like a feral animal. He was annoyed at the car, at himself, at the fact that you and Magui had made direct eye contact and giggled like you were sharing secrets. You weren’t. Not yet. But you were close.

She found you after media. Hair up. Skin glowing. Eyes sparkling like she'd just been dared to do something reckless. “You still up for that drink?” she asked, twisting a hair tie around her wrist.

You nodded. “Let me shower first.”

“Room 718. I’ll bring the ice.”

She turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway. Ten minutes later, you were knocking on her door in an oversized t-shirt and linen shorts, skin still warm from the water, wet hair leaving trails down your back.

The door opened. The lights were low. Jazz, of all fucking things, played softly from a Bluetooth speaker. Magui stood barefoot in a matching silk pyjama set the colour of bruised plums, her cheek slightly flushed. “Hope you’re not picky,” she said, holding up a bottle. “All I could find was tequila and minibar rosé.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Worst case, we black out and blame the FIA.”

She laughed, handing you a glass. Her nails were painted sky blue. You noticed that immediately. The first sip went down easy. The second easier. You sat on the window ledge, knees tucked up, watching the Monaco lights blur like fireflies. She curled up on the bed, long legs crossed, her drink forgotten on the side table. She was watching you.

“I still don’t know what to make of you,” she said softly.

You turned to her. “What does that mean?”

“You’re his best friend. But you’re not…”

“Not what?”

“Not just his best friend.”

You smirked. “What am I then?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away. Just reached for the tequila and poured yourself another. She didn’t stop you. Didn’t stop staring. Eventually, she leaned back against the pillows, bare feet kicked up, eyes half-lidded. “Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Always.”

“Have you ever thought about sleeping with him?”

That made you laugh. Loud and sudden. “God, no.”

She tilted her head. “No?”

You shook your head, trying to stop giggling. “I mean- okay, maybe in theory. But in practice? Disaster.”

“Why?”

“Because we’d fuck once and then he’d spiral and I’d get banned from every McLaren debrief for life.”

She grinned. “So you’ve thought about it.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve had dreams where he says telemetry in bed, if that counts.”

Magui bit her lip. Her eyes flicked to your mouth. Then she leaned forward, her voice suddenly low. Intimate. Dangerous. “You know it would kill him, right?”

Your brows lifted. “What?”

“If he knew I kissed you before he ever got the chance.”

And then she kissed you. Just like that. No build-up. No hesitation. Just her mouth on yours, soft and urgent, like she’d been waiting all fucking day. Like something in her had been burning since the second you smiled at her in the paddock and she’d finally decided to stop pretending otherwise.

Her hand slid to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. She tasted like lime and pink wine and bad decisions. When she pulled back, your breath was gone. She didn’t move far. Just stared at you, her voice barely above a whisper. “That okay?”

You blinked. Nodded once. “Do it again.”

She did. This time slower. With teeth and tongue. With a little moan she couldn’t bite back when your hand found her waist and pulled her closer.

You tasted her smile. “You’re dangerous,” you murmured.

She laughed against your lips. “So are you.”

Then her fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt and the entire Monaco skyline might as well have disappeared. Somewhere down the hall, Lando was probably cursing at the ceiling. Tired. Grumpy. Jealous and too dumb to know why.

But in Room 718? You were kissing the girl he couldn’t claim. And she was kissing the girl he never could.

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