cutielando

[cutielando]

news.

hi guys.

you’ve probably noticed i’ve been kind of off the grid in the past period or so, and i come bearing even more bad news.

unfortunately, i have been dealing with some personal problems, which have just today gotten a whole lot worse. i’m having some issues, family issues to be exact, and i’m not in the right mind space to deal with this account in my current state.

i don’t know what i’m going to do, i have a lot of things on my plate and i don’t know how i’m going to deal with everything right now.

with that being said, my presence on here is going to possibly be very scarce in the upcoming period, seeing as i have to find a way out of a very deep hole i’m in right now.

i’ll be back soon, just please bear with me and stick with me 🤍

thank you guys.

love u xoxo

[cutielando]

Hello 👋 how are you?

Could i request one where lando Its the insecure one after staring the relationship when it always has been she the jealous one? Maybe because of a coworker of her or something like that

Also, i sent a request in march and it was never done it was for a topic reason? Just to know what Can i request and what no!

Thank you !

hi honey! here's the request you sent in!

regarding any prior requests, some of them got deleted a while back when my tumblr just crashed on me and i lost all of the requests in my inbox and all of my drafts got deleted, so that was fun lol

i don't know if yours was one of those or not, but sometimes, when i read a particular request and i just don't vibe with it, it's probably not going to be written because i don't think either of us would like to read an imagine that is just not that good because i wasn't feeling inspired while writing it, you know what i mean

i apologize either way, i'm trying to get back to writing as much as possible now that i'm on summer break, so i'm gonna get my groove going again hopefully hahah

[cutielando]

turn of tables | lando norris

synopsis: in which he's the jealous one

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

The funny thing about relationships, you thought, was that no matter how strong they were, there was always some hidden weakness waiting to show up. You’d learned that early on with Lando.

For months, you’d been the jealous one — you couldn’t help it. Lando had a hundred girls in every city, fans screaming his name, girls in VIP paddocks tossing their numbers at him like confetti.

Even though you trusted him, there had been moments when you hated the way other women looked at him, hated the way he charmed everyone so easily without even trying.

But you’d worked through it. With time, with honesty, with a lot of talking things out, you’d slowly learned to relax.

And that’s when the tables turned.

You’d been dating for about four months when it happened. Lando started picking you up after shifts, smiling as he waited by the staff door while you wrapped up your closing counts.

You worked at a high-end restaurant, a place where the kitchen was as sharp and tense as a Formula 1 pit lane. You were one of the senior chefs, confident, respected, and, lately, in charge of training a new sous chef named Matteo.

Matteo was tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy grin and a quick sense of humor. From the outside, it looked…well, friendly. Too friendly, maybe.

That night, Lando leaned against his McLaren, tapping a foot impatiently as he watched you and Matteo laughing just inside the staff entrance.

You’d flicked Matteo’s shoulder playfully after some dumb joke, and Matteo had grinned wide, leaning a bit too close for Lando’s liking.

Something twisted in Lando’s chest.

He tried to ignore it at first. He trusted you. Of course he did. You’d proven again and again that you were loyal, committed. But still, the look on Matteo’s face — that cocky, familiar grin — set off a quiet alarm in the back of his head.

When you finally came out, untying your apron and slinging it over your arm, you saw him frowning.

“Hey,” you said brightly. “Sorry, Matteo was asking about tomorrow’s menu changes.”

“Yeah,” Lando said, trying to sound casual, “looked like he was asking about something else too.”

You paused, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly. “It’s fine.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Lan… you good?”

“Yeah.” He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You sighed and stepped forward, brushing your thumb along his jaw. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, leaning into your touch, but something in him was stiff, distant.

It bothered you all the way home.

The next morning, you found him staring blankly at his phone, ignoring a group chat pinging with memes from his teammates.

“Spill,” you demanded, planting yourself in front of him.

“What?” he mumbled.

“You’ve been weird since yesterday. You know you can talk to me, right?”

He looked up then, eyes a little raw, the vulnerability so real it made your heart squeeze.

“Do you… do you like him?”

It took a moment for the question to register.

“Who?”

“Matteo,” he blurted, like the word tasted foul. “I see the way he looks at you. I see you laughing with him, and— I don’t know, you don’t laugh like that with me sometimes.”

Your jaw fell open. “Lando Norris. You are actually jealous?”

He bristled. “Is that so impossible?”

You softened immediately, moving to sit beside him on the couch, pressing a hand to his racing heart.

“Babe, I only laugh with Matteo because he’s new. I’m trying to make him feel comfortable. There is nothing between us.”

Lando looked away, embarrassed.

“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just… for months you worried about girls around me. I never thought I’d feel like this, but now… I can’t help it. He’s around you all the time. You work together, you share shifts, you… you touch his shoulder when you laugh.”

“Lan,” you murmured, leaning closer, “do you know how I see Matteo? As a coworker. That’s it. That’s all. And if you want, I can cool it with the playful stuff. Because I only want you.”

He swallowed hard, shoulders sagging. “I know. I trust you. But—”

“But what?” you prompted gently.

He met your eyes, glassy with honesty. “But I don’t want to lose you. You’re everything to me. And I guess, after we finally figured out your jealousy, it feels… weird to be the one worrying.”

You cupped his face, thumbs sweeping over the soft pink of his cheeks. “Listen to me. I choose you, every single day. Matteo can grin all he wants, but he doesn’t get me. You do.”

Lando laughed a little, though it was shaky. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You kissed him softly, sweetly, until he melted into you, all that tension leaking away.

But insecurities didn’t vanish overnight.

A few days later, Lando dropped by again to pick you up. The restaurant was chaos, dinner rush in full swing.

Matteo was plating a dish, and you were leaning over, showing him how to drizzle a sauce with perfect precision. Your hands were close — too close, to Lando’s eyes.

He felt a tiny stab of panic again. What if that closeness turned into something else? What if, one day, you realized you’d rather be with someone who understood your crazy chef hours, who worked the same brutal shifts, who got it?

By the time you finished and hurried to meet him in the back corridor, he was chewing on his lip.

“Sorry, long night,” you said, breathless.

Lando stared at you for a moment, blurting out,

“Did you have fun training him?”

You blinked. “Lando, I’m literally teaching him how to swirl sauce.”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be…this. I just can’t help it.”

You stepped closer, gripping his jacket.

“Then let’s fix it. Tell me what you need. Less Matteo talk? More of me reassuring you? More alone time?”

He met your eyes, torn open by how willing you were to meet him halfway. “Maybe…all of that?”

You grinned. “Deal.”

The first thing you did was draw a new line at work. That night, you pulled Matteo aside.

“Hey,” you began.

“Chef?”

“I like the way you’re working, but ease off on the jokes, okay? I’m trying to keep this professional.”

Matteo raised a brow. “You got it, Chef.”

It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong, exactly — but you wanted to make sure there was no fuel for Lando’s worries.

That weekend, you invited Lando to spend the night, just the two of you, phones off, no social media, no distractions. You made him laugh until his sides hurt, wrapped him in all the affection he’d ever given you, and showed him that yes, he was more than enough.

Later, when you were tangled together under the blankets, skin warm and hearts even warmer, he kissed your forehead, breath soft against your hair.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For not making me feel stupid. For listening. For loving me.”

You pulled back so you could see his eyes, clear and trusting in the moonlight.

“Always,” you promised. “I was the jealous one for ages, remember? You held me through it. I’ll hold you through this.”

He smiled, finally — really smiled, all that brightness returning to him. “You’re the best.”

“No,” you teased, “we’re the best.”

He kissed you again, slow and certain, as if he finally believed it. And that night, wrapped in his arms, you realized something important: love wasn’t about never feeling insecure.

It was about trusting each other enough to say, I’m scared — please stay.

And you would. For him, you always would.

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much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[cutielando]

Lando x chef reader, where he sees her in action as a head chef calling out orders getting mad when not done properly. He finds her hot but also scary with all thw shouting and the look in her face. (like a fem gordom ramsey in hells kitchen). Appreciate your workkss and love them!!

i know i’m a bitch because this took me forever to publish and i apologize!!!

[cutielando]

can’t stand the heat | lando norris

synopsis: in which he sees you in your element

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x chef!girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

The moment Lando stepped into the restaurant kitchen, the air changed.

He was used to adrenaline, to team radios crackling, to the sharp bite of engineers barking at him to “push, push, push”. But nothing quite compares to this place.

A tight, pressurized kitchen ruled by one woman whose voice could cut through steel.

You.

“Hey, table twelve’s sea bass is dying in the window!” you roared, eyes like flint as you glared at one of your junior cooks. “How many times do I have to tell you? Sauce doesn’t go on the fish until I say! Start again!”

Your tone was enough to make even seasoned chefs tremble.

Lando, leaning against the stainless steel prep counter in his casual jeans and a McLaren hoodie, swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the raw energy pulsing through the kitchen.

The heat, the shouting, the clash of pans: it felt like a battlefield.

And you were the general.

“Chef, yes, chef!” came the chorus of replies from the brigade of young cooks, their voices trembling and full of tension.

You barely glanced in Lando’s direction as you stalked past, clipboard in hand, ponytail bouncing, eyes scanning every single station.

The focused fury on your face was intimidating, but God, if it wasn’t also sexy as hell.

Lando had never seen you in full chef mode before. When you weren’t on shift, you were playful, teasing him about his weird snack habits, making fun of the McLaren memes.

But here?

You were a queen, demanding perfection and refusing to compromise.

“Lando, stay out of the way,” you snapped when you noticed him lingering too close to the line. “If you trip a runner, I’ll skin you alive:”

He raised his hands in surrender, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, Chef,” he said, his voice teasing.

Your eyes narrowed dangerously, but a hint of amusement sparked before you turned away.

“Order, fire! One risotto, one cod, two steak medium, one rare!” you barked.

“Yes, Chef!”

The entire team moved like a well-oiled machine.

Pans hissed, knives slammed through fresh herbs, and the call-and-response cadence filled the air. It was harsh, almost ruthless.

For a moment, Lando thought it might be even scarier than a wet qualifying session in Monaco.

But somehow, he couldn’t look away from the sight of you.

He watched as you adjusted a garnish with military precision, then cursed under your breath when one of the plates came back overcooked.

You slammed it down on the pantry, glaring at the entire kitchen staff in front of you.

“This is gray. This is bulletproof. Who the fuck made this?”

A trembling commission chef raised his hand.

“Look at me,” you ordered.

Your voice dropped low, terrifyingly calm, which was somehow much worse than the shouting.

“Tell me, would you eat this?”

“N-no, chef”

“Then why the hell do you think I’d serve it to a paying guest?” you asked, your voice dangerous.

“I-I’m sorry, chef”

“Start again, and this time taste the damn steak before you put it on my plate”

“Yes, chef!”

Lando let out a low whistle. You were absolutely terrifying, and mesmerizing at the same time.

“Oi, Norris! I told you to stay clear of the pass!” you snapped again, noticing him still standing in the same spot he was before.

“Sorry, babe” he laughed, stepping back, trying his best to melt into the wall.

Your glare could have incinerated him on the spot, but then you rolled your eyes and stalked off to check the sauce station.

He could see a bead of sweat rolling down your temple as you leaned over a simmering pot, swirling a spoon through a velvety beurre blanc, nodding with grudging approval when it finally tasted right.

If Lando had to describe it, he’d say you looked like a warrior. Sharp, fearless, and unstoppable.

And in a way, that was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

He stayed for the rest of the service, trying to stay out of your way, though his eyes were drawn to you like magnets every single you barked out an order for your staff.

Sometimes you shouted so loud he himself would flinch, but the next second you’d pivot, praising a perfect dish with a beaming grin that transformed your entire face.

By the end of the night, after the final covers were out and the exhausted line cooks had begun wiping down, you sagged against the counter, shoulders loosening for the first time in hours.

The kitchen fell silent except for the faint drip of a dishwasher.

Lando approached carefully, like you were a lion catching your breath after a kill.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You straightened up and gave time a tired smile.

“Yeah, we survived” you said, your voice exhausted.

“Bloody hell” he breathed out. “Remind me to never piss you off in your own kitchen”

“Too late, you already did” you barked out, your laugh hoarse but genuine.

He gave you a wide-eyed puppy look, the one he knew you couldn’t ever resist.

“Come on, chef. Go easy on me” he said, his lip jutting out.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t call me chef unless you want to get shouted at” you said.

“I don’t mind” he teased, stepping closer to you. “It’s kind of hot, actually”

Your brows shot up in disbelief, not believing what he was telling you,

“Hot? You think me screaming at people all night is hot?” you asked, both of your eyebrows raised.

Lando grinned, leaning on the pass with his eyes twinkling.

“Yeah. You were in your element. It was powerful, scary even, but in a good way” he explained.

You snorted, reaching for a rag to wipe down the counter. “You are so weird.”

“Says the girl who nearly murdered a teenager for overcooking a steak.”

“That steak was a crime,” you protested, but you couldn’t help laughing.

He watched the way your shoulders finally relaxed, how your voice softened now that the kitchen stress had ebbed away.

Lando stepped closer to you, close enough to smell the faint perfume behind the layers of garlic and herbs.

“You still want to hang out tonight?” he asked. “Or are you too knackered?”

“I might collapse on the couch,” you admitted, “but yeah. You can come over.”

He smirked. “Think you’ll yell at me some more?”

You shot him a look that made his heart race.

“Only if you deserve it.”

He chuckled, catching your wrist and tugging you toward him, carefully away from the chaos of the kitchen.

“Fair enough. But you know… you’re amazing at this. Watching you tonight was… I don’t know. It made me proud.”

That stopped you for a moment. Your eyes softened, mouth quirking into a shy smile.

“Thanks, Lan.”

“Anytime.”

The sous chef called your name, breaking the moment.

“Chef, end-of-night counts ready!”

You took a steadying breath, nodding, then turned back to Lando with a wry grin.

“Duty calls. Wait for me outside?”

“Sure, Chef,” he teased again, and ducked when you mock-swiped at his head with a towel.

As you stalked off to finish your closing duties, Lando couldn’t help grinning like a fool. Maybe she was scary, he thought — but she was his scary.

And that made her the most beautiful woman in the world.

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much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[cutielando]

hi love! I was wondering if you could write something for Oscar x reader with like angst but it ends with fluff

i know i'm an asshole because this took me a very long time to finish writing, but i finally managed to publish!!!

[cutielando]

between the lines | oscar piastri

synopsis: in which you don't know where you stand

a/n: based on this request

pairing: oscar piastri x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

You’d never really fought before. Not properly. Sure, there were tense days and small arguments — what couple didn’t have those? But nothing like this. Nothing that cut so deep.

It had started after Monaco, when Oscar had been quiet for days, his phone buzzing at all hours with messages from engineers and team strategists.

You tried to be understanding. You knew what you signed up for, dating a Formula 1 driver.

But you couldn’t help feeling like you were on the outside looking in — second place in his life, always after the car, the racing, the job.

One evening, after another half-hearted conversation at the dinner table where he barely looked up from his phone, you snapped.

“Do you even see me anymore?” you demanded, voice shaking.

Oscar looked up, startled, confused. “What are you talking about?”

You laughed, bitter. “You haven’t been present in weeks, Oscar. I’m trying, I really am, but it’s like I’m invisible.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “I’m just tired, okay? I’m trying to focus on the next race.”

“Yeah,” you shot back, heart pounding, “that’s always your excuse. There’s always another race. Another debrief. Another something. But never me.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not fair.”

You blinked, stung. “Not fair? I’ve supported you through every high and low. All I’m asking is that you see me once in a while.”

Oscar stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor, his voice suddenly sharp. “I can’t just shut everything off when you want me to, okay? That’s not how it works.”

You stared at him, the tears already coming. “Do you even love me anymore?” you whispered.

The silence after that felt like a thousand knives.

Oscar shook his head, not in denial but in disbelief. “How can you even ask me that?”

But you couldn’t answer — you were too busy trying to breathe through the ache, too busy trying to stop yourself from falling apart.

“Maybe,” you choked, “we should take a break.”

Oscar froze, horror flashing in his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know,” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

You didn’t sleep that night. You lay on opposite sides of the bed, backs turned, hearts breaking in the same room but somehow a thousand miles apart.

The next morning, Oscar was gone before you woke up, leaving only a note:

At the factory. We’ll talk later.

Days passed in a fog. You went to work, came home, and tried to keep living, but your chest felt heavy all the time.

You missed him — god, you missed him so much it hurt — but you were scared of what would happen if you gave in, if you let the pattern repeat.

And Oscar? He felt like he was drowning.

Everything on track was fine, mechanical even, but nothing felt right. Every time he braked late or switched a setting on his wheel, he saw your face. Every time he took off his helmet, he half-expected you to be there.

He couldn’t stand it.

Three days after you’d told him you needed space, he finally came home, earlier than usual, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

You were curled up on the couch, watching the rain hit the window, when you heard the door open. Your heart nearly stopped.

Oscar stepped inside, setting down his keys, and just…stood there.

“Hi,” he said softly.

Your throat burned. “Hi.”

He walked over, stopping in front of you, eyes searching yours. “Can we talk?”

You nodded, too scared to trust your voice.

He sat down, elbows on his knees, hands trembling. “I can’t do this,” he admitted, voice cracking. “I can’t… be away from you. I’m sorry.”

Your chest tightened, tears threatening. “Oscar—”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted gently, swallowing hard. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I thought…if I just worked harder, if I just kept my head down, everything would be fine. But it’s not. You’re not fine. And that means I’m not fine, either.”

You covered your mouth, tears spilling over.

He reached for your hand, desperate. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ve always loved you. You’re not second to racing — you’re everything. And if I made you feel like you weren’t, then I failed.”

You let out a sob, letting him pull you into his arms.

“I’m so scared,” you admitted, voice muffled against his chest. “I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t live like this.”

He stroked your hair, holding you like you were glass. “I don’t want you to live like this either. We’ll fix it, okay? We’ll find a way.”

“How?” you cried. “You’re gone half the year.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But when I’m home, I’ll be home. I’ll put the phone away. I’ll be present. And I want you to come to more races, if you want. I don’t want you shut out of my world. I want you in it.”

You pulled back, searching his face, seeing the honesty there.

“Do you mean that?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Every word.”

You exhaled, shaky but hopeful. “Okay,” you breathed. “We can try.”

He smiled, a soft, relieved thing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you repeated, and then he was kissing you, slow and desperate and full of everything you’d both been holding back.

That night, you lay together in bed, wrapped up in each other, the tension finally broken. Oscar traced slow circles on your back, voice sleepy and warm.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to fight alone,” he whispered.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“We’ll get better,” you promised. “Together.”

He smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “Together,” he echoed.

And you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Racing would always be demanding, the calendar always brutal.

But lying in his arms, feeling him breathe, you believed you could do it — that you’d find a way to hold on, to choose each other again and again, no matter how chaotic the world got.

Because that was love. Messy, painful, complicated — but worth every single second.

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REQUEST HERE

[cutielando]

can you do an osc x reader with a chronic illness like pcos? fluff and comfort

i know it took me forever, but here you go!!

[cutielando]

comfort | oscar piastri

synopsis: in which he helps you deal with your pain

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: oscar piastri x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

You’ve always been good at hiding it. At school, at work, even with friends—no one ever seemed to notice how your body wasn’t quite right.

But it was harder to hide it from Oscar.

He had a way of seeing through your walls, reading your face when something was off, always managing to catch the tiniest change in your demeanor.

It had been a long day—one of those where everything felt heavy, and every movement was a struggle.

The dull ache in your lower abdomen had intensified this morning, but you powered through, like you always did.

But now, sitting in your living room, you were curled up on the couch, trying to distract yourself with a book, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the discomfort.

The cramps, the bloating, the mood swings. The things you never really talked about.

Oscar had been busy with Formula 1 preparations all week. He had barely been home, and you knew it was hard for him to balance his intense schedule and the time he spent with you.

But when he did have free moments, he always made it a point to check on you. His texts were constant, his concern never lessening.

"How are you feeling?" he’d ask. And you’d always reply with a simple "I’m okay," hoping it would be enough to keep him from worrying.

But today… you weren’t okay. You felt like you were falling apart.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You groaned quietly, not feeling like entertaining anyone.

But when the door opened, there he was, your tall, handsome boyfriend, with his signature grin that always made your heart flutter.

"Hey" Oscar said softly, stepping inside and locking eyes with you.

His smile faltered when he saw your slumped posture, the way your eyes were barely open, and the way you clutched the blanket around you like it was your lifeline.

"Hey" you whispered, trying your best to sit up straighter.

He didn’t say anything at first, just set his bag down and walked toward the couch, his eyes never leaving you.

He bent down to check your forehead, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face.

"You’re burning up," he murmured. "What’s going on? You look pale."

"It’s just… my body," you said quietly. You didn’t want to burden him with your health issues again. "I’ll be fine."

Oscar wasn’t buying it. He leaned in, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.

"No, you’re not fine. You haven’t been fine for a while. Talk to me, please. I want to help you"

You sighed, looking away for a moment, feeling the familiar weight of shame settle in your chest.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—Oscar had always been so kind, so understanding—but it was hard to let someone in when you felt like your body was betraying you.

"I have PCOS," you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. "It messes with my hormones and causes pain, bloating, weight gain... and sometimes I just feel so... tired. I try to push through it, but today it’s just too much."

Oscar’s face softened with understanding, and he immediately sat next to you on the couch, pulling you into his arms without hesitation.

You felt the warmth of his body against yours and, for a brief moment, the pain eased. His arms were a safe haven, a comfort, and the world outside seemed to slow down.

"I’m so sorry you’re going through this" Oscar said gently. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"I didn’t want to worry you" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t want you to think that I’m weak."

Oscar tilted your chin up, making sure you looked into his eyes.

"You’re not weak," he said firmly. "You’re one of the strongest people I know. And I’m here for you, always. You don’t have to hide this from me."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the tears threatening to spill. You didn’t know why you had been so afraid to open up to him.

Maybe it was because, in a way, you didn’t feel deserving of his care.

But now, wrapped in his arms, with his warmth surrounding you, that fear began to fade.

Oscar’s fingers gently brushed through your hair, the soft caress grounding you.

"What can I do to make you feel better? I hate seeing you like this"

"You’re already doing it," you whispered, leaning into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Just being here helps."

He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I’m glad. But I’m also going to make sure you’re comfortable. You need rest, and I can help with that."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, surprised.

"You don’t have to do anything. You’ve got your own things to deal with."

Oscar shook his head, his eyes serious now.

"No, I’m making it a priority to take care of you. You’ve been taking care of me, of everything else. Now it’s my turn."

With that, he stood up, offering you his hand to help you stand.

"Let’s get you into bed, yeah? I’ll make you some tea, maybe a warm compress for your stomach. You just relax. I’ll take care of everything else."

You let him help you to your feet, and as he guided you toward the bedroom, you felt a small but important sense of relief.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t managed your condition before, but having someone who cared so deeply, someone who didn’t shy away from your struggles, made all the difference.

As you settled into bed, Oscar busied himself in the kitchen.

You could hear the sound of water boiling and the faint clinking of utensils as he prepared everything you’d need.

When he returned, he had a cup of herbal tea in one hand and a warm compress in the other.

He set everything down beside you on the bed, carefully placing the compress on your abdomen.

"This should help with the cramps," he said softly, sitting beside you once more. "Drink your tea, and I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep."

The warmth of the compress, the scent of the tea, and Oscar’s presence all combined to make you feel more at ease than you had in days.

You wrapped your hands around the warm cup, savoring the heat that seeped into your cold fingers.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

Oscar smiled down at you, his eyes full of love and understanding.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime."

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much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[cutielando]

ꜰᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ 1 ɢʀɪᴅ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ♡

TEXTING FICS ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you surprise them with a tattoo ♡

[cutielando]

you surprise them with a tattoo 🎀

texting au

featuring: Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Oliver Bearman

my masterlist

requested: yes!

⁀➴ Max Verstappen

⁀➴ Lando Norris

⁀➴ Oscar Piastri

⁀➴ Charles Leclerc

⁀➴ Oliver Bearman

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[cutielando]

fic update.

hi guys!

as you have probably noticed (or not), my posts have been excruciatingly slow the past couple of weeks, and i have an explanation.

i've entered exam season as of last week, and to be honest with all of you, my mental health has not been the greatest either. i'm not doing all that well, and writing a fic has been really out of the question.

i've sat in front of my computer with my Google Docs open, trying to put some words in a document, but so far i haven't really managed to write anything.

i'm going to be taking a little break from writing, i need to regroup and find a way to get into the zone again and find some inspiration to get back to writing.

i'll try and be around as much as possible on tumblr in other ways, communicating with you guys and keeping an eye on our beautiful community.

i know you long for fics, i long to be able to write for you guys as well, but please bear with me. i'm doing my best to get back on my feet, but it's a lengthy process and it's going to take a little while.

thank you for understanding!!

love you always xoxo

[cutielando]

max's penalty?

hi guys!!

i'm taking a little break from writing because i've entered exam season and i'm going through a rough time, but i watched today's race and i'm curious about something

i've seen a lot of people online saying Max deserved a harsher penalty for his really dangerous move on george during the last few laps of the GP, maybe even the black flag?

what do you guys think?

[cutielando]

hiii are you open for requests! For Charles!

i am, yes!!

[cutielando]

Hi I would like to send in a request with Lando x reader based of the song revolving door by Tate McRae

i know it took me forever, but i finally got it done!!

[cutielando]

revolving door | lando norris

synopsis: in which he will do anything to win you back and prove to you he has changed

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x ex-girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

The first time you walked away from Lando Norris, it had been raining.

Fitting, really, because everything about that night had felt like a storm—rushed words, emotions colliding like thunder against lightning, and the eventual crack that split you apart.

“I can’t keep doing this, Lando,” you had said, voice barely above a whisper, but somehow it still cut through the downpour. “I can’t keep being the girl you come back to when it’s convenient.”

Lando hadn’t said much then. Just stared at you with those sea-glass eyes, his lips parting like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.

Maybe he knew you were right. Maybe he was tired of this cycle, too. Maybe he thought you’d come back—just like you always did.

And for a while, you really thought you wouldn’t.

But the thing about revolving doors is that no matter how many times you step out, you always end up back inside.

♡♡♡♡♡

It started again three months later, like it always did.

You had told yourself you were over him, that you were stronger this time, that you wouldn’t let yourself be pulled back into the orbit of Lando Norris.

But then he showed up at your doorstep, soaked from the rain, a bottle of your favorite wine in one hand and a ridiculous, sheepish grin on his face.

“Hey”

Just one word. One stupid, simple word, and suddenly, you were caught in the same cycle all over again.

You let him in. Of course, you let him in.

And it was good—for a little while. It always was. Lando had a way of making you forget why you left in the first place.

He was warm touches and late-night laughter, tangled limbs under white sheets, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that made sense.

But then came the other side of the cycle.

The part where he got distant, where racing took priority, where texts went unanswered for days, where you sat in the grandstands watching him but wondering if he ever truly saw you.

And you told yourself you wouldn’t do it again, that you wouldn’t be his revolving door, but God, it was so hard when every time he came back, he made you feel like you were everything.

♡♡♡♡♡

“You’re mad”

You didn’t even bother looking up from your drink.

“What gave it away?”

Lando sighed, sliding into the bar stool next to you. His hand brushed against yours on the counter, a silent attempt at connection, but you pulled away.

“I had a race” he said, like that excused everything. “I had obligations”

You finally turned to face him, your jaw tight.

“And what about me? Do I not count as an obligation? Or am I just something you pick up when it’s convenient?”

His face twisted in frustration. “That’s not fair”

You scoffed.

“No, Lando, what’s not fair is me sitting here, wondering if I’m even a priority to you, while you’re off living your life like I don’t exist”

He ran a hand through his curls, his knee bouncing under the table.

“You know how much this means to me”

“And you know how much it hurts to be treated like an afterthought” you shot back.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared at you like he was trying to figure out the right words to keep you from slipping away again.

But you were tired—so damn tired—of always being the one waiting, always being the one to put in the effort.

So, you pushed back your chair and stood up.

“I can’t do this anymore, Lando.”

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “Wait—”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m done being your revolving door.”

And this time, you meant it.

Right?

♡♡♡♡♡

A month passed. Then two.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t look back.

You threw yourself into work, into friends, into anything that kept your mind busy.

You ignored the texts he sent—the I miss you, the I’m sorry, the Can we just talk? Because you knew if you answered, you’d be right back where you started.

But then, one night, you found yourself at a race. Not for him—at least, that’s what you told yourself. You were there with friends, just another face in the crowd.

And yet, somehow, his eyes found yours the second he stepped onto the podium.

You should’ve left. You should’ve walked away before he could find you.

But you didn’t.

You were standing by the paddock entrance when he appeared, still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat. He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were real.

“You came” he breathed.

You folded your arms over your chest.

“I didn.t come here for you. Don’t read into it” you said, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

He took a hesitant step closer, watching your every move and gesture for any sign that you didn't want him closer. But he found none.

“But I want to read into it”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to stay strong.

“Lando—”

“No, listen,” he interrupted, his voice almost desperate. “I know I’ve screwed up. I know I’ve been selfish. But I swear to God, I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter.”

You looked away, because if you met his eyes for too long, you’d break.

“Then why did you?”

He exhaled shakily, looking down at the ground.

“Because I’m an idiot. Because I thought you’d always be there no matter what. And I was wrong”

You bit your lip, your heart pounding.

“And what happens when this cycle starts again?”

His hand found yours—gentle, hesitant. “It won’t. I swear to you, it won't ever happen again”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to. But could you?

Lando squeezed your fingers, as if sensing your doubt.

“I don’t want you to be my revolving door, love. I just want you to be my home”

And maybe, just maybe, this time… he really meant it.

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[cutielando]

awwww, love you too honey !!!! 🤍🎀

dating headcannons | lando norris

synopsis: in which you think about your relationship

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

you would meet at an after party for one of the Grand Prix

he would immediately take an interest in you as soon as he would see you in the busy club

you would exchange numbers and stay in contact afterwards 

took you on 4 dates before officially asking you to be his girlfriend

would be the sweetest boyfriend ever

you would keep your relationship a secret for a few months to make sure that what you had was the real deal

he was skeptical to introduce you to his fans because of what happened with his ex-girlfriend

but they all ended up loving you to death

they could see how happy you made Lando and how much you loved each other

you often interacted with them on social media, posting more Lando content for them to see and sometimes exposing him

he would spoil you rotten

he had the money to do it, so he bought you every single thing that you would look at for more than 5 seconds

jewelry, shoes, clothes, purses, books, perfumes

it didn’t matter what it was, he would buy it for you

buys you flowers with every occasion 

brings you with him to every Grand Prix that you’re able to attend

loves showing you off to the entire paddock, making sure that everyone knew how beautiful and loved his girlfriend was

Zak would oftentimes have to physically separate you two whenever he would have a meeting and wouldn’t want to separate from you to attend it

you and Jon would 100% be besties, staying in touch on a regular basis

his family loved you, happy to see that someone loved their son as much as they did

you would talk with his sisters and mother on a daily basis, more than he does. Would definitely have a group chat just the 4 of you

he would sometimes get jealous because you would pay more attention to his family, but in reality he was just grateful that you got along with them so well

you loved watching him race, but you also worried like crazy every time he would get into the car

being there with him when he crashed in Las Vegas had been the scariest experience you’d ever had

he reassured you that he would always find his way back to you, no matter what

his lando.jpg account would turn into a fan account dedicated to you

he would always take pictures of you, no matter where you were or what you were doing

lazy days, lazy days, lazy days

you two enjoyed every little moment that you had together, seeing as you didn’t get too much time to relax during race weekends 

would spend the entire day cuddled in bed, watching some crappy movies or just talking about anything and everything for hours on end

you would move with him to Monaco almost after one year of being together, not wanting to be apart or do long-distance anymore

goofy, silly mood all the time in the apartment

he would make it his mission to make you laugh constantly, your laugh being his favorite sound in the whole world

Max would love you, you got along like brother and sister 

you would be a very known face on his Twitch streams and featured in Quadrant videos 

his friends accepted you into the group like you were one of them from the very beginning

the grid would call him a “simp” because he wouldn’t be able to stop talking about you

you and Oscar would be besties, often making fun of him or teaming up to pull a prank on him

the McLaren team loving you like you were part of their team, which essentially you were

they would sometimes ask you to film videos with Lando for content, which you would always happily film because you loved the team and you also loved Lando

goes wild in bed

he spends hours upon hours worshiping every part of your body

very passionate lover, focused on your pleasure and your pleasure alone

you would keep him grounded, being his solace during the hard times

after a bad race, he didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he just needed to be held and coddled

you two loved each other very much, fitting together like two missing pieces from a puzzle

soulmates, all the way

married, children, a house, you would go all the way

happily ever after

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