norrisjpg

[norrisjpg]

if i speak i am in trouble.

[norrisjpg]

── ☆ golf buggies & club cocktails

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series my kind of woman, LN⁴

content: swearing, the monaco grand prix, max being mean, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, charles & alexandra being icons!!

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: this bitch was thirty-one pages long on google docs, absolutely crazy behaviour from myself here. and because it's so long, it's not proof-read so sorry for any typos. i hope you enjoy!!

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IT WAS UNEXPECTED to say the least, lily hadn’t expected to hear from lando for a couple months at least – between travel and sponsor dinners, his schedule didn’t exactly leave time for spontaneous invitations, especially to his best friend’s younger sister.

but, the notification arrived on friday evening, just as she was curled up in her flat watching reruns of would i lie to you? and trying to forget the awkward voicemail harry had left her earlier.

lando sent a voice note.

voicenote [0.28] “hellooo, i’m driving so this is easier for me to do rather than message you – sorry if you hate voice notes. [pause] uh, anyway, are you still coming here for that movie premiere? ‘cause i’m just saying, if you need somewhere to stay, you can stay with me if you want. [indicator clicking] what the fuck is this guy doing– anyway, sorry, yeah the hotels here are so expensive, so you may as well stay with me, if you want, no pressure. [pause] yeah, that’s all, let me know, bye lala.”

she smiled down at her phone, the warmth blooming quickly in her chest.

lily sent a voice note.

voicenote [0.36] “um…hi. i don’t usually do voice notes, i hate the sound of my own voice [laughs]. but yeah, thankyou for the offer, i’d– [pause] i’d like that, yeah, thankyou, lando. i get in at nine on tuesday morning, and the premiere is on wednesday evening, so [pause] yeah, i haven’t booked a flight back yet, but i’ll probably leave on thursday morning or something. [pause] okay, yeah, i’ll get an uber booked for tuesday, so if you could send me your address that would be helpful. thankyou, bye lan.”

her voice softly echoed around his mclaren, and he smiled, almost taking his concentration off of the road for a moment. 

lando sent a voice note.

voicenote [0.37] “ah, well i feel privileged then, la. don’t worry about booking an uber, i’ll come and pick you up from the airport. and it’s monaco this weekend, so if you’re not busy [pause] would you maybe like to come for the weekend? you can come in the garage and stuff, plus you know cam and jon and everyone now, so yeah. [pause] i mean, i’m not really giving you an option, unless you hate the idea of it. oh and then you can fly back with me on tuesday, we’re going back to the factory for a few days, so don’t worry about booking a flight back [pause] let me know.”

his voice, relaxed, boyish, and slightly muffled like he was speaking into his hoodie sleeve. it filled the space like warmth curling around her ribs.

lily sent a voice note.

voicenote [0.14] “oh, yeah, okay that sounds good. thankyou, lando. i obviously would never turn down coming to a race weekend, but yeah, if you’re willing to put up with me for that long, i’d really like that, so thankyou, again – cool, bye.”

lando sent a message. oh and pack some golfing appropriate clothes :)

• • • •

TUESDAY arrived quickly, and with it, a blinding mediterranean sun that lit up monaco like a dream. lily stepped off of the plane, dark sunglasses perched on her head, blue & white linen draped around her hips, paired with a navy tank top. nice always made her feel like she was in some sort of perfume ad, soft clouds cutting across the sky, and water that looked photoshopped. lando was waiting just outside of arrivals, sunglasses over his eyes, with a less-than-discreet quadrant cap pulled low over his forehead. 

“you came.” the mclaren driver smiled as he hugged the girl. 

“you asked me to,” lily replied softly. “plus, i never turn down free accommodation.”

“you didn’t reply for an hour, thought you’d ghosted me.” he laughed, and took her bag without asking, effortlessly sliding it into the boot, before opening the passenger side door. 

“ever heard of airplane mode?” she laughed, slipping into the car and clipping her seatbelt on. “thankyou.”

he rolled his eyes with a gentle chuckle, flicking the door shut and heading to the driver’s seat.

they made the drive back to monaco with the windows cracked open, music drifting between the two of them. lando didn’t talk much – not because he was tired or didn’t want to, he just didn’t need to fill the silence. instead, he looked over at her occasionally with a half-smile, like he was still a little in awe that she was actually there.

his apartment hadn’t changed. it was still warm-toned, a little messy in a charming way. shoes in a pile by the front door, a random golf club next to the coat rack, as if it had been forgotten mid-practice swing. it was him, cedarwood and lemon, soft around the edges. sunlight spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the cozy accents of the apartment. 

“you’re in here,” lando said, opening his bedroom door. “clean sheets, the whole lot.”

“where are you sleeping?” she asked as lando lifted her suitcase onto the bed.

“couch.”

“lando–”

“i’m not arguing with you about this,” he shook his head. “you’ll lose.”

lily rolled her eyes, but smiled. “okay, but i don’t like this.”

“you’ll live, won’t you?” he quipped. 

• • • •

BY EARLY AFTERNOON, they were pulling into a quiet, palm-lined golf course just outside of the principality. carlos and rebecca were waiting at the club’s edge, both in stylish sunglasses and crisp clothes. carlos waved dramatically the moment he spotted them.

“buenas mañanas!” carlos called, “finally, the recluse is here.”

lando rolled his eyes, “i’ve literally been outside for like twelve hours this week, shut up.”

rebecca laughed, stepping in to hug lily, her arms cool from the breeze and her perfume like white flowers and sunscreen. “so nice to finally meet you,” she said warmly. “i’ve been waiting for lando to introduce us.”

“same here,” lily replied, surprised at how natural it already felt. “you look like you belong in a magazine, by the way.”

carlos scoffed, “tell her again, she spent twenty minutes looking for the shoes.”

“i’m committed to the cause.” the taller girl shrugged. 

“respect.” the british girl replied with a grin.

they teed off just after two, the sun blazing down over the monaco cliffs, heat radiating off the green in shimmering waves. lando and carlos jumped into the front of the buggy, arguing about who got to drive, while lily and rebecca quietly slipped into the back. carlos ended up winning said argument, and accelerated quite quickly toward the first hole.

“does she know?” carlos asked casually, swinging the club next to him mindlessly as they walked away from the cart.

“does who know what?”

the williams driver raised an eyebrow, “lily, that you’re head-over-heels.”

lando nearly dropped the club in his hand. “what–no, i’m not–”

“she’s sleeping in your bed, mate.” carlos said, amused. “you picked her up from the airport, you’re practically writing her poetry–”

“you’re reading too much into it.” the brit shook his head, trying not to smile. “and poetry, seriously?”

carlos just smiled knowingly. “you keep telling yourself that, i’ll just ignore the way you looked at her when she fixed her hair in the buggy mirror.”

lando said nothing, because honestly, he had nothing to say. he had noticed. she’d tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and he’d caught himself staring for a little longer than was friendly, and a lot longer than was smart.

“she’s max’s sister.” he muttered, hitting the ball a little harder than necessary. 

carlos hummed, “if it keeps you warm at night.”

by the third hole, rebecca and lily had opted to walk the stretch between shots, after lando had hit his ball into a pond by accident. 

“lando wouldn’t shut up about you after miami, you know?” rebecca said out of the blue.

lily blinked, “what?”

“he was being all casual about it, but every other word was ‘lily thinks’ or something to do with you.” the scottish girl grinned. “and that boy doesn’t usually talk that much about anything.”

the younger girl looked down at her flats, a flush she was so desperately trying to fight rising to her cheeks.

“he’s comfortable around you,” she said more gently. “that’s rare with the drivers, they may as well live in a pressure cooker.”

lily smiled, “he’s easy to be around, i guess.”

“yeah, especially when he’s pretending not to stare.”

when the seventh hole came around, lando had finally convinced lily to tee up. but, he didn’t get to see it, as his ball flew off near the trees, so he had to go and find it. 

“relax your grip, lils.” carlos said, “you’re overcorrecting.”

“since when are you a coach?”

“since lando slices his shot every time you smile at him.”

lily turned, stunned into laughter, but carlos just grinned, “you didn’t hear it from me, though.”

the sun had dipped lower by the time carlos had won at the final hole, casting gold across the hills. everyone had loosened up – laughter was easy, and the teasing was relentless. lando had finally stopped trying to hide how he was looking at lily, from carlos at least.

“you’ve got it bad.” rebecca said, nudging lando’s shoulder.

lando didn’t argue this time. he just looked at lily, walking ahead with carlos – laughter floating on the breeze – and nodded once.

“whatever you say.”

• • • •

AFTER DINNER, back at the apartment, the streets of monaco had quieted into something soft and still – the kind of quiet only a coastal city could offer. the streets below glimmered with the last of the marina lights, and the only sounds inside were the low hum of the fridge and the creak of lando’s floorboards as they both moved around. 

lily had changed into one of her oversized shirts – one of max’s old karting sponsor t-shirts she’d stolen a few years ago – and padded into the kitchen, quietly due to the material of the fluffy socks on her feet. lando was stood there, boiling the kettle, barefoot and hoodie-clad, curls slightly damp from the quick shower he’d had.

the driver looked up when she appeared, eyebrows raised. “tea?”

“please,” she nodded, walking closer. “peppermint, if you have it.”

“what do you take me for?” lando replied, mock-offended. “of course i’ve got it.”

she laughed and leant against the counter beside him, the stretch of space between them warm but unspoken. the kind of closeness that felt domestic, familiar. not unusual, but newly charged.

their fingers brushed together when he handed her the mug a minute or so later, and she smiled, “thanks.”

“always,” he nodded, the two of them falling in-step toward the couch. “movie?”

the pair plopped down on the couch, lily stretching her legs out, and lando letting her rest her feet on his lap. without speaking, he pulled the blanket over her lower body, and switched the tv on. it smelled like washing powder and sea salt, warm and inviting. 

“looking forward to your premiere tomorrow night?” the mclaren driver asked, pressing play on some cheesy rom-com. 

“i guess.” she shrugged, “actually, i wanted to ask you, do you want to come as my plus-one? platonically, of course, no pressure.”

“awh, afraid you’ll miss me too much?”

“yep, that’s the number one reason.” she retorted, voice laced with sarcasm. 

“then of course i’ll go with you.” he shot back with a soft laugh. “it’s black tie, right? what colour is your dress?”

“navy, it’s like my go-to colour.”

lando smiled, naturally resting his hand on her ankle, rubbing small circles across the skin – soft, thoughtless, familiar. 

she didn’t say a word.

she just smiled and nodded – while her brain seemed to melt. 

• • • •

THE RED CARPET was filled with flashes and shouting, and the theatre steps under lily’s heels glittered like a mirrorball. monaco never did subtle, especially not on nights like this – the air shimmered with perfume, heat, and the weight of too many egos trying not to look impressed.

lily held her chin high, a soft smile fixed on her face as lando fell into step beside her. his hand hovered gently at her lower back, not touching, but enough to feel the static electricity radiating off of his palm. she glanced at him, and he smiled – boyish and slightly nervous, as if this sort of thing wasn’t second nature to him by now. 

“you okay?” he murmured under his breath. 

“peachy,” she breathed. “you?”

“terrified,” lando smiled for the cameras. “i’m not used to being the plus-one, but it’s nice to not be asked questions.”

“well, you make a very pretty accessory, mr. norris.” she teased, glancing upward at him as the cameras captured the moment.

he looked at her then, properly – slow and deliberate, eyes dragging across her face, her earrings, the sweep of her collarbone – and sighed.

“you look–” the driver paused, lips parting slightly. “you look gorgeous, lala.”

she laughed in an attempt to prevent the heat rising up to her neck. “thankyou, but you’re just saying that because i let you pick the playlist in the car.”

the brit was about to reply, but photographers started calling their names. they posed briefly for media photos and the camera – lando standing just a little too close, lily’s smile softening whenever he leant in to speak to her. journalists yelled, but they didn’t stop long enough for a full interview. they slipped inside together, through the lobby and into the hush of the velvet-curtain theatre, where the music from the foyer faded into a quiet that felt like relief. 

their seats were front-row-adjacent, tucked into a plush middle row surrounded by industry people lily half-recognised from magazines. she scanned the programme as they sat. 

“so, what’s the plot?” lando leaned in closer, speaking quietly.

“something about a long-lost daughter reconnecting with her mother, a bit emotional.”

he blinked, “and you invited me to this?”

“you like crying.” she deadpanned.

he nudged her foot with his own, shaking his head. “hey, only when i die in tarkov.”

the movie began, and lily expected lando to fidget, whisper snide little comments and complain halfway through, but he was strangely stuff. he only really shifted once, when she tried to pull the large slit on her dress closed, and he draped his suit jacket over her legs without a word. their arms pressed against each other in the midst of the film, skin warm where they touched, and even in the flicker of the screenlight, she could feel his gaze drift to her sometimes.

by the time the credits rolled, her throat was a little thick. she blinked quickly, brushing under her eyes as the lights came up.

lando glanced over, “you cried.”

she shook her head, “so did you.”

“did not.”

“you’re sniffling?” lily laughed softly.

“shut up,” he rolled his eyes with a smile. “come on, let’s go be fake celebrities at the afterparty.”

he grabbed her hand and gently pulled her along behind him, while she was laughing at him.

“you are a celebrity?”

 • • • •

THE ROOFTOP AFTER-PARTY shimmered with the kind of effortless opulence monaco seemed to do best – glass railings framed by fairy lights, flickering candle-lit tables tucked between oversized potted plants, and a panoramic view of the marina where yachts glowed like floating constellations. the music was soft but rhythmic – a quite bassline pulsing under the clinking of glasses and easy laughter of film producers, models and industry stars.

lily stood near the edge, one hand curled around a coupe glass, the other resting lightly on the railing as she took it all in. the dress she wore – a floor-length slip of navy silk – caught the warm light with every movement, clinging just enough to hint at the silhouette beneath. the halter neckline left her shoulders practically bare, a low, open back dipped to just above her waist. her hair was pinned loosely, strands falling in soft waves around her face, and small sapphire earrings glinted against her skin. 

lando, beside her, donned a sharp, black suit tailored to perfection – the kind that moved with him, soft-shouldered and just a little undone in a way that felt intentional. his tie matched her dress perfectly, almost down to the colour-swatch – a deep, navy silk, he’d had delivered to his apartment when he’d seen the colour of her dress after her arrival.

he’d looked at her differently the moment she’d stepped out of his bedroom, adjusting the clasp of her necklace. nothing was said at first – he just stared, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other tightened around the doorframe, like he needed something to keep himself upright.

“you–” he’d started, then blinked, and laughed once under his breath. “yeah. okay. wow.”

she’d smiled, brushing the invisible lint off of the silk. “thankyou, i think.”

now, hours later, he hadn’t drifted more than two feet from her since they arrived in his car. always within reach. always with a hand wrapped loosely around a drink he didn’t have any interest in actually drinking. she introduced him with casual pride, and he let his gaze linger when he thought she wasn’t looking, and innocently adjusted her necklace once when the clasp shifted – his fingers brushing the nape of her neck, warm and careful.

“you alright?” he asked softly, leaning toward her as another tray of champagne floated past.

“i’m all good.” lily nodded, glancing at him briefly. “you?”

“trying to not look like a bodyguard,” he shrugged. “thankyou for inviting me, too.”

“thankyou for coming. i don’t know what i’d have done on my own.”

the words were about to come out of his mouth, but then it happened.

“lils?”

her smile faltered before she turned, lando saw it. her posture shifted, a little more reserved and precise than previous. 

he walked toward them, navy shirt unbuttoned just a little too far, hair styled to look like he hadn’t tried (but absolutely had), and with the easy swagger of someone used to being in the centre of the room.

“harry, hi.” lily met him with a half-polite hug.

“you look–” he paused, letting his eyes sweep over her in a way she didn’t appreciate. “incredible.”

“thanks. um– this is lando,” she said quickly, stepping back slightly toward the driver. “lando, this is harry.”

lando extended a hand, short and clean. “nice to meet you.”

harry shook it like he’d been asked to participate in a game he didn’t want to play. “didn’t know you were into the whole formula 1 thing, lils.”

“oh, yeah, i am.” she replied, breezy but pointed. “but i’m into good company too.”

his grin thinned slightly, “right.”

he turned away a few moments later, drifting toward the bar like a man who’d realised he was playing second fiddle all of a sudden.

“that’s the guy max is always moaning about?” lando shifted his stance, speaking a little less softly than before.

“yeah.” lily, for some reason, felt the need to avoid his gaze, so she did. 

he didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need to. because, lily felt the shift. like a nozzle had turned ever-so-slightly, turning his temperature just a little colder. the quiet withdrawal, the shortness in his tone, the way his smile looked a tiny bit more forced. but he didn’t move away, didn’t act cold, but he was just less present. as if he’d realised that maybe he shouldn’t be acting the way he was, when she had another man in her life. it didn’t matter, she was max’s sister, he shouldn’t be behaving in that manner anyway. 

but, he stayed polite. attentive, even. but the teasing stopped, the closeness they’d been circling all evening retreated, not massively, but just enough to feel like something was missing.

lily noticed.

and, for the first time in a long time, she found herself wishing that harry had never shown up. 

• • • •

THURSDAY MORNING brought around a normality that lily could definitely get used to. there was just something about the monaco paddock that made the air feel charged – like it buzzed just beneath the skin. the narrow pathways, the glittering harbour at its edge, the low hum of media crews and team radios echoing against polished motorhomes – it was all tightly wound, glamorous chaos. lily had never seen anything like it, even after miami. 

the mclaren garage was a different kind of buzz though – cooler in tone, louder in sound. compressed air hissed from wheel guns, laptops blinked with data streams, and mechanics moved like they were conducting some invisible orchestra. it smelled faintly of tyre rubber and motor oil, sharp and sterile but somehow comforting too.

lando walked beside her, already in his media gear – papaya polo and black shorts, lanyard dangling around his neck, along with the double-ringed necklace he always seemed to wear. his curls were still damp, from the ridiculously quick shower he’d taken before they’d left the apartment together. there was this energy to him – maybe it was kinetic, she wasn’t sure – but he was sharper than usual, as if he was mentally in the car already.

“you really don’t have to give me a tour, lan.” lily told him as they entered the hospitality. “you gave me one in miami.”

“but you haven’t had the monaco edition.” lando replied with a grin, adjusting the pass around his neck. “monaco always hits different.”

he walked past the engineers’ station – desks lined with monitors, headphones slung over chair backs, screens flickering with telemetry data. he explained everything again, half because he loved the sport, half because he clearly liked having her there.

“lando, media pen in two minutes!” a ginger-haired girl called, beckoning lando over to her. 

“go, i’ll survive.” lily nodded, ushering him away and earning a thankful smile from the girl. 

he nodded, gently squeezing her waist as he slipped past. she watched as he walked off toward the pen – a little stiff in the shoulders, a little quieter in his steps than usual.

she turned her gaze back to the garage – only to find a familiar figure watching her with a mild curiosity from a few feet away – who then pushed himself off of the wall and stepped toward her.

“lily, right?” the australian asked, holding out his hand. “i’m oscar.”

“i know,” she laughed, shaking it. “not in a weird way, lando’s mentioned you.”

“could say the same.” oscar nodded. “that’s either good or bad, that he’s mentioned me.”

“all good, he likes you.” 

he smiled, rare – soft and genuine. “that’s nice to hear, and again, i could say the same.”

they chatted easily – about the weather, monaco’s unique energy, and about how exhausting media day actually was. oscar had a dry, understated sense of humour that kept her laughing for longer than she’d expected.

in all honesty, oscar hadn’t expected to like her so quickly. he and lando were almost complete opposites, but there was something disarmingly warm about lily fewtrell. she wasn’t loud or overly confident – the way some people in the paddock pretended to be – she had this calm kind of presence that settled in naturally, like she belonged without ever trying to. she asked questions, but soft ones, ones that didn’t feel pressure-filled or forced. she listened more than she spoke too, but when she did speak, there was a subtle sharpness behind her humour that made him laugh for longer than he’d intended to. 

and the way she said lando talked about him – with that easy smile, like it was obvious lando respected him – made oscar quietly soften, letting his guard down. the driver had expected her to be gorgeous, she was max’s sister, and lando had hovered around her name for a couple weeks now – but really? he’d expected an empty model with no real knowledge of the sport.

he hadn’t expected honesty, or the quiet charm, or how she seemed to beam when oscar brought up his teammate.

“oi,” lando called with a grin. “what are you two conspiring about?”

“your dramatic relationship with… everything.” oscar teased, waving at the papaya driver.

he rolled his eyes, “please don’t scare her off.”

“too late for that.” lily quipped with a laugh.

later in the evening, the paddock transformed into something golden – soft with twilight, the light catching on camera lenses and sunglass frames, everything washed in a golden-blue haze. the pair walked beside each other, lando still clad in papaya and complaining about how uncomfortable the press conference sofa was. her trainers were quiet on the painted walkways, padding along beside him as he casually greeted people – nodding to a mechanic there, fist-bumping a junior driver there.

“there you are,” charles called, waving as they spotted the pair rounding the corner toward them. “thought you were hiding from us.”

“we were.” lando grinned, shaking charles’ hand.

the woman stood behind charles looked like she’d stepped off the pages of vogue itself – effortlessly elegant in a blush-pink tweed co-ord that felt both vintage chanel and distinctly modern at the same time. the cropped jacket hugged her waist, just above the matching mini-skirt that hit mid-thigh and showcased her with unapologetic confidence. even in a paddock full of stylists, models and celebrities – she drew attention, easy and unbothered in the way she carried herself, because she belonged there.

so, when she hugged lily with that warm, familiar smile, she did it like they’d been friends for years, and from the outside it’d have easy to assume just that. 

“i’m alexandra, lovely to meet you,” alexandra smiled, her voice warm and light with an accent that softened all her vowels. “i’ve heard so much about you.”

“i’ve heard that a lot today,” lily laughed softly. “nice to meet you too.”

“i’m stealing her,” the french woman added, looping her arm through lily’s. “go away, boys.”

“wait, where are we going?”

“to get coffee,” she replied cheerfully. “and i’ll give you the girlfriend tour.”

“oh, we’re not–”

“–bye, you two!”

alexandra had picked up on it immediately. she could see it in the way lando leaned in slightly whenever lily spoke. the way he always seemed aware of where she was standing, what expression she was making, if she was too warm, too quiet, too crowded. she’d never seen that look on him before, but it wasn’t one a man wore casually.

charles noticed too. lando, who could be jittery and a little anxious during race weekends, looked anchored. grounded, even. not overly affectionate, not overcompensating, not distracting himself. just calm. attentive in a way charles had never seen before, like someone quiet in him had softly awoken for the time being.

“at least she’ll get to know what she’s dealing with.” charles shrugged as the two girls disappeared together.

lando muttered something under his breath, but the monegasque just grinned. “i like her,” the ferrari driver said quietly. “she’s good for you.”

“i know,” the other driver sighed, pursing his lips. “but she’s max’s sister, so… yeah.”

“and?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “you’re allowed to like someone who’s good for you, you know? no matter who they are.”

lando didn’t reply, just gave charles a look. 

but he didn’t disagree either.

• • • •

THE SCENT of grilled chicken and caesar sauce filled lando’s monaco apartment, rich with garlic, olive oil, and lemon. lily stood in the sleek kitchen, socks on her feet and humming under her breath as she chopped crisp romaine lettuce and tossed it into a bowl beside the halved cherry tomatoes and freshly-shaved parmesan. the girl moved with ease, sleeves rolled-up, hair pinned back into a loose bun as she layered the wraps she’d insisted on making lando. 

“you’re telling me that you just whip this up?” lando leaned against the kitchen island, clad in a matching hoodie and joggers, looking mildly scandalised as he watched her work. “like, casually?”

“i cook for myself all the time, lando.” lily replied, amused. “i don’t live off of uber eats, like some people i know.”

“hey, that’s slander.” he held up his hands.

she smirked, “yes, but is it wrong?”

lando paused, looking down at his feet. “no.”

she placed the wrap on a plate and slid it over to lando, before sitting on the barstool at the kitchen island, nursing a glass of water. he took a bite – a big one – and his eyes widened mid-chew.

“oh my god,” he practically moaned, muffled. “you’re joking.”

lily blinked with a laugh. “in a good way?”

“the best way,” he said, finished the bite and already reaching for more. “you have to send me the recipe for this, please.”

“secret.” she said, smugly.

“i’m marrying you.”

she laughed, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing slightly. “bit forward, norris.”

he chuckled, but didn’t double down. “seriously, you could open a restaurant.”

“or just keep cooking for you?”

“i wouldn’t complain.” he looked at her then – really looked. and for a moment, something she didn’t want to read flickered in his eyes. but, he just smiled.

they ate in comfortable silence for a while, both perched at the island with the quiet hum of monaco nightlife filtering in through the open balcony doors. the city sounded softer from above – car engines humming in the distance, the faint call of seagulls, a burst of laughter from somewhere down below. 

the pair were interrupted though, by the rhythmic buzzing of lily’s phone on the side, and her smile slipped a little the second she saw the name on her screen.

max.

lando, sensing and witnessing her change in demeanour. “you okay?”

“yeah, it’s just max.” she nodded, pursing her lips. “be back in a minute.”

he gave her a subtle nod, then turned back to the kitchen, pretending to be interested in loading the dishwasher as she slipped away – and the door to his bedroom clicked shut behind her.

“hey,” she said, softly.

“you’re all over getty.” max didn’t waste time, apparently.

lily frowned, almost laughing at his bluntness. “hi max, nice to speak to you too, how are you?”

“i’m serious, lily. what the fuck were you doing at the premiere with lando?”

“i invited him.” she replied casually. “i’m staying with him, and i thought he might like to go.”

“you’re what– you know what, nevermind.” her older brother mumbled. “do you know what people are saying?”

“why do you care so much, max?” lily’s stomach turned a little. “you’re the one who brought me to surrey to see him, you’re the one who brought me to miami with you – you don’t expect us to only hang out when you’re around, do you?”

“you’re my sister.” max snapped. “and he’s my best friend. there’s boundaries, lils. and it’s not like lando is ready to settle down like you are–”

“do you not trust me or something?” lily’s voice came quietly, almost hurt. “lando and i are just friends.”

on the other side of the door, lando had paused mid-step to the laundry room, now frozen in the hallway. he hadn’t meant to listen, but lily’s gentle voice carried through the thin walls, and glimpses of max’s more frustrated tone seeped through into the background too. 

“that’s not what this is about, lily.”

“isn’t it? i don’t understand what your issue with this is.”

“just–” he sighed. “just be careful with him, okay? he’s not like… harry, which is probably a good thing– but just… go careful, alright?”

“i’m not a child, max.”

“i know, but you seem to act like one sometimes.”

lily ended the call without saying goodbye. 

she sat on the edge of his bed for a minute, staring at the carpet. her chest felt tight, like every word she so badly wanted to scream at him had tangled up in her throat and left her heart aching. 

outside, lando moved back into the kitchen, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing. a few moments later, she emerged, composed but quiet, her eyes avoiding him.

“everything okay?” he asked gently, shutting the dishwasher.

lily nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, just… brother things.”

he didn’t push, just hummed and started moving toward the fridge.

“dessert?”

that made her laugh, even if only a little. “all you have in your fridge is three-day-old pizza and protein shakes.”

“i’ll find something.”

“if you bring me out an old easter egg–”

he was already halfway to the pantry.

• • • •

FRIDAY MORNING came with the thrum of excitement and lots of anticipation. lily woke early to the smell of coffee and the far-off buzz of drones circling the coastline. the streets of monaco were already alive below the balcony – winding roads closed off, marshals in fluorescent orange guiding teams and fans into position, and the soft, intermittent roar of engines as pit lanes systems checks began. 

she stretched in lando’s bed, the morning sun pouring through the half-closed curtains, and felt a weird mixture of nerves and peace. the kind of quiet waiting that came with feeling completely out of place and entirely at home all at once.

by the time she padded into the kitchen, the apartment was already quietly humming with movement. lando had one airpod in, pacing lightly between sips of coffee and gulping down the protein shake on the countertop, wearing his mclaren team shirt and loose jeans, but no shoes – hair still damp from the shower.

“morning,” he spoke, glancing up and immediately softening when he saw her. “sleep alright?”

“like a baby,” she yawned, leaning on the counter beside him. “you?”

“pretty good, actually.” he shrugged. “breakfast?”

“i can cook some, if you want.” lily smiled.

“you do and i’ll fall in love.”

he said it so casually that it made her heart skip, though she couldn’t tell if he noticed – probably not.

“i’ll take that as a yes.” she teased.

the paddock felt different on practice day. louder, tighter. the air buzzed with heat and pressure, reporters already prowling for quotes and engineers frowning at data tablets like their lives depended on it. lily stayed close to the mclaren garage, tucked out of the way but still within view. lando had essentially told her to hang out wherever she liked, but she didn’t want to be a distraction. she was content with people-watching, sipping her to-go coffee, and soaking up the atmosphere.

jon found her first – she didn’t look out of place anymore, so she was a little more difficult to spot – if anything, she looked like she belonged. confident in her quiet way, comfortable on the soft edges of chaos. he stopped beside her with an easy nod, the same unhurried presence she remembered from miami. 

“thought i’d see you around here,” she smiled. 

jon smiled back, pleased to see the girl. “i didn’t scare you off last time, then.”

“hardly.” she replied, shaking her head.

“lando’s been a lot less… unbearable since you arrived.”

she laughed, a little surprised. “i’ll take that as a compliment, i think.”

“it was meant as one.” he paused, glancing into the garage to see lando deep in conversation with his race engineer. “he’s good when you’re here, less anxious.”

“really?” lily blinked, caught off-guard.

“yeah,” the performance coach said simply. “he’s not an easy person to read, but the difference is obvious.”

her heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.

“i don’t think i do much,” she admitted.

“you do more than you realise,” jon replied, nodding honestly.

she looked down at her coffee cup, unsure of what to reply to that with. no one had ever said something like that to her before – not in a way that felt so steady or sure.

he didn’t press – just nodded and added, “whatever’s going on between you two, it’s good for him.”

she glanced at lando again, who was still listening to his engineer intently, brow furrowed in concentration. but, then he glanced back at her – just briefly – but long enough for his expression to soften.

“i think he’s good for me, too.”

after the chaos of practices and media had settled, the sun had dipped low over the monaco skyline, turning the air golden as shadows stretched long across the paddock. the end of the second free practice session brought a slower rhythm to the once-frantic corridors, crew members wheeling equipment back into trucks, admin staff tapping restlessly at their phones, and a few remaining drivers giving rushed interviews before disappearing into the team motorhomes.

lily walked beside lando, her badge swinging gently at her chest, a navy mclaren hoodie draped loosely around her shoulders – his, oversized and soft. he’d tossed it to her earlier when the breeze had picked up and made a quiet joke about her team loyalty. it hadn’t left her body since.

“hey, lovebirds!”

lando groaned quietly before he turned. “why do i regret this already?”

alexandra was arm-in-arm with charles, who looked way to happy for a man who’d been losing his mind over brake issues all afternoon. they caught up quickly, alexandra slipping in beside lily, charles slinging an arm over lando’s shoulders.

“we were just talking about you two.” he said, squeezing the driver’s shoulder.

“oh no,” lily said, mock-horror blooming across her face. “should i be worried?”

“deeply.” alexandra quipped, sliding her arm through lily’s.

“alex thought you lived here.” charles chimed in.

“not quite.” the british girl laughed.

the french girl tilted her head, smiling. “but you could, couldn’t you?”

there was something light in her voice, curious too – a gentle nudge. lando didn’t say anything, just turned a pretty pink colour and averted his gaze. 

“you’re adjusting to the paddock well,” charles pointed out. “mclaren hoodie, i see? it looks a lot like lando’s.”

“she was cold.” lando, who had up until that point looked like he was begging the ground to swallow him whole, finally looked up. 

“sure,” alexandra said sweetly. “that’s why it’s been doused in your aftershave.”

lando glanced at the fewtrell girl, and something flickered behind his eyes – a little too intent, a little too sharp. then he cleared his throat and looked at charles.

“are we done here, or do you have more embarrassing things to say to me?”

“not even close,” the monegasque laughed. “but we’re going out for dinner, if you want to join?”

“we have dinner plans, sorry.” the mclaren driver thinned his lips into a line, shrugging – to which lily furrowed her eyebrows, as this was also news to her.

alexandra gently took lily’s phone out of her hand and pressed the top of her phone to lily’s, the other’s contact and number drifting onto their screens. 

“there’s my number, text me.” she said, handing the device back to her.

charles and alexandra disappeared down the street, presumably toward the ferrari driver’s home – and lando reached for his car keys. 

“they like you.” he said quietly as they approached the jeep they’d travelled to the track in.

“well, i am wearing your brand.” she laughed, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over her hands.

lando looked at her for a beat longer than he needed to – than he should of. “you wear it well.”

• • • •

QUALIFYING DAY had the mclaren garage humming with tension by the time lando and lily arrived. she walked a step behind him, her paddock pass swinging gently at her chest, sunglasses tucked into the side of her bag. lando glanced back every now and then, like he was checking she was still there – as if they day would go sideways if she wasn’t.

the air was electric – tight with humming anticipation that lived in the sharp corners of formula 1 weekends. engineers muttered over headsets, mechanics moved like clockwork, cameramen trailed journalists like shadows, and the smell of oil and rubber lingered beneath the faint whiff of suncream from the grandstands above.

lily knew better than to hover too close during these moments. so, she hung back near the hospitality, while lando peeled away to change into his papaya race-suit. the british girl sipped a smoothie someone from the kitchen had pressed into her hands, watching as lando didn’t seem to talk much, not even to jon. just nodding, listening, eyes slightly glassy the way they always got when he was thinking too far ahead.

“bit early for the serious face.” she teased when he walked past again.

lando stopped mid-stride and almost laughed. “i can’t help it, it’s monaco.” he shrugged, a soft smile that touched all the corners of his mouth gracing his lips. “does something to me.”

lily tilted her head, “like what?”

“turns my stomach inside out,” he mumbled, then added quieter. “but i like it, i guess.”

before she could reply, a nostalgic, familiar voice called out from behind them. “there’s my boy!”

she turned just as adam norris strode into view, his grin wide and unforgettable. cisca wauman followed close behind, sunglasses perches atop her head and a tote bag slung over her shoulder.

“oh my, lily!” cisca smiled, hugging the girl before her own son.

“cisca!” the girl laughed, embracing the older woman in a hug that came easily. “i didn’t know you two were coming!”

“flight got delayed,” adam added, kissing her cheek briefly. “you’re taller than i remember.”

“you say that every time.” the driver rolled his eyes, hugging both parents briefly. 

lily’s heart did an odd little flutter at the familiarity of it all. she’d grown up in the same social circles, at the same junior karting weekends, family barbeques – she was the girl who used to steal lando’s kinder bars during post-race debriefs, and chased max around with a garden hose in their teens.

adam turned to his son, “you didn’t tell us that lily was coming.”

lando shrugged, “it was sort of last minute.”

“so where are you staying, lily? our hotels might be close together.” cisca asked, looping her arm through the younger girl’s.

“oh, lando’s letting me stay with him.”

adam raised an eyebrow. “we don’t even get that treatment.”

lando’s face went a little pink, but luckily, his mother whisked lily away, demanding all of her life updates since the last time they’d seen each other. “come on, i want to hear everything.”

behind them, adam clapped a hand onto lando’s shoulders. “she’s a good one, you know?”

the driver found himself reddening again. “i know.”

back in the garage, everything had shifted into a tighter rhythm as qualifying loomed closer. lily sat beside cisca, watching the team buzz around lando’s car like bees in a hive, everyone moving to a beat only they could hear. lando passed by one last time, helmet tucked under his arm, before getting in the car. he paused by the two women, as if it was muscle memory.

“wish me luck?” he asked, gaze flitting between the two of them.

“you’ll do amazing, sweetheart.” cisca reassured him, nodding her head.

“you don’t need it.” lily shook her head, tilting it up to look at him.

“still want it, though.”

she smiled, gentle and grounding. “go be brilliant.”

and for a second – just a second – his whole face softened, like he believed her more than he believed anyone else.

as he disappeared into the garage, cisca nudged lily gently. “you know,” she began, gesturing toward her son. “i haven’t seen him like this in forever.”

“like what?”

“he seems settled,” she said simply. “with himself, not with the car or anything.”

lily wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that, so she smiled shyly. her stomach turned over, slow and heavy. because, the thing was – she didn’t know what any of this was. but, lando made her feel steady in a world that spun way too fast. and, maybe that meant something.

or maybe it would later.

she would have thought about it more, if the final few seconds of Q3 weren’t ticking down to zero so soon. qualifying had flickered down to a blur of engine notes and blinking timing screens. lily stood shoulder-to-shoulder with cisca, eyes glued to the television screen inside the mclaren garage. lando had gone green, green, yellow – not his best lap, but it looked well put-together.

the last corner. the line.

the time flashed up.

1:09.954

the noise was instant – a rush of celebration and disbelief colliding as team personnel leapt to their feet. mechanics hugging, engineers high-fiving. zak was already out of his chair, jon’s face cracked wide into a grin. and lando – through the screen – was surprisingly nonchalant about it all, thanking the team.

cisca clapped, “he did it!”

lily blinked at the screen, heart racing. 

sub-seventy seconds.

no one had ever done that.

in monaco, of all places.

she couldn’t stop smiling as she followed the norris parents into parc fermé. lando had already jumped out of the car and launched into his team, hugging them with happiness. his fireproofs were half-unzipped, his curly hair damp with sweat, face flushed and beaming. 

he spotted lily just as she reached the edge of the swarm. 

and she could have sworn – just for a second – the crowd faded around him.

“come here,” he grinned wide, holding out a hand.

she hesitated, only for a moment, before stepping into him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her a little off the ground in a brief, adrenaline-high, giddy squeeze. 

“you were unreal,” she said into his shoulder. 

“i’m convinced you’re a good luck charm,” he said, pulling back. “you’re not allowed to leave, ever.”

she laughed and softly rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, a mclaren media girl appeared beside them – “sorry! lando, quick photo with the trophy?”

lando nodded, still catching his breath, and reached for the tyre-shaped pole position trophy with one hand – the engraved cylinder gleaming under the sun – before gesturing for lily to stay put.

“you’re in it,” he said simply, tugging her a little closer.

“wait–what?”

“count yourself lucky,” he said, glancing down at her briefly. “i hardly let anyone in the mclaren photos with me.”

she laughed, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “i’m honoured.”

so there they stood, side-by-side in the middle of the chaos. lily could feel the weight of eyes around her – the lens clicking, the buzz of the paddock still rippling with his record-breaking lap.

and just before the shutter went off, lando turned. his nose brushed her temple briefly, before his lips pressed a soft, warm kiss to her cheek – “for the cameras,” he mumbled against her skin.

she couldn’t feel her legs for a moment.

lily barely had time to process the gesture before the photographer snapped the photo. a quick flutter of camera clicks, the sound sharp above the murmur of the garage.

she turned to lando, brows raised and smile tugging at her lips. 

“PR is going to hate me.” lando grinned, all boyish mischief and adrenaline. 

the media team thanked them and wandered off, while the driver’s engineer called him back over to look at the run plan for tomorrow’s race. he squeezed lily’s hand quickly, before disappearing – palm still warm from the gloves, fingers rough from years of wear and tear.

she didn’t even try and pretend like her stomach hadn’t just turned itself inside out, twice.

• • • •

LATER IN THE EVENING, the energy had finally begun to simmer down. they left the track just before sundown, slipping out the side entrance after his tedious debriefs. monaco glowed golden under the fading sun, the whole place shimmering with a kind of magic that only came at this time of day. 

in the passenger seat of his black mclaren artura, lily sat with the window cracked, the warm breeze brushing past her hair as they wound back through the narrow streets. lando had the radio low – just enough to fill the silence with something soft and base-heavy.

“you seemed quieter than normal,” she spoke up, not looking at him. “when you were talking to zak.”

he sighed, “i think i scared myself today.”

“how so?” she glanced over.

“i’ve dreamed about getting pole in monaco since i was a kid. and now i’ve done it, but never thought i’d break a record doing it – and now i’m sort of like shit, i need to back it up tomorrow.”

“you will.” lily replied immediately.

he looked at her – brief and fleeting – something unreadable in his eyes. “you always sound so sure.”

“i am sure.”

and maybe it was her certainty that made him soften, feel better about his worries, just a little. as if he could lean into it. just for a moment.

back at the apartment, everything felt a little unreal. 

the award sat casually on the kitchen island like it was a vase or a fruit bowl, the number – 1:09.954 – engraved along the surface in small, elegant print. lily ran her fingers over it while lando changed in the bedroom, trailing the pads of her fingers along the cool material.

“keep touching it and you’ll have to polish it,” came his voice from the hallway.

she looked up. he’d changed into a soft grey t-shirt and navy sweats, his curls still damp and a little unruly. he looked younger like this – softer than the podium pictures and behind-the-scenes snaps ever seemed to show. 

“you should put it with the rest of your trophies and stuff,” she said, nodding at the pole position tyre.

“i’m putting it in the bathroom.” he deadpanned.

she laughed, short and loud. “next to your mouthwash?”

“yeah, real humbling for guests – especially oscar.”

they ended up on the sofa, sharing a packet of lando’s final protein bites, some mindless rerun of love island playing on the television. he sat with one foot tucked underneath him, head tipped slightly toward her, more comfortable than he ever seemed to be in front of cameras or crowds. his energy was different here – not dialled down, but warmer, looser.

at one point, he shuffled a little closer, letting his arm slip behind her shoulders on the couch, letting his hand curl around her upper arm and trace little circles into the skin with his thumb.

she looked up at him, speaking softly – “you good?”

he didn’t answer straight away. just looked at her for a moment too long, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. or maybe what he was feeling.

then, so quietly she almost missed it, he said, “thanks for today.”

lily nudged his knee with her own. “you’re the one who broke the track record, you should thank yourself.”

“i know,” he smiled, internally proud. “but thankyou for being there, i felt calmer than usual.”

she didn’t know what to say to that.

so, she just leaned her head into his shoulder – gently, tentatively, as if she was afraid he’d pull away – and closed her eyes briefly. he didn’t say anything, just rested his head on hers, cheek pressed against her soft brunette roots. just looked down at her hand resting beside his, and laced their pinkies together without thinking.

it meant nothing.

it meant everything.

and yet, neither of them said a word.

• • • •

MONACO on race day was different.

the air was heavier, more expectant. the streets buzzed as if they were holding their breath, and from the second they left the apartment, lily could feel it in lando’s silence – not tense, but focused. tunnel-visioned. like his world had narrowed to seventy-eight laps and nothing else.

they arrived at the paddock just after nine. the sun was already high in the sky and the air was thick with anticipation – teams bustling, mechanics sprinting between trailers, journalists scrambling for interviews. the scent of espresso mixed with burnt rubber and high-octane fuel lingered, a potent perfume that only race day could offer.

lily stood inside of the upstairs hospitality, accompanied by cisca and adam once again, hands tucked lightly into the pockets of the mclaren jacket lando had lended her for the morning – claiming he’d win if she was in papaya. her eyes were glued to the pitlane, watching lando scamper off down the track in the sleek black and orange vehicle, as the hum of radio chatter crackled softly in her ears, punctuated by the thundering roar of engines schooling through the narrow streets below. it was loud, chaotic, yet somehow intimate – like stepping into a world where every heartbeat counted.

the moments stretched. the countdown began. 

five lights on, five lights out. 

she thought she had started going into cardiac arrest when lando locked up into turn one, but he managed to save it and her heartbeat settled somewhat – not really, but she thought that if she told herself that, maybe it would.

lap after lap, he started to edge out a gap. his pace was untouchable, pushing the car to its limits with the grace of a ballet dancer and the ferocity of a future world champion. her breath caught when he clocked in fastest lap after fastest lap, dominating monaco’s winding streets like he was born to race them.

and then, the moment that everyone waited for – some celebrity waving the chequered flag.

lando norris had won the monaco grand prix.

to say the garage exploded would have been an understatement. cheers shrieked, engineers clapped each other on the back, and zak & andrea rushed down to parc ferme, the norris family in tow, lily hurrying along beside adam.

his helmet was off now, hair damp and a little squat from the balaclava, smile breaking free like the sun behind clouds. his exhaustion seemed to melt away when he saw his team, and with a few rushed steps, he was at the barriers, jumping into his crew. 

jon was the one who shoved her to the forefront, letting her stand with her hands curled around the railing for dear life. he spotted her a couple seconds later, and within the blink of an eye, he’d pulled her into a tight, sweaty hug.

“i did it, lala!” he grinned, pressing his face into her shoulder.

“told you so.” lily laughed softly, fingers tracing the sweat on the back of his neck.

flushed and triumphant, lando turned and leant in – pressing a soft, genuine kiss to lily’s cheek, nose brushing her temple. 

“for real this time,” he whispered – no teasing, no fanfare, for real.

the team gathered, ushering him off to the cooldown room, and he whispered something inaudible in her ear, breath fanning her neck before he pulled away, squeezing her hand and rushing off. 

lily’s heart fluttered in her chest, and just grinned, feeling like she belonged – right here, right now, with him – but boy, max was going to kill her, and maybe lando too this time.

the anthem played above them, the hum of ‘god save our king’ echoing out through the french streets. monaco’s harbour glimmered under the late-afternoon sun, champagne bottles waited patiently to be sprayed over the cheering crowd – and lando stood in the centre of it all, victor of the most glamorous race in formula 1, if not, the world.

the british girl craned her neck from below the stage, tucked between jon and will, her eyes never leaving him. she was sure she had caverns in her cheeks from smiling.

and then, he looked down – right at her.

and winked.

smooth and teasing, subtle enough that it could mean nothing, but obvious enough that the media would eat it up. nevertheless, it send a jolt through her chest that made her feel sixteen again, and her stomach flipped as she tried to play it cool, softly rolling her eyes and smiling at him. it should mean nothing, but it definitely meant everything.

one of monaco’s rooftop lounges hosted the afterparty. the terrace overlooked the glowing curve of the coastline, and the entire paddock scene had shown up to celebrate lando’s glorious win. music pulsed through the velvet night, champagne flowed like water, and the principality around them sparkled like it had stepped out of a dream he’d not quite finished with.

lando leaned against the balcony railing, dressed down in a simple white shirt and black slacks, sipping on a red bull while everyone else laughed with cocktails in hand. his face was a little flushed, partly post-race-win glow – though the adrenaline had finally started to settle – but partially from the hazy heat of the night.

lily was by the bar getting a drink, stood in a black satin slip dress, the mclaren lanyard from earlier stuffed into her clutch, hair tousled from the sea breeze. 

“no champagne?” lily stepped up beside him, the sea breeze catching her fly-aways. 

he smiled sideways. “not drinking this season,” he shrugged. “gotta focus on racing.”

she looked down at her own glass – of lemonade – and tapped it gently against the side of his can. “i figured, didn’t want you to be the only sober one.”

lando’s eyes softened instantly. “you didn’t have to–”

“–i wanted to, though.” she interrupted simply.

the music faded beneath them, drowned out by the sound of the waves far below and the soft thrum of their own silence. for a moment, lily swore the whole world narrowed to just this balcony, just this view, just him – just them.

lando thought to himself – maybe still high on that winning feeling – that this could be what winning really felt like.

but they just kept getting interrupted – every few minutes, someone came over, a driver, brand rep, team member with a drink in one hand and a congratulations on their lips.

he smiled. said thanks. took photos.

but, he didn’t let go of her, not once.

not in an obvious way – he wasn’t clingy, never possessive – but every time someone new approached, he’d glance sideways briefly to check she hadn’t slipped away. his fingers occasionally brushed her arm, lower back, wrist – like gravity.

after a while – and after lily had muttered something about being cold – they made their way into the booths just inside of the club. the music was louder, thumped a little deeper in their ears. lily leaned against the wall, and lando stood beside her, definitely closer than he needed to be.

“home?” he asked, leaning closer to her.

“yeah, home.”

• • • •

THE MORNING brought about a soft quietness that only muted light could offer.

for a moment, she lay still, cocooned in the aftermath of yesterday’s glory – the champagne, the cheers, the warmth of lando’s lips on her cheek, his hand on her waist as they snuck out of the party thrown for him.

her phone buzzed faintly on the bedside table, so she reached for it, blinking at the screen in the dim visibility of the room.

you have 5 missed calls from max.

her stomach dipped.

lily padded out of the bedroom, clad in some loose navy shorts and a matching tank top. the apartment was still and warm with the morning haze – the sliding glass doors open, the sea breeze drifting in, and lando was already seated at the breakfast bar, sipping apple juice in grey sweats and a black t-shirt.

“good morning,” he smiled, eyes crinkling. 

“morning,” she echoed, voice a little scratchy.

her phone buzzed. again, rhythmic and annoying.

“everything okay?” lando asked, catching the look she gave the device as she pulled it out of her pocket.

“max,” lily sighed. “five missed calls this morning.”

he scrunched his nose, breathing out in sympathy. 

she slipped onto a chair and pulled her knees up to her chest. lando didn’t say anything as she pressed the phone to her ear – just gave a small supportive nod as he reached for a banana. 

“finally,” max’s voice rang sharply through the speakers – loud enough for lando to hear it. “i’ve been trying to get through for hours.”

“sorry, i was asleep.” she replied quietly.

“recovering from all that champagne and having your tongue down lando’s throat?” 

lily froze, eyebrows furrowing. “what?”

“i saw you in parc fermé, and on mclaren’s instagram.” her brother said, cold in tone.

her mouth went dry, throat tightened as if there was actually something wrong with it all. “it’s not like that, max.”

“you’re so fucking naive,” he groaned. “you always do this, lily. lando isn’t like all the other guys you meet back in london, he’s busy and he doesn’t have time for you.”

“he’s nice to you when it suits him – you’re just convenient for him.” max continued. “you’re going to get hurt, lils, he doesn’t actually like you like that.”

“i know he doesn’t – it’s not like that, we’re just friends.”

“i know him, and i know you.” he sighed. “it looks like you’re playing happy families with someone who has a whole roster of girls he forgets about the second he gets on a plane.”

“why are you being so mean?” her voice wobbled a little, resting her head on her knees.

“you just think you’re different, lils. you’re not, you’re just next.”

there was silence on the line – not tension, not regret, just silence.

the warm device was gently pulled from her fingers within a few seconds, and she looked up at the driver, who now had her phone at his ear.

“max?” lando said into the receiver, tone clipped. “don’t speak to her like that ever again”

another pause. lando’s jaw flexed.

“yeah, hi buddy.” he pursed his lips, speaking sarcastically. 

she heard max’s voice on the other end of the line, but she couldn’t make out what he was actually saying; her heart thumping in her ears was just too loud.

“i don’t care, max.” lando raised his voice, firm but still calm. “for one, you can’t police her life, so back the fuck off. and you can’t tell me what to do either.”

more silence. lando’s eyes flitted to meet her own for a second.

“you’re fucked off?” he laughed. “you’ve essentially just said you don’t trust me, behind my back – how the fuck do you think i feel, max?”

silence, again. max must have calmed down a bit now.

“alright, see you in london.” lando mumbled, before ending the call.

she was just sitting there, gazing at the british man as he looked back at her.

“i’m sorry,” the driver said, immediately softer as he turned to her. “i didn’t mean to take over or anything–”

“no,” she whispered, getting up. “thankyou.”

he stepped toward her quickly, pulling her into his arms without hesitation. she sank into him instantly, hands curling into the back of his hoodie. lando pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, arms circling her waist, murmuring. “he was out of line, lala.”

“he’s my brother,” she mumbled against his chest.

“he’s an arsehole.”

she didn’t argue, just stayed there for a long moment, just breathing. 

eventually, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers. 

“you okay?” lando asked.

his fingers traced just under her jaw – way too intimate to mean nothing. “good.”

she smiled – barely – and leant into him again.

outside, monaco carried on with its monday morning, glittering and loud and golden.

but in lando’s apartment, they were in their own little world, wrapped up in each other and quiet.

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© norrisjpg 2025

[norrisjpg]

── ☆ champagne & complications

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series: my kind of woman, LN⁴

content: the miami grand prix, swearing, mclaren's team strategy, zak brown being oblivious

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: hey everyone! i am on a rollllll, and feeling super motivated. i also watched the entire team redline stream last night and honestly max is so funny i can't even - and on that note, i have opened a max blog! nothing is posted on there as of yet, but i do have a fic in the works. enjoy!

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THE MIAMI HEAT hit like a punch to the chest as soon as she stepped off of the air-conditioned paddock shuttle. humid, blinding, and impossible to ignore, let alone avoid. lily winced, taking a deep breath and adjusting her sunglasses as she looked around the bustling paddock – taking in the sound of generators, turbocharged engines, and distant team chatter.

“i swear it wasn’t this hot last time.” max muttered beside her, pulling his cap off and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“you say that everytime we go somewhere that’s not england.” lily quipped, rolling her eyes. 

lando’s invitation to max had backfired, in his favour for once. pietra had an unmissable modelling shoot so she wasn’t able to attend the race weekend – providing lily with a perfect opening. but again, lando wasn’t aware of the younger girl’s presence yet, and she didn’t know that he hadn’t been told she was there either – great job, max.

max gave a shrug and turned to face her, paddock pass around his neck swinging. “no i don’t. anyway, welcome to miami, try not to melt.”

“i am already,” lily muttered, adjusting her tank top on her lower back. “how far away is the hospitality?”

“like a ten minute walk i think?” the brit shrugged, like a ten minute walk wasn’t about to feel like miles to them, and as if he wasn’t going to complain the whole way.

her nerves knotted a little tighter as the engine revs got louder, and the luxe papaya hospitality building came into view. she was walking onto his turf unannounced, again. she was hopeful that they’d fall back into their normalness like they had at the weekend, and that he’d be his usual self – kind and sweet to her. but she wasn’t so sure, she’d never been in the mclaren garage on a race weekend, let alone when he was stressed and fighting for the lead of the championship. 

“this is a mistake,” lily said to her brother as they walked up the stairs. “i don’t want to throw him off or something.”

“don’t be so dramatic, el.” max replied, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. “it’s character-building.”

“you said that when i broke my arm after you pushed me out of a tree.”

“well, it still is.” he gave her a stupid grin, fiddling with his lanyard as he plopped down on one of the couches. “besides, it’s not like you had better plans this weekend.”

“i was planning to see harry, actually.”

“like i said, not like you had better plans.” he repeated, shrugged. “i’ll see you in a bit, i’ve got some hilton stuff to do in the stadium.”

“are you kidding–”

“later, sis!” 

before she could say anything else – which was probably for the best – max was disappearing back down the stairs with a wave and quick glance. typical max. drop her in the deep end and then swan off somewhere else.

she lingered near the staircase, toying with the bracelet on her wrist as she tried to muster up the courage to walk downstairs and explore the paddock. the unit was buzzing – hospitality staff constantly moving between floors, fans clustered at the fences, mechanics rushing back and forth between the garage and the motorhome. everything was bright and loud and a little too fast.

and then she saw him.

cap pulled low, head down, clad in his mclaren kit. race suit rolled and hanging around his hips, fireproof undershirt clinging to his torso. he looked flushed from the heat, or maybe from rushing around – either way he looked hot.

he hadn’t seen her yet. he was walking up the stairs with purpose, eyes glued in front of him like he had somewhere very important to be. lando just so happened to scan to his right, and their eyes locked, just for a second – but it stopped him in his tracks.

“lily?” his brows pulled together slightly, a surprised expression crossing his face. “i didn’t know you were coming?”

“sorry, didn’t max tell you?” she winced as she spoke, shifting on her feet nervously. 

“no, it’s a nice surprise though.” his voice softened, a smile gracing his lips. “you good?”

“a little nervous, it’s um… it’s a lot here.” lily nodded, glancing around. “are you?”

“hot, very hot.” 

she hummed in agreement, nodding her head and avoiding his gaze for a couple seconds. “yeah, sorry max didn’t tell you, we only decided on like… tuesday – p had a shoot.”

“oh, i see.” lando pursed his lips, but the look in his eyes never wavered. “don’t apologise though, it’s good to have you here.”

“uhm… thankyou.” she smiled. 

“have you ever been in a garage before, like at a race?” he asked, tilting his head.

“not properly.” 

“criminal behaviour from your brother.” he shook his head, taking a step back from the stairwell so there was enough space for her to squeeze in front of him. “come on, let me fix that.”

“it’s okay, you’re really busy–”

“come on,” he repeated. “let me give you a deluxe tour – i’ll take you places even max hasn’t been.”

lily smiled appreciatively, and walked down the stairs in front of him, grateful for the movement – and even more grateful for how normal he was making all of this feel. and just like that, lando norris was guiding her through the paddock, her heart pounding in a rhythm only he ever seemed able to disturb.

• • • •

THE MCLAREN GARAGE was a cluster of engineers tapping away at tablets and mechanics elbow-deep in machinery. towering stacks of tyres with two names on them were loaded into their designated spaces, making everything seem carefully orchestrated – like a live performance, only the lead actors wore fireproof suits, and the supporting cast lived in headsets.

the pair stopped near the back wall of the garage, where two driver headsets hung from their hooks beside a sleek monitor glowing starkly with live data. lando reached for the one with ‘LN4’ printed neatly on the sides. 

“c’mere.” he said gently, motioning for lily to get closer to him. 

“hm?” she hesitated, brows lifting as he held out the item. 

“just–” he stepped closer to her, fingers brushing her face as he slid the headset down over her ears. “trust me.”

lily held still, hardly breathing at all, the faint scent of polo red drifting through the heat around them. his fingers grazed the side of her neck as he adjusted the size, and a current practically zipped down her spine – sharp and unexpected.

a collection of precise words filled the headset – voices overlapping, data being exchanged, tyres being discussed like sacred artifacts. the world sharpened in her ears. engineers talked in clipped phrases, strategies cross-referenced with cool precision. one voice called out lando’s lap deltas; another referenced oscar’s tire temperatures. it was intimate in a whole new way – a language she didn’t understand, but one that lando lived by.

she turned her head slightly, eyes slightly wider than usual – he leant in, mouth near her ear so that she could hear him through the noise.

“that’s what i hear before every quali, every race, any time i go out on track.”

“it’s intense.” she swallowed, nodding her head.

“only place i don’t overthink things.” he said, gently taking the headset off of her head, leaning down a little so his face was level with hers.

for a moment, it felt like the rest of the garage had disappeared. the noise dulled, the buzz softened, and they were standing too close in a space that wasn’t meant for moments like these. his expression was open in a way she’d hadn’t seen before, not even over the previous weekend. a flicker of vulnerability under all the easy charm.

“most people think i just wing it.” he smiled, small and a little crooked.

“how on earth do you stay calm?” she asked, voice quiet enough to be heard by only lando. 

“i don’t,” lando admitted. “not really. i’ve just… learnt to breathe through it.”

“doesn’t it all get a bit much sometimes?” her gaze dropped to his mouth, then back to his eyes.

he hesitated, “yeah, it does.”

it was quiet, almost confessional – the type that wasn’t mean for press conferences or a netflix microphone. just for her ears, and her only. 

“you don’t wing it,” lily said softly. “it’s all right there.”

he looked at her – really looked – something unspoken shifting in the way he held her gaze. vulnerable. not unguarded, but reluctant to be seen.

“no one’s ever said that to me.”

the fewtrell girl gave a small, shy smile, “then no one is paying enough attention.”

lando’s mouth curved gently, but his eyes stayed serious. for a heartbeat, neither of them moved. she was sure that if she leant in, then they’d be a lot closer than they were allowed to be. but what she wasn’t certain of was the look he was giving her, pliant and almost desperate. the air between them crackled – not just with attraction, but understanding. a quiet, undeniable gravity.

then someone called out his name – sharp and professional – and the spell snapped like a taut-pulled thread.

“quick, follow me,” he said quietly, “let me show you my driver room before i get dragged off to another briefing.”

his hand slipped over hers, tugging her back out toward the paddock and through the chaos. lily followed him, steps steadier than her heartbeat as fans swarmed him. his grip on her hand tightened a little as the crowd thickened, keeping her with him. 

“jesus fuckin’ christ.” lando mumbled as the doors slid shut behind them. 

“tell me about it.” she laughed, slightly overwhelmed by the volume of people and the fact that lando was still holding her hand.

“i’m this way,” he nodded, gently guiding her down the hallway toward the door labled – lando norris. 

the room was small, cooler than the garage had been, more clinical and less personal than she’d expected. there was a grey couch underneath a mirror, a doorless wardrobe, a mini-fridge humming away in the corner filled to the brim with monster energy cans, along with a built-in bathroom. it smelt like him too – lemon and cedarwood and cologne. 

“it’s… blander, than i was expecting at least.” she said quietly, glancing around the small room.

“disappointed?” lando rolled his eyes playfully.

“tiny bit.”

“i’ll tell zak to add a disco ball for next year.”

she laughed and dropped onto the couch, exhaling softly. “is this where you go when you want to be alone?”

“sometimes,” he replied, shrugging as he plopped down next to her. “or i’ll just sit in the car with my helmet on and pretend my radio isn’t working.”

lily chuckled softly, before sobering. “do you like the silence?”

“sometimes, it depends what kind of loud i’m escaping from.” he said with no hesitation. 

she nodded, understanding more than he knew. they sat there for a couple minutes, lando’s body leaning into her own ever-so-slightly, legs pressed together. 

he checked the richard mille on his wrist – “i’ve got a sponsor block in ten, you can stay in here if you want.”

“it’s okay, i should probably get back upstairs, max will be back soon.” lily said, standing and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “thankyou, for showing me all this.”

lando smiled, a little tired but clearly genuine. “you’re not just any other guest, you know?”

“what do you mean?”

“you’re max’s sister, and more importantly, you’re you.”

there was something in the way he spoke to her – a subtle weight, like the sentence meant more than the content of the words. like he was giving her space in his world and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it just yet.

he smiled at her thoughtful silence, “see you after quali, yeah?”

“yeah, good luck, lan.”

• • • •

THE REST OF THE MORNING passed in a blur of heatwaves and engine echoes. lando had hurried off toward a flurry of sponsors, media, and his own carefully-constructed routine before qualifying, while lily lingered just inside the cool air-conditioned lounge with a bottle of water and her phone.

although her and max were chatting way about who they thought was going to get pole position, her mind stayed behind – back in the garage, the headset, the softness of lando’s voice and the hotness of his breath on her skin. the subtle moment before something pulled him away – before something shifted and everything returned to normality.

it had been nothing, so why did it feel like something?

lily, in the end, didn’t have much time to think about it – because soon, a mclaren staff member was ushering them to the papaya garage and handing them headsets to wear at the back of the garage.

he was there, of course. lando was clad in his relatively tight race-suit, hanging around his race engineer with his fluorescent helmet on, visor flicked upward so his piercing eyes were visible. the driver was frowning, furrowing his eyebrows at what the older man was saying, and shrugging. he’d glanced over, gave a small wave and a wink – small enough to mean nothing, big enough to make her heart thump a little faster.

the moment lando lowered himself into the cockpit, the world outside narrowed to engine noise, brake pressure, and the pulse pounding in his ears. qualifying was about two things – speed and precision under pressure, threading the car through every apex with brutally unforgiving accuracy. one twitch too early, one fraction too late, and the lap was pointless. inside the helmet, his breathing was measured but sharp, like a man running toward something he couldn’t afford to miss. the radio crackled in his ears, his engineer checking it was working before feeding him data – it was muscle memory, and lando wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

from her standing position in the back corner, lily watched the monitors with slightly wide, unmoving eyes, her fingers clenched around the edge of her mclaren pass. to the outside world, qualifying was clinical – data, lap times, sector splits – but in person? it felt like standing at the edge of something volatile. his car slipped out of the garage and drove down toward the pit exit, ready to put on a good show in the papaya monster. 

the way he drove was relentless, razor-sharp – no hesitation, no room for error or doubt itself – and yet it wasn’t just the precision that held her attention. it was the weight behind it, the need. she could see it in the way he moved, the way his hands twitched on the wheel in the replay footage, like he was chasing something more than pole position. as if this mattered in a way no one else could understand. 

second place on the grid, behind max verstappen. 

he seemed happy, smiled for the cameras and was as charismatic as usual. 

but he really smiled when he re-entered the garage after all of the media obligations and defriefs from the team – making a beeline for max and lily.

“nice one, mate.” her brother patted his shoulder firmly, nodding his head.

“yeah, congratulations, lan.” lily nodded with a smile, watching the little glint in his eyes return.

“thanks guys,” he smiled. “i have like a thirty minute break before more interviews, what do you want to do?”

“i said i’d catch up with oscar at some point.” max told them. “haven’t seen the bloke in a while.”

“alright, see you in a bit.” lando replied, nodding as the boy headed off toward the other side of the garage. “come on, you.”

“hm, where are we going?”

“there’s quite a few people i’d like you to meet.” the driver explained, before mumbling, more to himself –  “my performance coach is upstairs, actually.”

lando gestured to the flight of stairs she’d already been up and down at least four times, and guided her toward them, his hand lingering on her lower back.

“jon!” lando called, and a man with a beard and glasses replied, looking up from a table.

“yes?” jon replied, as lando and lily walked over to him, sat down with a laptop open in front of him. “oh, is this lily?”

“i–yeah. hi.” she blinked, smiling politely.

the older man held out his hand, warm and firm. “i’m jon, lando’s performance coach – basically means i stop him from eating whole tubs of nutella on race weekends.”

“lovely to meet you, jon.”

“i’ve heard a lot about you this week.” he said, sending lando a look.

lando’s cheeks heated up, “right, we’re going there.”

“oh, really?” lily laughed nervously. “all good things, i hope…?”

“actually yeah, lando won’t–”

“–and okay! got to go jon, we’ve got lots of people to see!” the brit interrupted cheerfully, grabbing lily’s hand and whisking her away.

“bye jon!” the girl laughed, earning a wave from the performance coach.

outside, the miami sun was still blazing, and the air was rich with humidity and noise – fans calling from barricades, team members rushing between motorhomes, flashes of cameras capturing every sliver of a movement. lando walked closer to her, head down slightly, but not avoiding attention so much as managing it.

“you alright?” he asked as they passed a crew of sky sports cameramen setting up outside of the red bull hospitality. 

“yeah — just lots of people.” lily shrugged softly, glancing upward at him fleetingly. 

“well, i wanted to introduce you to max and camila.” he gently nudged her shoulder with his own. 

she nodded, “yeah, okay.”

he grinned, and then, just ahead – another figure appeared from the red bull motorhome. unmistakable in posture and calm in presence. max verstappen. he was laughing at something a curly-haired woman had said, her elegant figure walking beside him in a chic, soft blue dress that was effortlessly flawless.

“oi,” lando called casually. “max, cam.”

max turned first, a smile gracing his lips. “lando.”

his eyes flitted to lily, and his brows rose slightly in a lack of recognition. “i don’t think we’ve met, i’m max.”

“i’m lily, nice to meet you.” she replied politely, shaking the hand he held out to her. 

“ah, you’re lily.” camila realised, like a lightbulb had flicked on in her brain. “i’m camila.”

“hi camila.” lily replied softly, briefly furrowing her eyebrows at the girl’s revelation.

she didn’t catch it, but the mclaren driver to her left sent the pair a warning glare, which seemed to steer them away from the incoming topic of conversation – something along the lines of lando has told us a lot about you.

the conversation was easy, as if they were old friends catching up. camila had immediately disarmed lily with her lightly musical brazilian accent, she was softer than she’d originally perceived, and the youngest fewtrell sibling immediately liked her. max was different to what she’d expected too – if anything, he was more immature than lando was, giggling at boyish jokes lando would make and quickly responding with similar humour – it felt… real. like something that had always been and never wouldn’t be. 

“see you around.” camila had said, giving lily one more kind smile and a wave before they slipped away to the myriad of cameras and microphones – max adding in, “bye guys!”

once the pair were out of earshot, which lily checked quite a few times, she turned to lando. “they’re not what i expected.”

he raised a brow, “you and camila seemed to get along really well, so i assume better than expected?”

“way better, camila’s lovely, max is really funny, actually.”

“she is, terrifyingly perceptive, but yeah – lovely.” lando agreed. “you fit in here, you know?”

“i’m trying.” she laughed softly. 

“no, seriously – it’s like you belong here, you’re doing great.”

and for the first time all day, lily let herself believe that might actually be true.

• • • •

SUNDAY ARRIVED with it’s usual electricity – race day tension always had a way of clinging to the paddock like static in the humid florida air. the grandstands were packed, swaying with papaya flags, camera lenses, and practically vibrating with chants. lily stood just outside the mclaren hospitality suite, leaning against the railing with a bottle of water pressed against her wrist, watching the world surge around her in precisely controlled chaos. 

max had told her they were going to head to the grid once the cars were there, to support lando and maybe have a chat with martin brundle. pietra had texted her early in the morning, with a picture of pancakes in portugal, followed by a stream of emojis which could have meant literally anything, from i miss you or tell max to cut his hair. 

lando had stopped by the suite briefly that morning, still in his hoodie, curls damp and a little unruly from a cold shower. “you’ll hear me before you see me,” he’d joked, gesturing toward the radio pack on the table. 

she’d laughed, telling him to be safe and wishing him good luck. 

even from her tucked-away position inside the garage, lily could feel the intensity of the race as it unfolded – heart-hammering overtakes, radios full of clipped instructions and foreign terminology, a barely-there gap between lando and oscar that had stretched and shrunk like an elastic band all afternoon. when the british driver crossed the line in second place, the garage exploded in celebration – another successful weekend, another mclaren one-two. but, she’d caught it immediately, the subtle dip in his expression as he watched zak and andrea hug oscar, the shadow just behind his smile as they simply shook his hand. 

the podium ceremony was miami glitter: palm tree confetti, flamingo-coloured banners, champagne mist caught in the sunlight. lando stood one step down from oscar, eyes squinting against the brightness. he clapped when it was expected of him, posed for photos, even sprayed oscar with the fizzy liquid, laughed when oscar tried to do the same to him – but it didn’t fully reach his eyes.

“hell of a result, huh?”

the voice came from her left as she looked up at the podium. zak brown.

she straightened, giving him a polite smile. “definitely.”

zak didn’t seem to notice her unease. he was already turned fully to the podium, arms folded proudly over his chest. “oscar’s on another level this season, no errors, the mark of a future world champion right there.”

lily nodded, lips tight. “mhm, he’s been impressive.”

“a real asset, we’re lucky to have him.” zak chuckled, oblivious.

something about the use of lucky rubbed her the wrong way. her eyes flicked up to the stage, where the three were making their way off of the podium. 

lily turned slightly, voice soft but firm – “lando drive an impressive race too, those last ten laps – i don’t think anyone could have handled that pressure like he did.”

the man blinked, almost caught off-guard by her tone. 

“he’s been consistent all weekend,” she added. “and honestly, the way he fought through that middle stint was so impressive.”

“yeah, true. lando did great too.”

before he could even think about pivoting back to oscar, lily offered him a small smile, turning to leave already – “i should go find my brother, have a nice rest of your day.”

she didn’t wait for a reply.

• • • •

POST-RACE NOISE had dulled down, the shadows of the paddock had stretched long across the asphalt, and lily found herself wondering back to the mclaren unit with max. the energy was quieter now – crew members coiling cables, engineers packing away laptops, sponsors sipping drinks in the upstairs lounge.

they didn’t expect to find lando there. she’d figured he’d be busy in debriefs, or somewhere private, but when they stepped through the glass door, he was sitting at one of the small corner tables, with jon, near the back. he’d changed into a black mclaren polo, curls damp once again from either podium champagne or a shower. a can of monster sat untouched beside him. 

he looked up at the two encroaching people, internally assuming they were fans or something and ready to put on a polite smile – but when he saw the two, a real smile tugged at the corners of his mouth – not the media-trained one, not the clipped and tired post-race version. just something soft, and real.

“there you are,” he said, making jon turn his head toward the pair. 

“ah, hey lily,” jon smiled. “hi max.”

“hey,” lily responded, feeling like she was interrupting something, max responding in tandem.

“okay, we’re done anyway, lando. you’re free to go when you want.” jon stood up, shutting his laptop. “i’m sure i’ll see you two soon, have a nice week.”

“thanks jon, see you tomorrow.” the driver waved, frowning as max took jon’s seat as he walked away. “dude, you have no manners, let her sit down.”

“get your own chair.” max poked his tongue out childishly, making lily laugh. 

“knob.” lily laughed, grabbing a different chair and sitting down in between the two boys.

it wasn’t until later, when max was flat-out in the back seats of the rental car lando had for the weekend, that he brought it up.

“jon told me what you said to zak,” lando spoke quietly, glancing over at the woman in the passenger seat. “he was stood in front of you.”

“oh,” lily pursed her lips. “yeah, sorry about that.”

“nothing to be sorry for, i was going to thank you.” he explained. “he doesn’t do it on purpose, you know? he does it oscar sometimes when i win.”

“but?” lily said for him, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

“i should be happy with second, you know? it’s points, it’s progress, but–”

“–it feels like it doesn’t belong to you.”

“exactly.” 

the silence hung, gentle and soft, comfortable and much needed. lily couldn’t understand how he was feeling – she hated it when people told her they understood how she felt – but she knew what he meant by what he was saying, and how he hesitated in telling her, like he wasn’t allowed to vocalise his feelings. 

he smiled, genuine and thankful – and for the first time in a while, something shifted in lando’s very soul, something deep and meaningful. 

he just hadn’t realised it yet.

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taglist: @verogonewild @tvdtw4ever @shawnscurlz @f1fantasys @hescrush @stonseylove @irisesinthegarden @unfuckwitabella @mayax2o07 @curlylando @graceln4

i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

© norrisjpg 2025

[norrisjpg]

hi lovely! are you still updating only angel at all? no rish obviously!! just curious 💘

hiii, i'm currently focusing on 'my kind of woman' because i realised i cannot write two series at once with everything going on in my life! my plan is to revamp the series once i've finished my current lando fic!

[norrisjpg]

── ☆ tea talks & torn paper

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series: my kind of woman, LN⁴

content: swearing, max & pietra being adorable, soft lando, relationship advice, torn pages, unspoken feelings and a little bit of tension

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: hi everyone, ever so sorry i went quiet on you all! i was having a bit of an unmotivated era and literally gave up on life itself! but, i've had a mental reset and i'm ready to get back at writing again. so, i really hope you enjoy this one, and welcome to the world of my kind of woman!

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LILY’S FRIDAY AFTERNOON wasn’t supposed to look like this. 

her small suitcase had been packed, outfits meticulously chosen, and nervous system prepared for a full-on media blitz at the book launch she’d been anticipating for weeks. but, when the publishing company had abruptly postponed the event due to some sort of logistical complication, lily had found herself with an unclaimed weekend and a non-refundable train ticket to oxford.

“so, you’re sure you don’t want to reschedule this book launch thing?” the brit piped up from the couch. 

“it’s not reschedulable, you knob.” lily rolled her eyes as she placed her once-packed shoes back on the rack. “the whole thing was canned.”

“what a shame,” pietra teased, walking over to the couch and flopping down next to her boyfriend. “i was really looking forward to my saturday night voice notes about how some sweaty guy grabbed your ass.”

“thankyou p.” the younger fewtrell gave her a deadpan look.

“so welcome.” the girl grinned.

“the offer to come with me and p is still there,” max said breezily. “if you want it, of course. it’ll be fun, he has like ten spare rooms, and you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“you’re not giving me much time to think about this.” she frowned, zipping the suitcase back up.

“because i know you, el.” her brother replied. “you’ll just be in your flat all weekend, reading something sappy and avoiding socialisation – or god forbid, you spend it with harry.”

“hey, leave harry out of this – and maybe i like being a recluse.”

“oh, we’re going golfing too, so pack some golf-friendly clothes.” he pointed out, trying to think of any other things she should know. “and lando has a hot-tub, and a sauna, and a gym… actually just pack for everything.”

“does he even know i’m coming?” she asked, still contemplating whether she should just bale on her not-certain plans already.

“he’s lando, he’d probably forget even if i did tell him.” max shrugged casually, earning a hand to the shoulder from pietra.

“lily, it’ll be fine. lando likes you, you like lando. it’s not like he’s going to make you sleep on the driveway – so you’re not uninvited, just a… nice surprise.”

“okay, i’ll come, when are we leaving?” lily sighed, wheeling her case toward her bedroom. 

max checked his watch, “in thirty.” 

• • • •

THE BACKSEATS of max’s audi were surprisingly spacious, allowing lily to stretch her legs out across the seats, and lean on the pillow she’d brought with her. the spine of her latest read was pressed against her knee, a good girl’s guide to murder printed neatly in black and red on a white background. she’d been meaning to read it for years now, but she’d never quite gotten around to opening the front page – so this was a good excuse, an hours drive to get stuck in.

invested in the teenager’s journey, she had neglected to notice that max had indicated down a tree-lined driveway, and that lando’s surrey pad had come into view – sleek, modern lines softened by ivy-covered walls and warm yellow lights pouring from the interior. 

lando and lily had known each other since they were fifteen, meeting at one of max’s karting races. he’d been awkward and geeky, gushing over engine types and tyre wear, but always sweet and polite with her, if a little nervous sometimes. but the last time she’d seen him was almost a year ago. he’d filled out (obviously, formula 1 drivers aren’t exactly stick-like), and he was charming, making her laugh with well-polished wit and the same immature humour she’d grown to love in their childhood. he’d been effortlessly kind, gentle, sweet in an undemanding way that didn’t make her feel like she had to perform. 

“i still feel weird showing up unannounced.” lily mumbled as she closed her book and carefully placed it into her bag. 

“as my wonderful girlfriend said, just a delightful surprise.” max quoted pietra, shutting the driver’s side door. 

she grumbled something in response, walking around toward the boot of the audi, intending on hauling her suitcase out of the vehicle – but it was short-lived, because the subject of her worries stepped out of the front door with a wide grin on his face.

“hey lovebirds.” lando chimed, skipping down the front steps like the child he was – and not quite noticing the other girl stood behind the car. 

the driver gave the pair a quick hug, “how was your drive?”

“lily wouldn’t stop stressing out about the fact that you didn’t know she was coming.” max blurted, making his sister poke her head out from the rear of the audi.

“hi lando.” she waved with a small, sheepish smile. 

if he wasn’t already smiling, he was practically beaming now. lando’s features softened and lit up at the same time, and he laughed softly, quickly heading toward her. 

“hi lala.” the mclaren driver said quietly, casually embracing the girl as if he’d been waiting for this day – his hoodie smelled like cedarwood and lemon, and it assaulted her senses like a homely candle. “how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been good, thankyou.” she smiled. “you?”

“never better,” lando nodded, gaze flitting over her features as he spoke. “let me get your stuff.”

“it’s okay–” she was cut off by lando easily picking her bag up. “thankyou. you’re sure you don’t mind me crashing here for the weekend?”

“are you kidding?” the brit laughed, “you’ve just improved the guestlist.”

pietra looked at max, raising her eyebrows in that same way she always did, earning an eye roll from her boyfriend. the couple (code for max) grabbed their bags, and then the two of them headed into the house. 

“come on, you can pick your room.” lando nodded, reaching up and closing the boot, before gesturing for her to follow him into the large building.

inside, the house was as chaotic as she’d remembered, but in a more, subtle, i’m an adult now, way. the shoe-shelf by the door was dishevelled to say the least – all of his most-used shoes were on there, just randomised and not in pairs at all. her shoes actually looked out of place, paired neatly and placed next to the strangely organised rack. there were a few pillows on the bottom of the staircase, with an untouched basket of clean washing next to the bannister.

pietra was flopped on the couch like it was her own, with max complaining about having no space and trying to find something to watch on the ridiculously large tv.

“so why’d you end up coming?” lando asked as he carried lily’s suitcase up the stairs. “not that i’m unhappy you’re here.”

“the book launch i was going to got cancelled.” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders. “i wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. they sent me an early release, didn’t bother to read it.”

“brutal.” the driver laughed, glancing back at her briefly.

“honestly?” lily continued. “i wasn’t in the mood to be charming to strangers.”

“and you are now?” lando queried as they entered the spare room next to his. 

“you’re not a stranger, and define charming.” she laughed.

“exactly what you’re doing now.” he replied coolly, his gaze trained on her for a little too long.

“lando, why do you have four tubs of peanut butter and no bread?” max yelled up the stairs. 

“they substituted my nutella and i forgot about bread.” lando groaned, turning to shout.

“still the same.” she chuckled.

“i’m evolving, slowly.”

“i noticed,” she teased. “you used to live on toast and protein bars.”

“bagels and protein shakes now, i’ve upgraded. very adult.”

“impressive.”

their eyes locked again, and for a second, the faint noise of max and pietra chatting downstairs faded to silence. it was the kind of moment lily had always brushed past before – innocent enough to ignore, but heavy enough to remember. she looked away first, thanking him for carrying her bags and letting her stay.

“you’re always welcome here, lala.”

• • • •

BY TEN O’CLOCK, max was flat out on the sofa after a debate about which premier league team had the best looking players, and pietra had rolled her eyes at her boyfriend so many times she was sure they were going to get stuck there. pietra retired to the other guest bedroom, and lando bidded the younger fewtrell goodnight, before she herself slipped away to her room, the soft click of the door punctuating the quietness of the house.

she wasn’t tired.

restless was a better way to describe her demeanour, the kind of restlessness that came from a long day of travel, too many not quite finished thoughts, and the underlying buzz of something unspoken. maybe it was lando’s nostalgic warmth, maybe it was the glance she caught between max and pietra when lando greeted her, as if they knew something lily didn’t.

she wouldn’t call what happened sleep, moreso closing her eyes for a couple hours and pretending too. so, at five o’clock in the morning, the pull of alertness won, dragging her out of bed and quietly downstairs to the kitchen. 

she padded down the stairs in her hoodie and shorts, expecting silence – but the kitchen light was on, but dimmed.

pietra sat at the counter, sipping from a ceramic mug, her body angled toward the sliding glass doors. outside, the early morning sky stretched wide and pale, clouds tinged with gold and papaya.

“oh, morning.” lily grumbled, not sure if she was pleasantly surprised by the lack of solitude or not. “how come you’re up?”

“not really that tired.” pietra shrugged, sighing softly as she sipped more of her coffee. “how are you and harry doing?”

“yeah, we’re okay, i guess.” lily said, sounding slightly unamused. “we’re just casual, you know?”

“you deserve something that isn’t casual.” she responded. “and look i know it might be a bit random to you, but have you considered lando?”

she laughed, quiet and a little shook. “lando? no way, he’s max’s best mate.”

“but he’s so sweet to you, not like he is with anyone else.”

“he’s nice to everyone.” she brushed it off, like she always did.

“you’re allowed to like someone who’s good for you, you know? no matter who they are.”

she was about to reply, consider pietra’s suggestion, when the pad of heavier footsteps interrupted her train of thought. “oh, good morning.” lando yawned.

“morning lan.” lily smiled, the nickname slipping off of her tongue. 

“morning lando.” pietra replied, glancing at the man. 

he was in the navy quadrant hoodie, looking too soft to be real, hood pulled up and curls sticking out everywhere. on his legs were a light grey pair of shorts, with some matching navy socks on his feet. he looked pliant, adorable even. 

the three of them sat in comfortable silence, lando knowingly sliding a hot cup of tea, with two sugars and a splash of milk, over to lily wordlessly, earning an appreciative smile from her. he hopped up onto the counter next to her, watching the sunrise with the two girls. lily watched a bird land on the balcony fence, wings sharp against the morning blush – admiring the way it could freely come and go whenever it wanted.

“you remembered,” lily smiled after swallowing a mouthful of the warm beverage. “my tea, that is.”

“i have a good memory.” the driver smiled, gently nudging her shoulder with his own. “two sugars with an obscenely small amount of milk.”

she laughed, quiet and real, glancing at him and noticing the faint traces of sleep on his face, in the forms of shallow lines and dishevelled eyelashes. his curls looked ridiculously soft, and when he ruffled them after taking his hood down, she briefly appreciated the beauty of his new hair. 

the way he leaned a little closer to her when she smiled didn’t go unnoticed, instead reluctantly swept away from her mind like the rest of the thoughts he brought with him.

• • • •

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, lily was sat on a deck chair on the patio, nearing the end of the first book in the trilogy. she was so deep into the plotline that she didn’t notice lando creeping up behind her until it was too late. 

when his hands squeezed her shoulders abruptly, she slammed the book shut and pulled on one of the pages near the end – tearing the paper almost clean out. she quietly noticed, he didn’t.

“lando!” she groaned, gently thumping him on the head with the paperback. 

“you ready for my cooking, miss fewtrell?” he asked, hands still on her shoulders, softly holding and rubbing his thumbs over them now. 

“call the fire brigade now.”

“hey! that was one time.” he laughed, resting his chin on top of her head and looking down at her book. “what’cha reading?”

“something you’re clearly too illiterate to read the title of.” she deadpanned, putting the book under her chair and going to get up.

he laughed, genuine and real, for the first time in a while. “so rude – i’ll make you sleep on the drive.”

“who would keep your ego in check then?” lily shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows with a teasing laugh.

a couple hours later, the group were full and max was pretty sure he had chronic indigestion from trying to see how many chips he could eat in thirty seconds. 

lando was out on the deck, making sure he hadn’t left anything out there, when he spotted the white and red book underneath a patio chair. en-route back to the house, the driver flicked through a few pages, his gaze immediately landing on the ripped page near the back – and he quickly realised that he was at fault for it. he didn’t say anything when he handed the book back to her, not yet.

• • • •

MONDAY MORNING came around too quickly, and lando left before the other three did, having to head out early to japan early for some media stuff. he’d hugged her, longer than he did the other two, even whispered a sweet ‘see you soon, lala’ in her ear as he’d pulled away.

she wasn’t actually sure when he’d done it, she’d been with him practically the entire weekend. but when she’d returned to the room she was staying in, with the intention of packing up her stuff – there was a neatly wrapped and strangely-shaped package on the foot of the double bed, clad in brown paper with a small white bow on the top left corner. 

‘sorry about the book. and sorry i didn’t scare max instead. had some help from p too - L’

lily stood there for a few minutes after unwrapping the entire holly jackson series, heart swelling, and the scent of the perfume she’d been wanting but couldn't get curling around her like a spritzed embrace.

outside the window, the wind brushed the trees.

and somewhere deep in her soul, something had begun to change.

════════════════════════

taglist: @verogonewild @tvdtw4ever @shawnscurlz @f1fantasys @hescrush @stonesylove @irisesinthegarden @unfuckwitabella @mayax2o07 @curlylando

i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

© norrisjpg 2025

[norrisjpg]

EVERTONE SHUT THE FUCK UP LANDO IS STREAMING RN

[norrisjpg]

do u only write for lando or will u also write for other drivers in the future???

i am planning to write for other drivers in the future, yes! although, it would be limited (i'm struggling with motivation atm so won't be straight away either) — i think i'd do; max, charles, carlos, george, and possibly yuki? let me know your thoughts!

[norrisjpg]

─── ★ prologue

════════════════════════

series: my kind of woman, LN⁴

content: max being overprotective, mentions of unhealthy relationships, coffee dates 

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: hi hi hi lovlies! i decided to keep the prologue short and sweet, just so you can get the idea of lily's dynamic with everyone (excluding lando, of course, that's for next time), and understand her personality and all. i really hope you enjoy reading this, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

════════════════════════

THE BRITISH SUMMER time wasn’t usually the warmest. typically, it was filled with chilly breezes and cloudy days pretending to be a heatwave for the country. the atmosphere was brimming with floating pollen and the promise of a clear sky that never seemed to be fully fulfilled. but the best time of the day was arguably six o’clock, morning or evening. 

lily was on the balcony of her london apartment, the quadrant hoodie that max had gifted her for christmas last year wrapped around her torso. her legs were tucked up to her chest, chin resting on her knees as she watched the sunrise flood in over the city. the book she’d been reading for the past half an hour or so was carefully placed on the minuscule wooden table next to the beanbag she resided on. stray hairs cascaded out of the low bun her hair was squeezed into, tickling the back of her neck every time she moved, but she didn’t mind, lily was too engrossed in the orange and red hues painted on the horizon. 

there was a second beanbag next to her. it was empty. the only other person who had ever sat on that seat was pietra, she was the only person who’d watch the sun rise or set with her, usually with an orange juice or glass of wine in her grasp. 

“good morning,” max mumbled as he leant against the frame of the sliding doors, rubbing his eyes as he spoke to his sister. “what are you doing up so early?”

“watching the sunrise, as usual.” she said quietly to her older brother, glancing at him briefly. “sorry if i woke you.”

“woke me? you’re as quiet as a mouse, el.” the older fewtrell laughed softly, running a hand through his dishevelled mullet.

“what are your plans for today?” she rolled her eyes, with a laugh.

“i’m heading out for lunch with some of the quadrant lot, if you want to join us?”

“sorry, i’ve got plans with harry today, max.” lily pursed her lips, a slightly guilty expression present on her features. “i’ll try and come next time though, yeah?”

“harry?” max furrowed his eyebrows, perking up a little at the mention of the man. “you’re still going out with him?”

“oh, give it a rest.” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she now looked at her older brother, his overprotective side clearly engaging at the mention of the boy from cambridge. “he’s lovely, you’re just too protective of me.”

“and i have a right to be.” he nodded, reaching forward and ruffling lily’s hair. “you’re still my baby sister, i don’t want you getting hurt by some knob who thinks he knows what’s best for you.”

“well it’s a good job that he’s not a knob then, isn’t it?” lily replied, slapping his hand away with no real force. “anyway, how long are you planning on staying for?”

“lando gets back on thursday, so i’ll probably head back up on friday.” the boy nodded. “you can come with me if you want?”

“i can’t, book launch event on saturday evening, sorry.”

“it’s fine, at least i won’t have to watch lando drool over you again.” max laughed, referring to the holiday they went on last year, where the mclaren driver was thirsting over the woman in secret, max only finding out after ed accidentally let it slip to his best friend. 

“get a life, max.” the girl rolled her eyes, grabbing her book and standing up. “and even if he was, which he wasn’t, you wouldn’t let the poor lad near me anyway.”

“because i know lando, and that boy is not ready to settle down, and i don’t want him breaking your heart.” max pursed his lips, sighing softly. 

“i can handle myself, you know? i’m not a kid anymore, max.”

“yeah, and i’m going to be back racing next month.”

• • • •

AT AROUND lunch time, the sun was blaring down in london, casting picturesque shadows on the pavement as she walked through the city streets. harry and lily had arranged to meet at this adorable cafe, cozy and a relief from the humidity of the outdoor atmosphere. and he was there, waiting in a little booth tucked away in the corner of the establishment, aimlessly scrolling through his socials as he waited for lily to arrive.

“hi,” she smiled softly, sliding into the seats opposite him, placing her bag down next to her.

“ah, hey lils.” harry smiled, putting his phone down as she sat down in front of him. “how are you?”

“yeah, all good, thankyou.” she nodded politely, “and you?”

“i’m good, mhm.” he hummed, nodding his head as the waiter approached their table, placing the coffee he had ordered a few minutes ago down in front of him. “drink?”

“oh, yes please.” lily nodded. “could i just get a white coffee please?”

the waiter nodded, smiling before turning on her heel and heading off toward the till. harry’s eyes followed her, before darting back to lily. 

conversations between the two were pleasant, lily planning out responses in her head, overthinking a couple moments but overall it was nice. 

harry attended the university of london, studying medical science to become a doctor. the pair had met a few months ago, after lily had practically thrown her to-go cup of coffee all over him, down the light beige slacks he was wearing, and staining the crisp, white shirt on his torso. he’d insisted on buying her another coffee, and said that a date with her would make up for it. the two of them had been out together six times since then, but something just wasn’t quite right.

lily hadn’t ever really had a proper boyfriend. yes, she’d had the fling here and there, lost her virginity to a friend from secondary school, made out with one or two guys over the course of a few years - but never anything serious. harry did make her feel a little insecure - it wasn’t like he was a manwhore, but the boy was definitely experienced and a tiny bit too keen for her liking. the way his hand would linger on her thigh, the way he kissed her was a little too deeply for her liking, the way his palm somehow found her ass every time they hugged - it was all just a little too much for her.

not to mention, when the two of them did kiss, he made her feel a little insecure about her inexperience. was this what relationships were supposed to be like? she wasn’t sure, but her love life had been missing-in-action for so long, lily was going to take whatever she could get.

meanwhile, max fewtrell had just returned to his sister’s apartment, and was putting his shoes back into the white rack on the floor, when his phone starting buzzing in his pocket.

“‘sup bob?” the man said after swiping to answer the call from his best friend.

“alright, max?” lando replied. “wanna come to miami in a few weeks? bring p if you want, mate, all the other girlfriends are here.”

“oh, sweet, we’ll be there, thanks mate.” max nodded. “i’ll check with her, but yeah, should be fine.”

“cool, that was all, gotta go, see you on friday, yeah?” the british driver responded, the sound of someone calling his name in the background of the call.

“yeah, see you friday, bob.”

════════════════════════

taglist: @verogonewild @tvdtw4ever @shawnscurlz @f1fantasys

i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

© norrisjpg 2025

[norrisjpg]

─── ★ characters & mood boards

LILIANA FEWTRELL ☆ eliza browne ─── twenty-three, cancer, june baby! ── lifestyle vlogger and book enthusiast ─── @/lilyfewtrell, @/lala404

LANDO NORRIS ☆ lando norris ─── twenty-five, scorpio, november baby! ── mclaren formula 1 driver and quadrant owner ─── @/lando, @/bob404

MAX FEWTRELL ☆ max fewtrell ─── twenty-five, leo, july baby! ── quadrant managing partner and streamer ─── @/maxfewtrell, @/maxipad2907

PIETRA PILAO ☆ pietra pilao ─── twenty-three, cancer, june baby! ── actress and model, the best friend in the world ─── @/pietra.pilao, @/pp3024

HARRY CAMBRIDGE ☆ nicolas alexander chavez ─── twenty-three, aquarius, january baby! ── medical student and the occasional fling ─── @/harry_cambridge99

LOLA MATTHEWS ☆ kaci jay ─── twenty-one, capricorn, december baby! ── aspiring actress and the other woman ─── @/lolamatthews.xo

★

taglist ... @verogonewild @tvdtw4ever @shawnscurlz @f1fantasys

[norrisjpg]

MY KIND OF WOMAN

════════════════════════

synopsis: lily fewtrell wasn’t exactly well-known, quiet and tucked away into the soft corners of the world. her head was stuck in romance novels, gaze trained on the sunsets, her personality was gentle and reserved at the edges, sharpening with quick wit and blunt sarcasm if you managed to chip away at her carefully constructed walls. lando norris was the poster boy of formula 1, pretty and the victim of the fans’ hateful frustrations. below the surface, he was sweet and pliant, on the exterior he was open-minded and ridiculously sarcastic. on paper, they were complete opposites, north and south, spring and autumn. but if you really looked, you might find something different. the world was evil, but love was worse.

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

════════════════════════

─── ★ characters & mood boards ─── ★ prologue 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ── ☆ tea talks & torn paper ── ☆ champagne & complications ── ☆ golf buggies & club cocktails ── ☆ intimate words & discarded plans ── ☆ austrian afterglow & silverstone snaps 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ── ☆ dismissed affection & heartfelt smiles ── ☆ dutch waffles & championship chances ── ☆ close calls & singapore nights ── ☆ grilled debates & unsent emails ── ☆ cowboy hats & pretty boys 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ── ☆ stolen glances & secret kisses ── ☆ vanilla candles & open doors ── ☆ sushi rolls & steak tartare ── ☆ podium smiles & bruised knees ── ☆ alternate endings & misunderstood touches

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ── ☆ soft edges & sharp wits ── ☆ marina memories & overdue confessions ── ☆ snow snaps & burnt bridges ── ☆ rainy days & cosy mornings ── ☆ family gatherings & financial losses

─── ★ epilogue ─── ★ author's notes

[norrisjpg]

ew, what’s wrong with you people? you don’t know these guys. lando doesn’t need ‘protecting’ he’s an adult and he can handle his own emotions. obviously you guys can’t. hating on oscar for simply doing his job is crazy

okay, i feel as if my point has been completely misunderstood, and taken as oscar hate. i'm not hating on oscar, i am simply expressing my opinion on a driver, who i dislike - but i am not hating on him. my take on this whole situation is that lando is my favourite driver, always has been and always will be, nothing is going to change that. i didn't always used to dislike oscar, i didn't up until monza last year, where he pulled that move on lando into the chicane, and the team did nothing about it.

yes, and i completely understand that oscar is doing his job and that lando doesn't need protecting, because correctly, he is an adult and can handle his own emotions in whatever way he sees fit.

but my dislike for oscar doesn't stem from him as a driver, it comes from the bias that mclaren so clearly has, in oscar's favour - which then in turn means that i don't like him, because that's how my brain works! i believe that's because i'm not a fan of seeing one driver in a team doing super well and winning consistently, and the team making little-to-no effort to improve or upgrade the car in favour of the driver who seems to be struggling with it.

and no, i don't think lando needs protecting or shielding from it, but mclaren's bias has lead to the ridiculous amounts of hate that both drivers are getting - though arguably, lando is receiving more hate than oscar is, which has always been the case.

so no, i'm not 'hating on oscar' - i'm hating on the team that haven't got a fucking clue what they're doing.

─── thankyou, aurora.

[norrisjpg]

honestly would go to war to see this man happy in a team that actually gives a fuck about him.

how do i buy lando out of his mclaren contract? because they don't deserve him there

[norrisjpg]

intro (end of the world)

════════════════════════

summary: in which, the weekend didn't exactly go the way he wanted it to, but he'd be okay, because she was there.

content: self-doubt, insecurities, fluff, lando is low-key clingy, lily being emotional support animals, soft and sweet lando

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: actually obsessed with this song, especially the extended version!! i'm really enjoying writing this series at the moment, it's my coping mechanism for my feelings post-race, and it's how i like to vent!! also, couldn't find any good pictures of the chinese grand prix track, so you get that pretty green one in the middle instead. also, i'm writing this post-miami and absolutely outraged, so... if the real events of the grand prix in china are inaccurate - sorry not sorry. hope you enjoy this one, i think it's cute as fuck!!

════════════════════════

THE MCLAREN GARAGE thrummed with a new found excitement, something different to australia, something hopeful but tinged with the pressure of delivering after lando's melbourne masterclass.

but lando, he wasn't as happy as he would have been if he was on pole position, but overall he had been happy for the team.

that was until it was clear lando was faster, and he'd been told to hang back, it was oscar's win, according to the team. well no, it wasn't, was it? lando was faster, by at least two tenths, but no, the team told him to hold position and to respect their decision.

so he was quiet in the interviews, putting on a façade in the cooldown room, and pining to be let out of those team briefings he was slowly growing to hate. yes, he was happy for oscar and his win, but the team had, once again, made it feel like a chore to let his teammate win. surely they had to back the british driver this year? he'd driven so, so much better in australia, proving he was the more experienced pilot and most likely candidate for the twenty-five world drivers' championship, hadn't he?

lily was in the hospitality, chatting away with hattie piastri, when her phone silently rang in her pocket, and it wasn't until a minute or so later that she happened to use the device to look at the time — 'you have one voicemail from lan.'

voicemail: — [0.27] "hey pretty, i'm uh [pause] i'm in my driver room, not sure where you are, i would have come to find you but [deep breath] didn't wanna deal with media 'n' that shit. uh [pause] could you come 'n' see me? god this is so pathetic [chuckles] just feel like i need my girl right now, yeah? hopefully see you in a bit, love you."

"who's that?" hattie asked, tilting her head as lily's expression softened upon hearing the voice on the message.

"lan," she mumbled, sliding her phone into her handbag. "i've got to go, hattie, i'll see you in..."

"oh, miami, see you in miami, lily."

"cool, see you then, bye hattie!" the girl called out as she hurried down the steps and toward the mclaren motorhome.

she walked with purpose, bag clutched in her hand, mind wondering what state lando was in. she knew he got in his head after races like these, even though he'd done so well. the team just made him doubt himself in the most subtle, manipulative way possible - had done since canada last year.

"lan—"

"—come in."

lando had already changed from the podium, the champagne dripping from his body had felt like guilt and unspoken frustrations, compared to the usual glory and victorious feeling that went hand-in-hand with the sweet liquid.

he was in his drew hoodie, paired with the light blue jeans and multicoloured dunk sneakers he'd worn to the paddock in the morning.

"am i doing something wrong?" he sounded snappy, snappier than usual. "because it sure as fuckin' hell seems like i am."

"you're not doing anything wrong, lan." lily shook her head, shutting the door behind her and plopping down on the couch next to him.

"i could have caught him so easily, but no!" lando slapped his thighs in annoyance, shaking his head. "you just stay back there, let your teammate win! god, why is always me that gets fucked over? first hungary, then monza, and almost australia — they were just gonna let him overtake me and probably take both of us out—"

"—lando." lily spoke up, voice soft and pliant. "take a breath, it's one race, it's only the second race of the season. you're going to get the drivers' this year, and you can't expect oscar not to put up a fight about it."

"i hate you sometimes, you know?" he sighed, tension easing from his shoulders. "you always know what to say, you're like... better than jon."

"i won't tell him you said that." the girl laughed softly, resting her head on his shoulder. "but i'm serious, oscar has his priorities, you have your own, okay? he wants a championship, so do you — but who's been racing for the team since twenty-nineteen?"

"yes, but—"

"—who's been racing for the team since twenty-nineteen, lando?"

"me," he mumbled. "but that doesn't mean they'll support me and not oscar, again."

"well, they'll have me to deal with if that's the case, and we know how scared thing one and two are of me." she smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, a laugh escaping his lips as he was reminded of their nicknames for zak and andrea.

"you can say that again."

• • • •

THE PLANE JOURNEY back to woking was quiet. the team was clearly exhausted, and lando was flat out asleep, head in his best friend's lap with his arms around her tummy.

"how was he earlier?" jon asked quietly as he sat down in the seat opposite the pair.

"annoyed, understandably." lily nodded, pursing her lips. "he was frustrated with the whole 'hold position' thing, and he got in his head about it."

"and you worked your usual magic, i assume?" the man raised his eyebrows, a gentle laugh leaving his lips as lando tightened his grip around the model.

"i wouldn't call it magic, just logical thinking." she said matter-of-factly, in the most modest way possible.

but jon was right, lily was magic.

lando was in a bad mood all day? probably because he hadn't seen her, and as soon as his eyes fell on her, his mood drastically increased. lando was snappy during interviews? probably because he was yet to debrief with his saving grace, and after that he'd be a lot more optimistic. lando had driven a 'bad' race? give her maybe ten minutes and you would have thought he'd won the grand prix.

a few hours later, the pair found themselves in bed together, wholesome and wrapped up in each other's embrace — pretty much how every grand prix weekend ended, now that lando had sworn of drinking in aid of his championship campaign.

"lily?" he asked softly, lifting his head from her chest.

"mhm?" the girl hummed in response, searching his expression for a hint of what he wanted from her.

"nothing, wanted to look at you, that was all."

"such a sap, you know that?" lily giggled softly, ignoring the pink hue that spread across her cheeks. "what would the world think if they knew championship leader lando norris was just a big baby?"

"shut up, you know i'm only like this with you." he smiled sheepishly. "and if you tell anyone, i will get you deported back to italy."

"what the fuck?" the girl laughed loudly, tilting her head back at the random threat as she chuckled. "i'm legal!"

"yeah, yeah." he shook his head, smiling at her laughter. "or i'll get you banned from my family dinners."

"oh please, they'd disown you before that happened."

lando simply looked at her, gazing intently at the pretty features on her face. she was so enticing — her lips looked so kissable, he could drown in the way she looked at him (and he quite often did, as he was now), the way she blinked every time she cursed — like her body was rejecting the word — the way she'd always cover her mouth when she laughed around other people, but never him.

oh god, he was so fucked.

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i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

© norrisjpg 2025

[norrisjpg]

i was peer pressured into making this btw. @blairdii

[norrisjpg]

are you actually “antioscar” or whatever the hell is going on because that might just make me cry

okay so i wouldn’t go as far as ‘anti-oscar’ — he seems like a lovely guy off-track, and is very unproblematic from what i can tell (also i literally love his girlfriend).

but, after monza 2024 and australia 2025, i literally cannot bring myself to support someone who’s so willing to fuck up his teammate’s race and make subtle digs at him afterward. (but well, australia didn’t end up going very well anyway!)

however, i am not completely blaming oscar whatsoever, mclaren are mostly to blame for my dislike for him. the team clearly prioritise him over lando, and god forbid their precious little piastri look bad, and let alone lose to lando of all drivers.

that team would be nowhere without lando and his loyalty to them, but that’s a conversation they’re not ready to have.

mclaren will burn to the ground before they admit lando is a better driver than oscar.

[norrisjpg]

FINALLY someone is speaking my language!!

God I’m sick as fuck of Oscar Piastri. My god . Get over yourself. You aren’t gods gift to F1. Please shut the fuck up.

And to everyone saying shit about Lando getting the safety car. McLaren was literally going to screw him with that pit stop. I don’t want to hear shit. He was legit catching Oscar and McLaren couldn’t stand the thought of their precious baby looking bad especially to Lando no lord heavens we can’t have that so let’s screw with him and give him a shitty pit well guess what McLaren fuck you. Safety car karma will get you everytime!

The look of absolute disdain on OPs face while he was being interviewed after the sprint was hilarious like stop crying bro. I’m sick of you thinking you just get everything handed to you. Grow up and quit making everyone think you’re this chill fun guy who is so laid back, cuz your not you’re a whiny bitch baby who throws a tantrum every single time you don’t get your way and it’s getting old.

I hope Lando takes this vibe into quali and into the race and let’s go get another freaking win baby!! 🩷🩷

P.s can Oscar piastri please stop running people off the fucking track and not getting a penalty. Okay thanks. I hope Kimi beats his ass in the garage.

[norrisjpg]

i don’t reblog shit usually, BUT SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE HOES IN THE BACK 🗣️🗣️🗣️

imagine getting four wins, 13 podiums, 374 points, ending the season p2 in the wdc standings and single-handedly winning mclaren the wcc in the last race of the season and yet your bosses decide that next season’s car should be tailored to the guy who ended over 80 points behind you in the standings, won twice and still has to use your setups cause he’s useless like that.