"lando has a daughter?" in which lando's daughter convinces her parents to get back together lando norris is a soon to be 30 year old mclaren formula 1 driver & maeve clarke is a 29 year old architect based in london what could the two have in common you may ask? niamh nora, a 12 year old daughter to the never married divorced -not so-couple [slowburn] "peridot" a symbol of loyalty and faithfulness 3k-6k words per chapter* a rather fun story, an emotional rollercoaster if you will do give it a chance <3 special song recs: (list updates every update) 15/05 london by mokita 16/05 guilty as sin by taylor swift 21/05 remember by zohara and gryffin 03/06 in betweenin by austin 04/06 tomorrow tonight loote 19/06 maps by maroon5 30/06 chemical by post malone 01/08 before you leave me by alex waren 18/09 numb by arc north (so sorry for skipping a few updates, if you're reading this comment a white heart on your favourite chapter) *probable mentions of mature themes (check mature rating on/off) - suggestive content, strong language in a few chapters** *THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION *lower case intended *happy ending :) *lowercase intended xxAddy

They're teammates, ex-somethings, and way too good at pretending it never happened. Fast cars, hot tempers, and a whole lot of unresolved tension. This is Burnout. And they're both already running on fumes. Or short: Another landoscar story

✮✮✮✮✮ Childhood best friends. Brothers in everything but blood. Until the streets taught them speed matters more than loyalty. One race. One crash. One version of the truth they will never agree on. Because the crash didn't just leave scars on the road. It left behind words neither of them were supposed to ever say. Now their names don't belong in the same sentence unless it's a warning. But the city brings them back into the same lanes, same lights, same feelings they both swore they buried that night. And the worst part isn't the rivalry. It's that every time they line up at the start... it still feels like coming home.

❝ Lando attaches the blushy, pouty photo and sends it, then locks his phone and drops it onto the carpet beside him, staring up at the ceiling. There's a pause, stretching suspiciously long. A faint click echoes through the call. Mute. Then unmute again. "Sorry," OP says when he comes back, his voice rougher now. "Thought someone was at the door."❞ Or: Lando loses an F1 championship and signs up for a charity Minecraft speedrunning tournament to cope with his existential crisis. Turns out his coach, faceless speedrunning champion OP81, might be a bit of a fanboy.

"They met in paradise. They fell apart at 300 kph" IN WHICH His life was measured in tenths of a second. She was a walking contradiction who laughed too loud and moved too fast to ever be caught. Andrea was pure chaos, and he couldn't look away. OR IN WHICH She went to Italy to escape, not to meet an even bigger problem. Kimi was all perfect lines and control, but he saw her when her brain ran at 300 kph. He was a pit stop waiting to happen "The hardest race is the one you can't see."

She shows up to interview his cousin for a small racing podcast - except, oops, she's been talking to the wrong Antonelli the entire time. Andrea tries to tell her. She doesn't let him get a word in. Instead of correcting her, he just... goes with it, quietly amused. By the time she realizes the truth, she's mortified - and he's already invited her to the next f1 event. "To make it up to me," he says with a soft smile. She's not sure if it's a punishment or a date.

Lando Norris is the campus celebrity-streamer, showman, always surrounded by laughter and admirers. Yet, no matter how many fans orbit him, his gaze fixes on one boy. He sneaks into classes he doesn't belong in, always with chocolate milk just for excuses, and blurts it out without shame. "I want you." Oscar Piastri isn't like the others. He's quiet, focused, an archer on scholarship who builds his life out of discipline. Where Lando is loud, Oscar is steady. Where Lando craves attention, Oscar avoids it. And every time Lando appears at his side, Oscar pushes him back. "What do you want from me this time?" Oscar demands, arms crossed. But things shift when Lando hits a breaking point-his manuscript thrown away, his heart cracked open in front of George and Max. Rumors flood the internet after a livestream slip, whispers of "Landoscar" spreading faster than either can stop. Oscar watches from the shadows, jealousy gnawing at him when Paul or even Kimi hover too close. He does things he swore he wouldn't. Saves the manuscript, copies notes for Charles just to get Lando's address. "I want-Lando's home address." Charles blinked in disbelief. "No. Nope. Not you. You'd never pull a stunt like this. You. Hate. Lando." But hate was never the truth. Jealousy was. Fear was. And when Oscar showed up at Lando's apartment, the walls finally broke. "O-Oscar...?" Lando whispered, clinging to the doorframe. And in the quiet of that moment, he admits the words he's hidden for too long. Oscar confesses, his voice trembling. Oscar wants Lando to choose him. Still. Always. And then-raw, unfiltered, aching- "I've lost. I've fallen for you. Again and again. I can't fight it anymore." Reality was messy, though. Promises whispered with hooked pinkies, nights tangled on the sofa in pajamas. "You're sure, none of this is from some stupid dare?"

Lando Norris isn't dying. That's what he keeps telling himself. He's just-tired. Too tired. The kind of tired that makes your hands tremble when you paint, that makes your world fade to white under fluorescent light. When he collapses in the middle of the street, it should've just been another headline: Campus art boy passes out, again. But that day, someone caught him-literally. A photography major with shaking hands and a camera still strapped to his neck. Oscar Piastri didn't mean to care. But he did. They meet again, the sunlight from the tall panes framed him in soft gold-Lando slumped over a desk, heartbeat uneven, breath too shallow. Oscar's voice cuts through the silence. "Sleep well." And somehow, Lando listens. He shouldn't feel anything. Not this warmth blooming in his chest. Not this quiet safety whenever Oscar looks at him like he's not fragile. "Why do you keep helping me?" Lando asks one day, voice cracking between guilt and hope. Oscar shrugs, eyes soft. "Because you keep falling." Then there's George-best friend, chaos incarnate-who would fight the whole hospital if he could. Feeling Max's quiet stare on him, George yanks Lando up to use him as a shield. "What?! You wanna fight, huh?!" His little fists tremble inside his cardigan sleeves. Max doesn't even blink. "Try me," the doctor deadpans, flipping a chart. Between sleepless nights, half-drunk cups of coffee, and the hum of a heart that beats too fast for its own good, Lando begins to draw again. And maybe-just maybe-he's learning how to live again, too. Because this time, when Oscar offers his hand, Lando doesn't pull away. a slow heartbeat turning into melody. a story about falling, again and again, and choosing to stay.

Oscar Piastri was never supposed to matter. Quiet. Precise. Sharp. He moved through the world like a straight line-disciplined, steady, predictable. He didn't chase anyone. He didn't flirt. He didn't smile unless necessary. And yet, he kept finding Lando. A chocolate bar left on a desk. A sticky note in looping handwriting. A soft voice beside Lando's ear. "This is for you. Eat, please." Lando hated it. Hated the way Oscar seemed to anticipate his next move. Hated the hand that appeared just to shield him from bumping into corners. Hated the look in Oscar's eyes-slow, deliberate, almost gentle. One afternoon, under a sunlit tree, Oscar said, "Your star hairclip suits you. You look cute today." No one had ever watched Lando that closely. No one had seen past the showmanship, past the bravado. He pulled away. Snapped. Ran. Heart pounding, throat tight. And Oscar? He stayed. Patient. Quiet. Collecting the pieces of Lando's chaos like it was natural. The strangest thing, when others got too close to Oscar, Lando stiffened. His tone sharpened. "Why him? He doesn't even look at you properly." Oscar's voice was soft, patient. "Lando, why do you care?" "I... I don't. Just forget it," Lando muttered, looking away. He didn't care. But Oscar kept choosing him. In small ways, unnoticed ways, the kind that made Lando's chest tighten. If Oscar was pretending, Lando's heart might not survive. But if he wasn't, then maybe Lando was already falling. Hard. And he wasn't sure he wanted to stop.

Lando Norris after experiencing severe bullying since he was a child, was completely closed off and introverted in his rookie year. While Carlos and Zak Brown tried to get him to open up, it was impossible. The quiet, practically small boy struggled, and while Lando has worked through some traumas and made friends, he was still stuck in his head, suffering silently, his mental health debilitating. Carlos Sainz is reeling from a horrific encounter with a fan at a bar, where she took advantage of his drunken state despite him not giving consent. He's a natural care taker, always worrying and help out others over himself. The Ferrari driver is helplessly in love with his best friend and ex-teammate, but can't do anything about it. But maybe he has a chance, especially when after the Miami Grand Prix, he finally starts to see that maybe Lando might like him back. A story where two people who can't find love find it with each other. This story runs parallel to my other story, Finding Home 🤍