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carlossainzlusciouslocks · 2 months ago

Text

It’s you.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You yell at a stranger at a party. That stranger happens to be Formula One driver, Lando Norris.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Possible angst (not really though!), swearing

Note: No use of Y/N or any pronouns for the reader.

This was based on the poll I posted a few days ago!

This fic was not supposed to be this long. I got a bit carried away when writing but I hope you all enjoy reading it! As always, I would appreciate any comments, criticisms or suggestions for new fics! And I apologise for any mistakes in the fic.

Lando Norris. The man that was currently all over the media.

Lando Norris. The man who, at 25 years old, has announced that he is retiring from Formula One after the 2025 season.

According to the ever reliable source of Sky F1’s David Croft (aka Crofty) Lando was leaving F1 due to the mass amount of hate he was receiving from fans as well as the overwhelming amount of harassment he was also receiving from the media.

Now, you didn’t actually know Lando Norris but it felt like you did with how much your coworker, Julian, talked about him.

"Ahh you just don’t understand! He is amazing. He is definitely a future world champion. I don’t understand why he would give it all up!" Julian would say.

Thanks to Julian you know Lando’s birthday, when his F1 debut was and the fact that he was in a drivers championship battle against Max Verstappen in the 2024 F1 season.

Which is why when the marketing firm you worked for was asked by Formula One driver Charles Leclerc to help with the launch of his new ice cream brand, LEC, Julian jumped at the opportunity to work with said driver, in the hopes of getting in contact with Lando. Julian was convinced that if he met Lando, he could convince him not to leave Formula One. You weren’t so sure.

"No! No! Absolutely not! Julian I’m not going. Please don’t make me." You said, turning your back to Julian in hopes of reinforcing your point.

"Oh come on! Lando Norris might be there! Lando mother fucking Norris. Please please please!" Julian pleaded, clasping his hands together in a prayer like motion.

"For the last time, I am NOT helping you with this launch event. I have so many things to do. I’ve got clients that are coming in for a meeting on Monday and I have no idea what I’m going to pitch to them." you say, a sense of finality in your voice.

"It’s Friday! Loosen up! You’ve got the whole weekend to think of something. Come on! We have literally been invited to a Formula One driver’s brand launch event. Well, we weren’t ‘invited’ invited. We will be working but still!" Julian was practically begging you to help him at the launch event.

Just as you were about to decline once again, your boss, Sylvie’s voice rang out. "You will be helping Julian with the event. I sent you an email last week informing you of this". She gave you a very pointed look as she spoke, clearly leaving no room for discussion.

A full 26 hours later, the launch event was in full swing. Julian had booked out a club in Monaco for the launch. There was an ice cream bar full of Charles’ own ice cream brand. There was also a table full of toppings that people could put onto the ice cream, and, arguably the most important thing, there was also an open bar. The open bar meant that the launch, as the night progressed, turned into a full on party. People drunk on the dance floor and puking in the bathrooms.

As soon as you arrived you had immediately been accosted by some of your other colleagues. They dragged you around the entire party making you put out all of the metaphorical fires that they didn’t know how to deal with. After saving multiple celebrities from PR nightmare after PR nightmare, you finally managed to escape the clutches of your coworkers. You set out to find Julian, who personally introduced to Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Alexandra, as well as a handful of other people who’s names you didn’t care to remember.

An hour, and about a million alcoholic drinks later, you started to get sick of listening to Julian point out famous celebrities and decided that you needed some air. Desperately.

You quickly went in search of a balcony or a window, just something that would separate you and Julian freaking out over the famous people you were surrounded by. This was not as easy task due to how much champagne you had consumed throughout the evening in an attempt to make Julian’s fangirling a bit more bearable. Eventually, you stumbled across a balcony. One that overlooked over the Monaco skyline. You stumbled out onto the balcony but instead of the peaceful, and much welcomed, alone time you were expecting to get, you saw another person stood there. Another person who had a somewhat recognisable physique. But the alcohol you had consumed left you completely puzzled as to why you recognised this person. It’s not like you knew anyone famous enough to be invited to this brand-launch-turned-party.

"Oh sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was out here" You rushed to say, averting your eyes. You turned to leave but the stranger’s voice stops you from doing so.

"You can stay. I mean, if you want." The man rushed to say. He turned his head slightly in your direction. Only enough for you to see the outline of his side profile against the glorious night sky.

"Thank you" you said in an almost whisper. You made your way over to the railing of the balcony and leaned your forearms onto it, looking out over the city.

After a few minutes of quiet, you feel the skin on your face start to tingle. You turn your head slightly and find the man’s eyes glued to your face. You turn your head more towards the man, hoping you would be able to see his face more clearly and figure out who he was.

Oh.

It was him.

Lando Norris.

He catches your eye and you quickly turn your head back so you were looking out at the city once again, knowing he had just caught you staring at him. You hear a deep chuckle from the man beside you. You feel him move closer to you. Slightly.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

He was flirting. He hadn’t even seen your face properly and he was flirting. Badly. But still, flirting nonetheless. You weren’t going to lie, it did boost your ego just a little to know that a Formula One driver was willing to flirt with you. But it did make you think that these F1 drivers will flirt with anything that looked at them for long enough.

“Wow! Smooth.” You said sarcastically. Cautiously.

“Shut up.” He joked.

“I just needed some air.” You answered.

He hummed softly.

“The party is good. Busy. The music is good too. I would have been a much better DJ though” You both laughed. The two of you spent the next 5, or so, minutes talking. Neither of you failing to make the other laugh. Both of you inching closer and closer together the more you spoke.

You thought back to what Julian had said to you about Lando. ‘He is definitely a future world champion. I don’t understand why he would give it all up!’ The alcohol in your system had clouded your judgement. You felt as though you had to ask.

"Can I ask you a question?" You blurted out just as he was about to speak again. He was probably about to make some flirty, jokey comment about how you should go home with him.

"Oh. Of course. Yeah. Sure" he said, taking a step away from you, picking up on the change in tone of your voice. He was clearly expecting you to disappoint him by asking for a photo or signature or something he didn’t have the energy to give. Both of your faces turned to, once again, look over the Monegasque skyline.

You clear your throat. "What do you want?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, obviously taken aback by your question.

"You heard me. What do you want?" You repeated.

"Oh… Ermmm. I- ermmm" He said. Unable to form a clear sentence, a clear train of thought.

"Do you want people to take pity on you, beg you to stay? Do you want people to feel bad for how they treated you, how the media treated you, how ‘fans’ treated you? Because they won’t. You have to be naive to think that they will."

His brows furrowed at this.

"Do you want to throw away an entire career just because the media has turned people against you? A career that you have worked so had to achieve. A career that your family worked so hard to help you get and excel in." You turned your whole body to face him now. He didn’t dare look at you.

"Are you just going to give up because it’s no longer fun? Because you are no longer a ‘fan favourite’? Because people, the media, the fans, everyone is ‘out to get you’? Is that what you are going to do with the rest of your life, give up when things get hard, when people turn against you?" Your voice was starting to get louder and louder the more you spoke. "What about the fans that love you? What about all of the people that you have inspired and are inspiring? What about the fans whose lives you have saved?" You couldn’t help yourself, you tried to stop yourself from saying all of these things but you just couldn’t. You wouldn’t dream of saying any of this sober. But right now you were anything but sober. Tonight, right now, was the only time you would ever see him and you felt like you should say something. Him leaving Formula One felt, to you, to everyone, like a rash decision, one that he was bound to regret once the season was over.

"You are acting like a Zayn Malik when you need to be acting like a Nico Rosberg." His eyebrows raised so high that it was almost comical. He was snapped him out of the shocked and, quite frankly, offended trance that he seemed to be in for the entirety of your speech.

"What? What does that even mean?" His voice going up an octave.

"What-I- what do you think it means?! It means that you are just leaving when you should be fighting to prove the people who are doubting you, the people who are sending you hate, wrong. And you do that by winning a world championship, which I know you are capable of winning. And if you still want to leave after that then you leave on a high. You leave on a win." You say, as though it was obvious.

"First of all, we don’t know each other, I quite literally don’t even know who you are, w- ah- are you an influencer or some shit? God I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight. " He said the last part under his breath.

"Look, I don’t know what makes you think you can go on a whole rant about my decision to leave F1. It is my decision, not yours, not anyone else’s, mine and mine alone so I think you just need to BACK OFF! I don’t know what makes you think you have the right to lecture me or make me feel bad about my choices. Secondly, that metaphor was completely lost on me and quite frankly kinda outdated. You saying that Zayn "just left" is undermining what he actually when through and what actually happened. That’s not even the point!" He shook his head.

"The point is, you need to mind your own and get the fuck out of other peoples business" With that he turned on his heel and disappeared back into the party.

The next few weeks were hectic for you at work. Once people were made aware of the success of Charles’ brand launch, more and more people, who had seen how well the brand launch went, had been wanting to get your companies help with their branding.

It all came to ahead when Julian came to your desk one morning and shoved his phone into your face. You took the phone from his hands and read the article he had pulled up.

‘Lando Norris not leaving Formula One next year’ the headline read.

"Can you believe it?! This is amazing! He has apparently made a statement on his Instagram saying that he has decided to stay in Formula One! I’m actually so happy! What do you think caused him to change his mind?"

"I don’t know" you said with a nervous laugh. It was all coming back to you now. Everything from that night at the party.

‘Do you want people to feel bad for how they treated you, how the media treated you, how ‘fans’ treated you? Because they won’t. You have to be naive to think that they will.’

You cringed as you remembered what you had said. In your defence you were incredibly drunk, don’t tell Julian or Sylvie. But that doesn’t still excuse what you did. You felt terrible for what you said to him, you really didn’t mean to say it. You really didn’t want to say it.

For the rest of the day you replayed your interaction with Lando over and over again in your head. Every time you thought of it, you felt guiltier and guiltier.

It only made you feel worse when a few days later a familiar face walked through the doors of your place of work.

"Bonjour. Welcome to MARKETING COMPANY NAME. Have you got an appointment?" You heard Gen, the receptionist, say.

You didn’t think much of this interaction. Clients come and go from the office all of the time.

"You do. That is amazing. What is your name?" You heard Gen ask.

"Lando Norris."

You froze.

No.

Please. No. This could not be happening.

"I’m actually here to see-"

You didn’t hear what name he said. You didn’t need to. You knew he was there for you. You kept facing your computer. You kept your back turned away from where he was stood. You prayed that he didn’t see you.

He did.

Of course he did.

He had spotted you as soon as he walked into the office.

You felt him tap your shoulder. Reluctantly, you turned around. He looked good. He looked different to how he looked at the party. He looked determined. Lighter. You, on the other hand, looked sheepish, embarrassed.

"Hello. Can I help you?" You said with as much confidence as you could muster.

"It’s you."

Shit.

"Erm- I- erm- I don’t know what you mean" your false confidence faltering.

"From the party. Charles Leclerc’s party."

Oh no. He was here to confront you.

You couldn’t have stood up from your chair fast enough.

"Oh god. I’m so sorry about that. Seriously, I was so drunk and I know that’s not a good enough reason but I-" He hugged you. You didn’t know what to do. Your hands hovered over his back. You were about to hug him back when you heard

"OH MY GOD. IS THAT LANDO NORRIS?!" Julian. Of course it was Julian.

Lando pulled away quicker than you thought was humanly possible.

"Could I talk to you. Somewhere more private?" Lando whispered. Your faces were still incredibly close to each other from the hug, noses almost touching.

"Yeah. Of course." You grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards your bosses office. She was in a meeting so you just let yourself in.

"I’m-"

"I just-" you both started speaking at the same time.

"No you go first" You said, ushering your hands forward.

"Okay. I just wanted to say thank you for yelling at me. You were right. I was letting what other people thought of me and what they said about me, cloud my judgement. I don’t know if you have seen it but I decided to stay in Formula One and you are the reason why I changed my mind. You really knocked some sense into me I guess" Lando looked bashfully at his feet.

"Oh… I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t really know what to say. Erm. Your welcome. I think?" Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Wait how did you even find me?"

"Oh that. I asked Charles who planned the party and thought if I showed up at the marketing company he said was involved, I might see you. And I was right"

"Oh. I really don’t know what to make of that. This is all so weird. I thought you were here to yell at me." You said shaking your head in disbelief.

"Me? Yell at you? Never. There was another reason why I wanted to come here in person though." Lando said, a faint blush on his face.

"Oh" you enquired.

"Yeah. I was also wondering if I could get your phone number?"

"My phone number? Oh. Wait. Why? Oh my god are you going to sue me or something?! Oh god no please don’t. I literally don’t have any money. I’m literally poor as shit."

He laughed. Hard. Like a knee slapping-ly hard kind of laugh.

"Sue you? Why would I do that? I’m trying to ask you out!" Lando said, out of breath from laughing so much.

"What? Ask me out? But I yelled at you? We don’t even know each other. I could be a serial killer. We literally met at a party." You were seriously questioning if he had hit his head on the way to your office.

"Yeah but we’ll get to know each other. You haven’t answered my question. Can I have your phone number? You yelled at me so basically, you owe me." He said hopefully.

"Oh. Yeah of course" You fumbled to get your phone out of your pocket. You handed the phone over to him and watched him put his number into your phone. He then sent himself a text from your phone so that he could have your number too.

"Okay cool! I’ll call you.” He turned and started to walk away. He stopped suddenly and turned back to you

“Please don’t yell at me down the phone when I call" He joked, turning, once again, to walk out of your bosses office. Leaving you gobsmacked at his comment.

As you were walking back to your desk, you looked down at your phone, blush covering your face.

You sat back down at your desk feeling giddy. Just as you were about to log back into your computer, your phone lit up.

Lan🧡

Thank you.

You shook your head, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Shy. Just as you were about to put your phone down, another text came through.

Lan🧡

Btw you looked really pretty today 💕

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