Playing with the big boys | Lando Norris
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: When Lando invites his Quadrant mates over to film a chaotic 24-hour challenge, his girlfriend quickly becomes part of the madnessâfrom oatmeal stand-offs to sim racing showdowns. Between banter, workouts, and accidental flirting caught on camera, the day turns into a hilarious reminder that love and laughter are the best team dynamic
Warnings: usage of "y/n" (once), mild language, excessive teasing, British slang, and fluff
The evening before the chaos, the Monaco flat glowed in warm evening light, golden reflections bouncing off the sleek countertops and the faint hum of the city outside. Lando leaned lazily against the marble island, one bare foot hooked around the leg of a stool, spooning peanut butter straight from the jar like it was fine dining. His curls were still damp from a shower, sticking out in endearing disarray, and his eyes gleamed with that unmistakable mischief reserved only for troubleâor a new Quadrant idea.
âLove,â he began, voice full of that casual charm that usually preceded nonsense, âthe boys are coming round tomorrowâweâre filming that Quadrant video. You know, âTraining and Eating Like Lando Norris for 24 Hours.ââ
You didnât look up right away, still half-buried in your laptop, legs tucked under you on the sofa.
âSo, basically, you torturing your mates in the name of content?â you said, arching an eyebrow when you finally met his grin.
He scooped another spoonful, pointing it at you like a weapon. âExactly. But I wanted to check if youâre okay being in itâor if youâd rather scarper before the madness begins.â
You stretched, yawning, and padded over to the counter in your oversized tee, stealing the jar from him. âNah, Iâll stay. Someoneâs got to keep you all alive. And film your downfall when Ginge inevitably breaks something.â
Lando chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned beside him. âYou love the chaos really.â
âOnly when Iâm not cleaning it up.â
The next morning was the opposite of calm. The faint scent of coffee mixed with the hum of cameras being set up, light panels reflecting off the white walls. Before youâd even finished brushing your hair, a thunderous knock came at the door followed by Gingeâs unmistakable yell: âGOOD MORNING, LANDOâS WORLD!â
Ethan followed behind, camera already recording, narrating like a documentary host. âDay one of living like Lando Norris: immediate regret.â
Lando, already in athletic sweats and a hoodie, rolled his eyes. âItâs eight a.m., lads. Try not to scare the neighbors.â
Breakfast prep began with Lando handing out containers to the boys, narrating to the camera like a pro. âHigh-fiber, high-energy, apple-cinnamon oatmeal. Breakfast of champions.â
You, still half-asleep at the counter, watched the gloopy concoction with suspicion. The smell of cinnamon couldnât mask the mushy texture. You gagged slightly, then belched without shame. âNope. Absolutely not.â
Ginge burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped his mic. âSheâs definitely eating better than us, mate. My breakfast looks like dog food!â
Lando rolled his eyes but smiled, flipping the spoon at him. âShe hates oatmeal. Texture thing. Wonât even look at it.â
âCan confirm,â you said, cracking eggs into a sizzling pan. âI like food that doesnât feel like baby puke, thank you very much.â
The aroma of butter and toasted bread filled the kitchen, and even the boysâ heads turned toward your plate.
âSweetheartâs got standards,â Lando teased, placing his bowl beside yours and leaning in to kiss your temple. The boys groaned collectively, clutching their chests.
Ethan pointed dramatically. âOhhh, he called her sweetheart! Youâre so whipped, Norris!â
Lando only grinned, completely unbothered. âAnd proud of it, mate.â
The spare room had turned into a makeshift gym: dumbbells lined up against the wall, yoga mats sprawled like a patchwork of chaos, cameras perched in every corner, and Ginge already moaning about the lighting. Lando, ever the showman, stood in the corner clapping his hands.
âRight, lads, and loveâpush-ups, planks, Russian twists, stretchesâletâs see who survives,â he declared with mock authority.
âTranslation,â you said, rolling your shoulders, âletâs see which one of you muppets gives up first.â
âOi!â Ethan barked, stretching dramatically. âIâll have you know I went to the gym last week.â
âYeah, to cancel your membership,â you shot back. The crew burst into laughter before the timer even started.
Once the clock began, chaos unfolded. Lando was steady and smug, Ginge groaning halfway through the first set of push-ups. You were a machineâcontrolled breathing, precise form, ponytail swishing every rep.
Ten minutes in, Ethan collapsed face-first on his mat, muttering, âI see stars.â
Ginge flopped onto his side, looking betrayed by life itself. âHow the hell is she not dying? Sheâs tiny!â
âCompact efficiency,â you teased, resting in a plank with ease. âBuilt different, boys. Maybe drink some water instead of crying.â
Lando barked a laugh, shaking his head. âYou lot are pathetic. Even my missus is showing you up.â
âMissus?!â Ginge gasped between breaths. âOh, listen to himâproper domesticated now!â
When the push-ups ended, you all transitioned into Russian twists. Ethan kept losing count, Ginge complained his abs were âon strike,â and Lando made exaggerated coach noises: âCâmon, lads! Engage the core, donât be soft!â
You smirked. âCareful, Norris. Iâll out-twist you next.â
âBring it, sweetheart,â he said, earning another chorus of groans from the boys.
By the time you hit the bench press, everyone was red-faced and sweaty.
"There's no way you'll get me on that bench press," Ginge scoffed.
You tossed your ponytail back and grinned sweetly. âBet I can lift more than you, Ginge.â
âOh yeah?â he puffed, staggering toward the weights. "Now we are doing the bench press."
The moment of truth: your bar went up smoother than his. You didnât even flinch while he grunted like an old tractor. Ethan cackled so hard the weights nearly rolled off. âMate, sheâs showing you up on camera! Absolute scenes!â
You winked at Lando, who leaned against the rack, pure smug boyfriend energy radiating off him. âTold you darlingâs a beast, lads.â
âDonât call me darling in the gym, you muppet!â you said between laughs, pressing through another rep.
âSorry, love, canât help it,â he teased, lowering beside you to spot. âItâs muscle memoryâand Iâve got a very strong one for you.â
âGet a room!â Ethan called, wiping his forehead.
âWeâre literally in one,â you shot back, smirking.
The camera caught it allâthe sweat, the swearing, the laughter. Ginge called everyone a âbunch of bloody bastardsâ as he lay sprawled on the floor, while Lando just leaned over you, grin wide, looking like the luckiest bloke in the world.
After a brutal session, everyone stumbled back to the kitchen like a pack of zombies. The air smelled faintly of sweat and victory, and the sound of the blender was enough to make Ginge groan. Lando was at the counter, all focused precision, tossing protein powder and banana chunks into the blender like he was on a cooking show. You hopped up onto the counter, hair tied back into a bun, still glowing from the workout, and cracked open a Red Bull with the crisp psssht sound that echoed through the room.
Gingeâs head snapped toward you immediately. âOi! Youâre a traitor! Whereâs your Monster, woman?â
You smirked over the rim of your can. âGod forbid a girl has good taste.â
Ethan practically choked on his shake, spluttering, âSomeoneâs gonna clip that for sure. Youâve just started a brand war in Landoâs kitchen!â
Lando handed them each their shakes, shaking his head with a grin. âYouâre all drama queens, honestly. Drink up before I start doing it for you.â
Ginge sniffed his cup suspiciously. âMate, this looks like cement.â
âThatâs because it builds character,â Lando shot back.
âYeah, and maybe a new digestive system,â Ethan muttered, making you snort.
Then came the cold saunaâa bright, glassy room filled with vapor and regret. Everyone shuffled in, towels draped over shoulders, each step accompanied by dramatic gasps.
âBloody hell, itâs like stepping into the Arctic!â Ginge yelped, hopping in place.
The boys wore shorts, their teeth chattering audibly, while you rocked a sleek Calvin Klein set that made even the camera crew pause mid-shot. Lando caught sight of you and nearly dropped his towel, muttering under his breath, âWell, thatâs unfair.â
âEyes up, Norris,â you teased, shoving him lightly.
âImpossible, love,â he said, already grinning.
The cameras rolled as Ethan squeaked, âMy nipples are freezing! They could cut glass!â
You crossed your arms with a yelp. âMine too! Bloody hell, this is torture. Whose stupid idea was this?â
Lando raised his hand immediately. âContent, darling. Think of the content.â
Before the cameraman could even think about panning toward you, Lando stepped right in front, arms spread out like a human shield. âOi, no free show. Thatâs exclusive access, thanks.â
Ginge doubled over laughing. âChecky bastard strikes again! Protecting his national treasure!â
Ethan wheezed out, âWe need to get him a leash or summat!â
You were laughing so hard your breath came out in visible clouds, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face against Landoâs chest. âYouâre ridiculous.â
He bent down to murmur, âAnd yet you love me.â
You tilted your head up with a grin. âUnfortunately, yes. Now get your freezing arse away from me before we both turn into ice sculptures.â
The boys erupted in laughter again, and the camera zoomed in on Landoâs dramatic shivering, Ethan chanting, âHeâs gone soft, lads! Proper mushy!â while Ginge shouted, âSomeone get these two lovebirds a heater!â
It was chaosâloud, freezing, hilarious chaosâand you couldnât stop smiling through every shiver.
Landoâs dining table groaned under poke bowls and one very defiant carbonara. The late-afternoon sun poured through the big windows, casting a warm glow over the spread. Steam rose from the poke bowlsâvibrant piles of rice, teriyaki chicken, and vegetables neatly arrangedâwhile your creamy carbonara sat proudly at the end like a rebellious queen among peasants.
âPasta for the princess,â Ginge declared, pointing his fork dramatically toward your plate. He was halfway through his bowl and already whining.
âHow come she gets proper food while weâre stuck with rabbit grub?â
You twirled your fork with exaggerated grace.
âGotta fuel my superior muscle performance,â you said smugly, taking a slow, luxurious bite while the boys groaned.
Lando shot you a playful look across the table. âYou mean your âignore the diet planâ performance.â
âExactly,â you replied with a grin. âAnd yet somehow, I still outlifted your mates this morning.â
Ethan threw a napkin at you. âYouâre insufferable.â
âJealousy doesnât suit you, darling,â you fired back, mimicking Landoâs tone perfectly.
Halfway through lunch, the chatter hit full volume. Ginge sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with an expression of pure longing.
âYou know what? Instead of living like Lando, Iâd rather live like her. Normal food, a nice flat in Monaco, hot rich boyfriendâŚâ He jabbed his fork with a wink in Landoâs direction. âIf you two break up, mate, call me, yeah?â
Ethan nearly spat out his drink, cackling. âImagine Ginge moving in hereâheâd eat all your pasta, steal your hoodies, and call you âbabe.ââ
âGinge, pack your bags, youâre moving in, love!" Lando declared with mock seriousness, slinging an arm around Gingeâs shoulders as the room erupted in laughter.
You giggled, setting your fork down.
âNoted,â you said, tapping away on your laptop. âIâll put you on the waiting list, Ginge. Might take a few centuries, though.â
Ginge placed a dramatic hand over his heart. âHeartbroken.â
Between bites, the boys started a competitive game of Jenga at the end of the table. Ethan accused Ginge of cheating every five minutes, Lando kept nudging pieces when they werenât looking, and every collapse of the tower earned exaggerated screams. You were half-typing, half-laughing at their idiocy, occasionally looking up when someone shouted, âSHE MOVED IT!â or âYou absolute donut, that was stable!â
Lando, trying to look innocent, had his phone propped up to capture the chaos for Quadrantâs behind-the-scenes. Every so often, his eyes drifted toward you. You could feel his gaze, that quiet fondness that contrasted the rowdy energy in the room.
He finally leaned over slightly, voice soft under the laughter. âYou okay, darling?â
You looked up, meeting his warm smile. âPerfect,â you said. âCarry on being adorable.â
The boys immediately broke into a chorus of exaggerated gagging noises. âOh, for Godâs sake!â Ethan groaned. âWeâre trying to eat, not watch a bloody rom-com!â
You laughed, tossing a napkin at him while Lando just grinned, clearly unbotheredâbecause in that moment, chaos or not, the two of you were completely at ease.
Evening rolled around, extension cords snaked across the floor, monitors flickered to life, and the sound of simulated engines filled the flat. Ethan was already fiddling with the setup, muttering something about steering sensitivity while Ginge narrated dramatically into the camera like a sports commentator.
Lando adjusted his headset, legs sprawled out as he took the seat, his competitive grin unmistakable.
âWatch and learn, lads,â he said, cracking his knuckles. Within seconds, the screen showed his car spinning wildly off track.
âAhaha! Bin it already!â Ginge howled, clapping like a seal.
Ethan was doubled over laughing. âProfessional driver, my arse!â
âShut it, you muppets!â Lando shot back, resetting the sim and glaring at them. You were perched on the desk nearby, laptop open, pretending to work while occasionally stifling a giggle.
Next, Ginge took the seat, arms flailing, body swaying side to side like he could physically steer the car.
âMate, what are you doing, ballroom dancing with it?â Lando snorted, nearly falling off his chair.
Ethanâs turn was no better. He crashed into the first corner and yelled, âThe gameâs rigged!â
You couldnât help laughing. âSure, blame the equipment, not your driving, you donut.â
Ethan grinned and pointed at you. âOi, Y/N. Youâve been dating a professional for years. Fancy showing us how itâs done?â
You sighed dramatically, closing your laptop with a click. âFine. Prepare to cry.â
You took the seat, adjusted the wheel like a pro, and gave Lando a cheeky smirk. âAny tips, coach?â
He leaned down, voice teasing. âDonât crash and don't break anything, love.â
Within minutes, the sound of squealing tires and gasps filled the room. The boys crowded behind you, narrating like commentators. âSheâs quick into turn threeâbloody hell, sheâs actually good!â Ethan shouted.
Ginge leaned closer to the screen. âNo way, sheâs flyingâoh my God, sheâs overtaken his time!â
Moments later, your lap time popped up. Youâd not only beaten the boysâyouâd beaten Lando.
The room erupted. Ginge fell off his chair, limbs flailing. Ethan screamed, âSHEâS TAKEN HIS JOB!â while the camera captured Lando staring at the results, jaw hanging open in disbelief.
You leaned back with a smug grin, arms crossed. âTold you lot to prepare.â
Lando finally blinked, laughing through his mock horror. âMy seatâs threatened. Guess Iâll have to retire early, love.â He slid an arm around you, still shaking his head.
You smirked, tapping the wheel. âDonât worry, Iâll hire you as my pit crew. You can fetch me snacks and polish my trophies.â
âCheeky,â he said fondly, tugging you close as the boys hooted with laughter.
âOi, Lando!â Ginge called out between giggles. âIf she replaces you, Iâm your new teammate, yeah?â
Lando pointed at him dramatically. âYou? Over my dead body, mate!â
The laughter rolled on until the cameras stopped recording and the chaos died down. Later, when the boys finally left, the flat returned to quiet. The two of you collapsed on the couch, limbs tangled in exhaustion, a comfortable silence settling between you. The faint hum of the city drifted in through the window, the scent of takeout lingering in the air.
âDâyou think theyâll survive editing that?â you asked, half-laughing.
âDoubt it,â he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice low and warm. âBut at least they got a glimpse of what lifeâs like with me.â
You let out a quiet hum of laughter, eyes heavy with sleep. âNo, babe. They got to see what itâs like with us.â
He smiled, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hand as he whispered, âYeah⌠best teammate I couldâve wished for.â
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