⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ 𐔌 . ⋮ ln1 op81 gr63.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ just writing somes stories for feed our delulu 𝐒𝐇𝐄┃𝐇𝐄𝐑 ✦ also a arianator / sunshine btw ‧₊˚ ┊no hate please, I just do it for the fun, I love all the wags and all the drivers 🤍
It’s my first post in Tumblr so let me me to present myself !
ও αвσυт мє!!
𝐬𝓱𝑒/𝓱𝑒𝐫 ˖Ი𐑼⋆
* french but ( try to ) speak english
✦ f1 / TADC / DDLC / french youtube / sunshine (arianator) any many others fandoms ۶ৎ݁
demise*ual⭑.ᐟ
⋮ ⌗ ┆ ln1,op81,gr63,cl16 and ih6 girly 🤍
⌗﹒my contents ⸝⸝
I usually write short stories on the F1 x Reader, but I don’t want to close myself off from other possibilities either.
You can find my masterlists here !
I will put TW before every storys if there are somes !
I will always try to write storys who are neutral for every person who read them can be comfortable 🤍 ( i will always prevented if that’s not the case anyways )
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
۶ৎ𐔌 . ⋮ 𝓡ᥙℓᥱʂ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
skip my profile if you are not interested by my contents, just don’t being mean please, I just write for fun like the people who will read them do it for fun too.
don’t insult the drivers, the wags, the ex drivers, the ex wags, etc…internet is already enought sh*tty like that
thanks if you read until there, have a good day and follow me if you want see or like my contents 🫶🏻
Text messages between you and your boyfriend Lando.
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pairing: boyfriend!lando x fem!reader
contains: fluffff, estabilished relationship
authors note: hiii <3 i got this idea and i'm going to make it into a series, i'll try to make it for most of the drivers x first up is lando, hope you enjoy!
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Summary: During a rainy race weekend at Silverstone, a first-time paddock guest accidentally spills coffee on Lando Norris, leading to an unexpected introduction. What follows is a series of brief, casual interactions throughout the weekend that gradually build a quiet connection. As the race weekend comes to an end, a simple question leaves the encounter open to something more.
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The first thing you noticed about Formula 1 wasn't the speed.
It was the waiting.
People imagined the sport as constant movement. Cars screaming around circuits. Mechanics rushing through pit lanes. Drivers flying across continents.
In reality, there was waiting everywhere.
Waiting in airports.
Waiting in hospitality lounges.
Waiting outside garages.
Waiting for weather to change.
Waiting for lights to go out.
And right now, standing beneath the gray skies of the paddock at Silverstone, you were waiting for your coffee.
The rain tapped softly against the awning overhead.
You checked your phone.
No messages.
Typical.
Your friends Allie and Hannah, who work in media relations for McLaren, had convinced you to attend the weekend.
"You'll love it."
"I know nothing about Formula 1."
"Exactly. Fresh perspective."
Now they were buried in meetings, leaving you alone with a paddock pass hanging around your neck and no clue where you were supposed to be.
A barista finally slid your drink across the counter.
"Large latte."
"Thank you."
You turned.
And immediately walked into someone.
Coffee splashed.
A curse followed.
"Oh my God."
Your heart stopped.
The man stepped back, looking down at the stain spreading across the front of his black McLaren hoodie.
You recognized him instantly.
Not because you followed Formula 1.
Because everyone knew who he was.
Lando Norris.
The driver blinked at the coffee.
Then at you.
Then back at the coffee.
For one horrible second, you expected anger.
Instead, he laughed.
Actually laughed.
"You know," he said, examining the damage, "I've been hit by champagne, energy drinks, and a flying visor once."
You stared.
"I've never been attacked by a latte before."
Your face burned.
"I'm so sorry."
"It's okay."
"No, seriously, I am so sorry."
"It's just coffee."
"I'll buy you another hoodie."
That made him grin.
"A whole new hoodie?"
"Yes."
"Bit expensive."
"I deserve financial punishment."
He laughed again.
And suddenly you understood why people liked him.
There was something disarming about him.
No arrogance.
No celebrity attitude.
Just easy warmth.
The kind that made you feel like you'd known him longer than thirty seconds.
A team member walked over carrying towels.
"Crisis management," Lando announced dramatically.
The woman rolled her eyes.
"Again?"
"Not my fault this time."
He pointed at you.
You immediately raised your hands.
"It was absolutely my fault."
"See?" he said.
"Honesty. Respectable."
The woman handed him a towel.
Lando wiped at the hoodie before looking back at you.
"You here all weekend?"
"I think so."
"You think so?"
"My friends work for McLaren."
"Ah."
He nodded.
"One of those guests who wanders around looking lost."
"That's exactly what I am."
"I could tell."
"That obvious?"
"A little."
You groaned.
He laughed.
Then someone called his name from down the paddock.
The easy moment shattered.
The world remembered he was one of the busiest people at the track.
He started stepping away.
Then paused.
"Try not to assault any more drivers."
"I'll do my best."
"No promises?"
"No promises."
A grin flashed across his face.
And then he was gone.
Just like that.
Leaving you standing there.
Coffee-less.
Embarrassed.
And strangely disappointed.
You didn't expect to see him again.
The paddock was enormous.
Crowded.
Chaotic.
Filled with thousands of people.
Yet somehow, late that afternoon, you found yourself standing near the McLaren garage when a familiar voice appeared beside you.
"You survived."
You turned.
Lando.
Again.
Wearing a different hoodie.
You immediately pointed.
"New one?"
"No."
He looked down.
"Emergency backup."
"Of course you have emergency hoodies."
"Important part of racing."
You smiled.
"I'll remember that."
For a moment neither of you spoke.
The garage buzzed around you.
Mechanics moved equipment.
Engineers studied screens.
Rain continued falling outside.
And somehow, despite all the noise, the silence between you wasn't uncomfortable.
It felt oddly easy.
Lando leaned against a wall.
"So."
"So?"
"You learned anything about Formula 1 today?"
"Very little."
He looked offended.
"I've been here all day."
"Sorry."
"Rude."
You laughed.
"Okay. Teach me something."
His eyes lit up.
Dangerous.
Like he'd been waiting for permission.
And for the next twenty minutes he explained racing with the enthusiasm of someone discussing their favorite video game.
Tyres.
Strategies.
Qualifying.
Pit stops.
Things you'd never cared about suddenly sounded fascinating.
Mostly because of the way he spoke.
Animated.
Passionate.
Hands moving constantly.
Half the time getting distracted by his own stories.
You found yourself laughing more than listening.
Not because he wasn't interesting.
Because he was.
Very.
And somehow that was worse.
The rest of the weekend passed like that.
Unexpected conversations.
Brief encounters.
Small moments.
Nothing significant.
Nothing dramatic.
Just enough to make you notice him.
And enough for him to notice you.
A wave across a paddock.
A joke exchanged in passing.
A conversation before practice.
Five minutes after qualifying.
Ten minutes after dinner.
Little things.
Tiny things.
The kind that should mean nothing.
Yet somehow stayed in your head long after they happened.
On Sunday evening, after the race ended, you stood near the paddock exit preparing to leave.
The weekend was over.
Everyone was heading home.
You spotted Lando talking with team members nearby.
For a second, you considered saying goodbye.
Then decided against it.
He was busy.
And realistically?
This was it.
A random weekend.
A brief acquaintance.
Nothing more.
You turned toward the parking area.
"Leaving already?"
You froze.
That voice.
You looked back.
Lando was jogging toward you.
Ignoring whoever had been speaking to him moments earlier.
You blinked.
"Uh..."
Very articulate.
His smile appeared.
"You disappear without saying bye?"
"I didn't want to interrupt."
"You literally threw coffee at me."
"Good point."
"See?"
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
For the first time all weekend, he looked oddly uncertain.
Almost nervous.
Which seemed impossible.
Then he glanced away before speaking.
"So..."
You waited.
"So..."
Another pause.
You tried not to smile.
"Lando."
"Right."
He exhaled.
Then finally looked at you.
"Would it be weird if I asked for your number?"
Your heart skipped.
Just once.
Sharp enough to feel.
The world around you seemed to fade slightly.
The crowds.
The noise.
The movement.
Everything became distant.
And suddenly there was only him.
Standing there beneath a cloudy English sky.
Waiting for your answer.
Not as a Formula 1 driver.
Not as a celebrity.
Just a guy hoping you said yes.
And for the first time all weekend, you realized something dangerous.
‧˚꒰🐾୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Hey! This is my first post here and i thought it would be good to make a little presentation of 🪲ME🪲!
First of all, thank you to my best friend who made me download tumblr hehe @l4ndomo0n 💚
────୨ৎ────
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ So i’m Mae! I’m 16 years old born on november 18, 2009! (5 days after Lando hehe).🌿
⭑.ᐟ One of my fav colors is green, and my fav is purple but i like them all •-•
ᝰ.ᐟ I’m an omnisexual girl! And don’t really care about pronouns i think so call me whatever you want!🍏
>⩊< Some of my interest are in my bio but if you have questions about others things that i like just ask me i’ll be super happy to tell you!!
𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟 And finally what i’m gonna post here:
- Mostly stories that will be Lando x reader! With people’s idea. It can be wlm, mlm, or without gender for the reader. It can be freaky or soft (and sad too). If one of these things makes you uncomfortable i’m sorry but i will make a bit of everything so that everyone can find what they want!
- And what i want is respect. I write what i like, if it’s not your things or you find it weird or something just skip, this acc is a safe space where everyone need to stay respectful, thank you.💚
So my presentation is over, thank you for reading it and see you later.🪲
