Hi, I hope you are doing well.đč
Can you help by sharing my story, reblog, and donating if you can, to keep hope alive for me, I'm type 1 diabetes. I am calling on your humanity and kindness to help me donate to reach the goal of $340.
This amount will enable the approval of an insulin pump that will help me better control my diabetes. Although I am happy that I have been approved the hardest part is the money to pay for the pump and equipment, please your contribution is important. Thank you â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
I'm so sorry I can't donate but I will definitely reblog and share with everyone else. God is with you and you will most definitely recover. I believe in you <3
Max Verstappen has three kids; Penelope, Lily and Kimi Antonelli
gotta respect verstappism of kimi antonelli bc when he was told that max got 10s penalty for their collision, his response was "WHAT ABOUT PIASTRI?!"
the reblog notif is me
i loveeeee f1 tumblr i love reblogging cunty photos of drivers and tagging it something like "so hot so sexy so slay!" and then immediately getting a reblog notif of someone else going "ugh he deserves to be bent in half and tongue fucked in his driver's room 5 minutes before a press conference and sent out all flushed and rosy-cheeked with dry spit between his thighs" like i just think that's such a beautiful experience. the duality of it all. honestly what a place to be x
last christmas.
hello. i got whamageddoned early this year and iâm okay with it bc âlast christmasâ is a bop. felt inspired to write some sad shit. mixed feelings on this one but we move - no smut for once (who am i?). not much else to say really. lemme know what you think and happy holidays <3
warnings: ANGST! language, alcohol, bad boyfriend behaviour
3.8k words
based loosely on âlast christmasâ by wham! (normal text = present) (bold & italics = song lyrics) (italics = flashback)
a crowded room, friends with tired eyes
iâm hiding from you and your soul of ice
it had to be one of the coldest winters to date, utterly freezing. the chill had sunk into your bones in early november and you hadnât been able to shake it since. it was bitter, bordering on painful, left you shaking, but it didnât compare to the plummeting temperature in the room when he walked in.
it was christmas eve and old traditions were dying hard. the norris household had always been decorated beautifully, warm and cosy and inviting, a highlight of your childhood. cisca and adam knew how to throw a party, your parents and your brothers attending their annual christmas parties since the very first one. your parents were close with the norrisâs, as were you, sort of. well, you used to be.
youâd known lando since you were seven years old, when youâd weakly kicked his kart with all the strength you had. heâd beaten you in a race and his smug little face had pissed you off more than the loss. heâd just stood there, grimacing and narrowing his eyes in search of damage. there wasnât any.
disdain grew into a close friendship as you both continued to compete, weekends spent dotted about the english countryside, moving from track to track. you gave it up, losing interest and seeing a different path for yourself. he never gave up and thatâs why he was where he was now, sitting pretty in f1, and not with you.
things used to be fine. you stopped karting and he didnât, but nothing changed. he was still your best friend and you were still his, but you were just kids. what did you know? nothing, apparently, because as the years went on and life got more complicated, the worst happened. feelings.
it was hard to judge who fell first, but you both fell, tumbling uncontrollably off the cliff and into the rocks below. it was torturous, your late teenage years spent wallowing in internalised angst and self pity, sharing longing glances that you both ignored afterwards.
looking back, it was better that way. the pain had been worth it, because at least you had him in your life. now, you had nothing, while the whole world and the prettiest woman youâd ever seen seemed to rest in the palm of his hand.
it felt a bit silly to be stood there watching him walk in, tugging the sleeve of your tight red dress anxiously. he looked so good that you felt a bit sick, suddenly flushed. the crisp, white dress shirt he wore seemed to wrap around his lean body perfectly, his tanned skin glowing. and her. god, her. she was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world, or thatâs how it felt in the moment, her hand wrapped around his bicep. they were the centre of attention, the happy couple, perfect together. youâd seen her on instagram, shamelessly stalking her page, pictures of them together in dubai, on yachts, in the paddock, making you cry alone in your apartment a million miles away. what the fuck were you doing here?
you turned your back to them quickly, the glass of red wine in your hand being quickly raised to your lips. it had been made for sipping, and so you gagged as you gulped it down in mouthfuls. you ignored the way your eyes stung and took a deep breath, searching for anyone in the crowd that would be able to distract you.
your parents were chatting away with landoâs and the last thing you needed was a grilling on romantic partners and your job from that group, especially since they all knew what youâd turned down last year. your brothers were talking animatedly with oli and savannah, little mila perched on your brothers hip. you wondered why no one could ever focus on his love life instead, he was clearly better suited to having one, the little girl taking to him so naturally. you quickly realised you were out of lifelines, not fancying striking up conversation with a stranger. you knew that you shouldnât have come, avidly against attending until your mother practically dragged you kicking and screaming. you should have stayed in london, cold and alone and wallowing, because nothing could have been worse than this.
between shaky breaths, you made it to the drinks table, abandoning the stained wineglass in exchange of some far too expensive champagne, seeking comfort in the fact that it would do the job. you felt a familiar presence beside you, tensing up as you said a prayer. anyone but him, you begged. iâll take her over him, anything. just not him. your shoulders slumped as you relaxed, the sight of max fewtrell doing everything to ease you. as soon as you clocked the sympathy in his eyes, you wondered if his arrival was the worst of them all.
âhey, you.â he spoke fondly, ruffling your hair.
âdonât be a prick, max.â you mumbled, smoothing out the mess heâd made. it didnât matter really, there was no one here to look good for.
âsomeoneâs in a mood.â he teased, opening his arms for a hug. you glared at him for a second before succumbing, having missed your friend.
max looked tired, the drive from london wearing him out. he was busy these days, everyone seemed to be. you were too, but it was different; you were miserable. you asked him how heâd been, watching as he spoke happily. new opportunities, new girlfriend, new scenery. you couldnât even be jealous of him, because you knew that he deserved a bit of happiness.
âwhat about you? howâs it, uh, going?â his head tilted, the returns of that stupid sympathetic look dimming the spark in his eyes. you shrugged in response.
âoh, you know me. iâm muddling through.â you brushed the question off. âbeing back home is-â
âawful?â he cut you off, deadpan. you scoffed out a laugh. max always knew.
âyou know how it is.â you smiled sadly, breaking eye contact.
âhave you spoken to him?â maxâs voice was gentle, but inquisitive nonetheless. you shook your head so strongly that you could practically feel your brain rattling around. âyou should, you know. he misses you.â
you almost fell off your high heels at the laugh you let out, full body shaking with incredulity at maxâs statement. he looked borderline uncomfortable as he plastered on a fake smile, as to not make you look quite so peculiar when people turned to see what was so funny.
âare you having a fucking laugh?â you gasped out, voice laced with the unhinged rage that you tried so hard to hide from everyone else.
âyou and i both know iâm not.â max was firm, eyebrow raised. âyou know how bad last year hurt him. it didnât need to be like this.â max murmured, and suddenly it wasnât funny anymore. it felt like you were being told off. maybe you deserved it.
âi did what i had to do. for both our sakes.â you reasoned, hating how desperate you sounded. desperate to prove that youâd made the right decision, to prove everyone else wrong.
max turned his back, opting to stand beside you instead of before you, the both of you now looking out across the room, instead of at each other. there they were, her pressed against his chest, laughing together as they danced. you felt bile rising in the back of your throat.
âand howâs that working out for you?â maxâs question sent you straight back to hell.
-
a face on a lover with a fire in his heart
a man under cover, but you tore me apart
lando couldnât help but stare, the gorgeous green dress you were wearing doing nothing to ease his heart rate as he watched you from across the room. youâd been driving him insane since he was fifteen, and at twenty one, the man could barely breathe in your presence.
youâd been there in abu dhabi, watched him finish off his best season yet, wrapping him a hug when the race didnât exactly go his way and affirming that youâd never been so proud of him. he knew he was in love with you, but in that moment, he knew he had to tell you, because your pride in him was what made it all seem real. the years fighting for a place, the blood, sweat and tears, the different countries that kept you both apart. you made every accomplishment seem real, because your affection was what he craved more than anything at all.
he gave you as much of himself as he could when he was home, often failing to coax you out to attend races, so when christmas eve rolled around, he knew he had to take the biggest risk of his life so far. liquid courage seemed effective, so the champagne in his glass quickly disappeared, even though the taste made him ill. it was a small price to pay to be able to finally, finally tell you that all of his lucky stars resided in your eyes.
the first problem arose when he couldnât stop throwing back glasses of champagne. his palms were sweating, anxiety wracking him and all his nerves, the glass being raised to his lips all too easily. the second problem arose when he couldnât actually see you anymore, eyes scanning the room in panic. the panic overtook any other sense of fear that he felt; he had to find you. the third problem arose when he eventually did.
you were sat in the back garden on the patio, giggling to yourself, as wasted as he was. you smiled goofily when you saw him watching, arms outstretched. he moved to sit beside you in the cold air, and you leaned into him instantly. he froze, thawing out as soon as you looked up at him. all too easily, his arm was around your shoulder, keeping you close, warm.
âwhat are you laughing about, hmm?â lando asked, words sloshing together, subtlety enough that you didnât notice. you let out another giggle in response.
âmax gave me this. said we should,â you paused briefly, as if you were trying to carefully consider your words, your inebriation getting in the way. âsaid we should use it.â you pursed your lips, doe eyes boring into his. lando gulped.
twirling between your fingers was a sprig of mistletoe. max is a fucking bastard, lando thought. he stared down at your hands, watching the way you dropped the plant into your lap.
âand what did you tell him?â lando murmured, meeting your eyes again. his eyes were glossy, just like yours were, and he found himself strangely comfortable, at ease. more at ease than heâd been in years.
âtold him that you probably donât want to kiss me underneath the mistletoe.â your smile faltered ever so slightly but you kept up your teasing facade. he knew he had to go for it, now or never.
âyouâre right, i donât.â lando started, watching your eyebrows narrow, a flash of hurt striking your features that was invisible to the untrained eye. way to be blunt. âi donât want our first kiss to be part of some tacky christmas tradition.â
he dipped his forehead down against yours, the alcohol leading the way as he waited for you to process his words, your lips parting in an âohâ as it dawned on you.
âlando-â you sounded panicked. he ignored it.
âcan i?â he whispered, begging.
you broke free from under his arm, standing to your feet, wobbling as you scurried across the patio to create some distance.
âyou canât just- lando, we canât. you canât do that to me.â you were flustered, genuinely distraught.
âdo what? let you know how i feel about you?â he tried to mask his the hurt in his voice but it was impossible.
âno. no! you canât do that.â
âand why not? why canât i?â
âbecause itâs not fair!â
-
once bitten, and twice shy
i keep my distance, but you still catch my eye
âbecause itâs not fair!â
your words from last year stabbed him through the heart as he walked in the room. her tight grip on his arm did nothing to stop his eyes from finding you instantly in the crowded room. he told himself that he hated you, sometimes, just to make it easier. it wasnât true, no matter how much he wished it was, a fact made glaringly clear by the way his eyes hooked onto you in that dangerous red dress. how dare you turn up here like that? how dare you make him think about you when he was here with her?
lando was certain that you didnât know the meaning of the word âfairâ.
it was like a sickness, the way he constantly had an eye on you all evening. it was bittersweet, having you here. he was furious that youâd dare to come, but also the sight of you, a whole year on, seemed to take the weight off of his chest.
he watched you talk to max, curiosity taking over, but he barely had time to process the sight, a hand slipping into his.
âdance with me, baby.â he couldnât say no to her, so he pulled her close and went along with it. he didnât let you out of his sight, watching you from the corner of his eye as he swayed with her.
lando could feel your eyes on him, burning holes in his relationship. he felt undeniably uncomfortable, fake smile on his face while she whispered in his ear. the guilt wracked him. sheâd been a distraction, a welcome one, and now it was serious. too serious. but at least it was easy, and he felt like he deserved easy, after what youâd put him through.
he didnât get to watch you for long, your red dress trailing behind you as you stormed away from max, disappearing from landoâs view, empty glass discarded.
lando dropped her hands.
-
you hunched over the sink, letting the sobs ricochet off the walls. youâd tried to be quiet, breathe your way through it, but that seemed futile and you just let the tears take over, numbing you.
max was right. how was this working out for you? it wasnât, not one bit. you had nothing, no one, and lando had it all, with someone that wasnât you. you couldnât blame him for moving on from you, you couldnât blame him for your unhappiness, not when it was your own doing. you could have had everything with him that she did, and youâd thrown it down the drain.
a long, hard look in the mirror told you that your makeup was somewhat still in tact, the tears finally agreeing to a ceasefire. you were smart to have worn waterproof mascara, you knew it would come in handy. you ran your fingers through your hair, tidying yourself up, hands dragging down your sides to smooth out your dress. once you were sure you didnât look like a train wreck, you took a deep breath, unlocking the door and peering into the hallway. you wished youâd stayed weeping in the small room.
there she fucking was. her.
her eyes locked on yours in the empty corridor, anxiety pooling in the pit of your stomach. her face softened, an audible gulp signalling from the other woman. except she wasnât the other woman, she was his only woman.
âiâm sorry, i can find another bathroom.â she murmured, her voice sugar and spice, angelic. she seemed nice. for fuck sake.
there was no way she didnât know who you were, the way she seemed on edge, fiddling with the silver bracelet on her wrist. i bet he gave her that. you shook your head of the thought, stepping out into the hallway.
âoh, no, no. thatâs fine, uh, sorry, here, um, iâll just go.â you rambled, heels clacking awkwardly on the hardwood floor as you floundered your escape.
âwait! um, i hope that this isnât hard for you.â she was sincere, so, so sincere, and it made you sick. why couldnât she be the bitch youâd painted her out to be in your head?
âdoes he make you happy? is he happy?â you rushed the words out, embarrassed. say no. say no!
she just looked at you, head tilted. more fucking sympathy. it told you everything you needed to know. you nodded your head in forced understanding and turned on your heel.
-
now i know what a fool iâve been,
but if you kiss me now i know youâd fool me again
âthought i might find you here.â he sounded the same. his voice warmed you up, but the deja vu hit and suddenly you were ice cold again. you were back on that damn patio and heâd found you once again.
âwell, here i am.â you replied, sinking into the silence. you wrung your hands nervously, avoiding eye contact.
âdidnât think youâd come.â he was blunt, straightforward. it was better like that.
âyou and me, both.â you laughed humourlessly, watching the way his shoulders slumped.
âhow are you?â he asked softly, awkwardly. âyou look beautiful.â he blurted.
âoh, just fantastic. heard you tried to grow a beard.â you bit back, as sarcastic as ever, hoping that he couldnât see the blush spreading across your cheeks. it was nostalgic for him, and he would have smiled if it wasnât for the sadness in your voice.
he couldnât help but scoff, and you finally met his eyes at the sound, your own narrowing.
âif youâve got something to say, then say it, lando.â
âit didnât need to be like this.â
âdonât say that when your girlfriends on the other side of that wall.â you stood from the bench, gesturing at the house.
âitâs true, though. you know it is.â he didnât take his eyes off of you, his entire focus honed in on you. you deserved it, this onslaught from him. the wound youâd caused clearly hadnât healed.
âof course i do. itâs all my fault, i know it is.â you spoke desperately, voice breaking, laced with shame.
âdo you miss me?â he stepped towards you, closing in.
âdo you miss me?â you echoed. both questions were equally as unfair.
âi try not to. every day. but i know i shouldnât, itâs pathetic.â his voice was raw with emotion, the very same way it had been last year, and your heart thudded inside its cage.
âwhy is it pathetic?â you whispered. he was close enough to hear you perfectly, now. your breath hitched.
âbecause you didnât want me.â
-
âitâs not fair?â lando felt his eyebrows furrow, confused. what wasnât fair?
âno itâs not.â you said quietly, voice wavering.
âwhat? whatâs not fair?â he was confused, the alcohol and your caginess being a deadly combination.
âyou being gone, me being here. câmon, lando, it wouldnât work.â you explained, eyes welling up with tears as you spoke. he had never imagined this conversation going so horribly wrong. heâd replayed what this moment would be like over and over and over again, and now that it was here, it was gut wrenching. it wasnât supposed to be like this.
âyes it could. if you want me, this, it could work.â he reasoned. he was firm, this was his only chance. he had to get you to listen to him.
you were quiet, unmoving in your spot across from him. he took another risk. what more was there to lose at this point? he closed the gap between you both slowly, inching closer and closer until your toes touched, and your chests bumped with every breath.
âstop me. if you donât want me to do this, then stop me.â lando was clear, searching your eyes for any hesitation. your soft nod was enough to convince him to close the gap.
kissing you was relief. it was getting out of the car after a long race, coming home, winning a round of golf. it was sunshine, ethereal, something heâd happily do for the rest of his life. you kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, your hands in his hair, raking through the soft strands. one of his cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss, while the other rested comfortably on your waist.
your hands slid from his hair down his neck and to his chest. he sighed in content, lost in you, until a soft force pressed against his chest. youâd broken away, stumbling backwards, away from him.
âlandoâŠâ
âdonât do it.â he looked down, feeling his own eyes begin to water. heâd blame it on the bitter, bitter cold.
âit wonât work. i donât,â you inhaled shakily. âi donât want this.â
âyou donât want me?â lando practically whimpered, the same way a puppy would if you kicked it.
âi donât want this.â
-
now I've found a real love
you'll never fool me again
âgo back inside. go on. go back to her.â it had started to snow, frozen rain falling in chilling globs.
âis that what you really want?â
âgod, lando. no. are you happy now? no, i donât want that. i donât want to watch you walk away. it fucking hurts.â you were crying now, the tears flowing freely.
âthen donât let me.â he looked like he would cry too, and you wouldnât blame him. your entire relationship had built up to this moment.
âthis is ridiculous. youâre with her. and i canât watch you leave me every week. call me selfish but i canât. i wonât.â
âthen come with me. you could have always just come with me!â his voice was raised now, getting progressively higher in his aggravation.
âand uproot everything, my whole life, to follow you? lando, you donât get it. iâll hate you if i have to leave my life behind, and i canât face that.â
âwhat do you want from me? iâve given you options, iâve told you what i want, something i know you want too, and yet you continue with this deflective bullshit.â
âjust go back inside.â you were prepared to get on your hands and knees and beg him to go.
âiâm not doing this again. iâm not having this conversation with you ever again.â his eyes began to water and you squeezed your eyes shut. he looked broken, disheveled, pristine shirt wrinkled.
âgood.â it came out emotionless.
âdo us both a favour and donât come next year.â
and with that, he left, just like youâd begged him to, your body turning into ice, veins burning as you froze. you couldnât take your eyes off of him as he walked away, forever, as the snow buried you in his back garden.
you grieved him, right there, stood in the very spot that heâd kissed you the year prior. youâd never really be gone and neither would he, too intertwined and hopeless. you gasped out a sob, a cry of heartbreak, your very own christmas carol ringing out into the darkness.
-
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there's always that one thing in your head that you've ALWAYS and I mean always wanted to say but you're just a scared little girl bc what if NO ONE MATCHES YOUR FREAK but then like angels draped in white cloth, someone else says it. This post is that one thing. For me at least smh. đđđđđ
carlos sainz in that suit keeps making me wanna be his clumsy secretary that cant get shit right so he has to fuck me dumb in order for me to get my job right for once đđđđđđ so down bad for him omg
congrats on 5k queen! youâre writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)âŠprompts along the lines of âi donât think im ever going to love anyone the way i love youâ//âi donât think i want to love anyone elseâ
how did it end?
ln x famous fem!reader
in which it ends, untilâŠ
i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses
songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking
4.1k words
one gasp, and thenâŠ
âhow did it end?â the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.
you donât know her all that well, sheâs signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.
you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.
you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. sheâs being kind and you despise her for it right now.
âi wonât tell anyone.â she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.
yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what youâve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you donât begrudge her, though, thatâs the nature of the industry.
âwell, it was good to see you.â you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.
fittings, shoots, paris trip.
mhm.
swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.
cool.
week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.
no.
âwhat? no.â you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise itâs no longer there.
âwhat do you mean, no?â she narrows her eyes at you.
âi canât go to the race. no.â
âgirl, i love you, but did i ask?â
âyou know i canât-â
âyou wonât have to see him.â she reasons.
âbut what if i do? heâs obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.â
âlando norris is not gonna be the end of you.â
you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.
what if he already was?
-
look who we ran into at the shops,
walking in circles like he was lost
lando stares at the shampoo.
specifically, the one you use. used. he canât be too sure anymore, he supposes.
heâd popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didnât want to acknowledge how long heâd been staring at the womenâs toiletries section.
you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasnât safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like heâd killed you himself.
perhaps he had, in a way.
the basket grazes the outside of his leg.
thatâs the shower gel heâd buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.
thereâs the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.
oh, and thereâs the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-
âlando?â a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.
âoh, alex. hey.â lando croaks. he hasnât noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.
âwhat you doing, mate?â alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans landoâs face, puffy eyes, watery.
âshopping.â
âfor womenâs shampoo?â
âno, no, just⊠looking.â lando stutters.
âwhen was the last time you slept?â alexâs voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesnât know what to say to his heartbroken friend.
lando smiles weakly.
âiâve been sleeping.â
alex sighs.
âokay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?â
landoâs shoulders visibly sag.
âabout a month ago.â
-
we hereby conduct this post-mortem
âwe canât do this anymore.â
the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like youâve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.
âi know.â lando breathes shakily.
âi donât want this butâŠâ
âyeah.â
itâs been such a good year. youâre in love. itâs not enough. thereâs too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone whoâs on the other side of the world.
heâll be in london. youâll be in brazil.
heâll be in australia. youâll be in amsterdam.
itâs too much.
âi love you, though.â you remind him meekly.
âdonât know how to not love you.â he sniffles.
your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.
you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks heâs left there. to remember me by, heâd muttered dryly.
when youâre both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.
âhow is it possible that i miss you already?â he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.
âi get it, lan. iâve been missing you for a while.â
youâre gone when he wakes up.
and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign
-
come one, come all
itâs happening again
the empathetic hunger descends
there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.
youâre in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.
âso, what happened there, with lando?â
you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.
âweâre both just so busy, you know? heâs doing amazing things in f1 and iâm all over the place with work.â
âwe love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.â he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.
vultures. everyone is a vulture.
âand we still have a lot of love for each other. heâs a wonderful person.â
there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.
âwe still have a lot of love for each other.â
translation: i canât understand: how did it end?
-
lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.
he canât help himself where youâre concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.
god, why do you look fine?
he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.
âheâs a wonderful person.â
your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if heâs oh-so-wonderful, why arenât you here? why isnât he there with you, waiting backstage? why canât you just hate him? why canât he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.
he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant womanâs throat. doesnât ask her name. letâs her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he canât fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after heâs pulled out. heâs sure sheâs lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.
lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesnât go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where itâs quiet and thereâs no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.
he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.
the deflation of our dreaming
leaving me bereft and reeling
my beloved ghost and me
sitting in a tree
d-y-i-n-g
-
your stylist is plying you with options.
you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-
you drown her out. you donât give a fuck. not a single one.
what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.
visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.
you leave the fitting not entirely sure what youâre wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.
when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows youâre coming. when youâre getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.
iâll try and keep my distance.
try.
try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. donât try too hard, you want to respond. you donât.
shouldâve told you iâd be here you shoot back.
you think i didnât already know?
of course he knew. heâd probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.
-
there are no two ways about it: youâre drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.
youâre shaking your ass in jimmyâz, pretending to have fun when you see him.
lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that heâs the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.
depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.
âthought you quit that shit.â his voice washes over your body like youâve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.
âi did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.â you shrug.
âforced?â
ââm here for work.â you sigh.
âi guess i am too.â he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.
âyou live here, lan.â you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.
âdoesnât feel like it anymore.â
how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he canât, you donât deserve it.
âhow are you?â
you want to touch him.
âshit.â
he needs a taste.
âyeah.â
you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.
you stand there, stare at each other.
take me home, you want to beg.
come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how youâll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.
âgood luck, if i donât see you.â you whisper. you linger, praying that heâll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.
lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.
logic wins, unfortunately.
âthank you.â
you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.
-
itâs raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.
youâve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so youâd suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what youâre complaining about.
you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and itâs just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks itâs a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?
you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. itâs something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.
the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.
ânorris has this in the bag, heâs bloody good in the wet.â you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.
he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.
you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like heâs scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - youâre there for him, after all - and he canât help but bask in that little fact.
dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.
-
say it once again with feelingâŠ
the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.
the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.
he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.
youâre within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like heâs a life force. he inhales you, your scent that heâs missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.
âi canât do this, i canât.â he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.
âno, neither can i.â you choke wetly with emotion.
âmiss you too much. itâs too hard, itâs stupid, itâs-â
âwrong. itâs wrong. âm sorry.â your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that heâd lost four months ago.
he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.
âi donât think, no, i know: iâm never gonna love anyone the way i love you.â lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.
âi donât want to love anyone else.â you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.
âcome back to me.â he mutters, pleading.
âdonât think i ever left.â you breathe, hushed.
your lips slot over his easily, itâs like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.
lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!
you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.
âwait for me at home. iâll be quick.â his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.
home.
yeah, home.
âdonât make me wait.â you grin.
his brain short circuits.
âdo you still have your key?â he splutters, refocusing.
you scoff. ânever took it off the chain.â
-
you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasnât changed, but itâs messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. heâll be back soon, and heâll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that youâre home and that itâd be stupid to leave again.
youâre still damp from the rain, shedding layers until youâre left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.
he hasnât taken down the pictures of you together. he hasnât moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasnât changed the blinds that you chose, but he didnât really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy heâd won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and itâs chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.
the front door opens behind you.
you donât move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.
âkept it. knew that one day, youâd come back for it.â
âi came back for you.â
âand that necklace will stay with you when i canât be there.â
you nod. he kisses your neck.
âmissed you so bad.â you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.
you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.
-
shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then youâre both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.
âmissed you. missed this.â
âdo something, lan.â you cry, quiet against his shoulder.
âmissed my perfect girl.â he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.
âplease.â you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.
he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then heâs sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you donât have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.
âno, let me look at you.â lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. âwhy are you hiding?â
you canât hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.
âgone shy on me, baby? whereâs my good girl gone?â lando coos, moving so that heâs leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. ââs because you havenât been fucked right in so long, hm? canât remember how to behave?â heâs smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.
âneed it, need-â you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.
âwords, pretty girl, words.â lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.
âneed to cum, want you to make meâŠâ you trail off.
âwas that so hard?â he tuts, and everything speeds up.
the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.
your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.
âthereâs my girl.â lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.
you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.
âfuck me.â you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.
ânot so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.â lando shudders, shifting between your legs.
you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.
âfuck, baby.â he breathes, sinking into you slowly. âfeel like heaven.â disbelief coats his voice, like he canât reconcile that this is real; youâre back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.
âitâs so good. feel so good for me, lan.â you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.
âlove you so much.â he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.
âcanât believe i lived without this.â
âcanât believe youâre all mine.â
the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.
ânever losing you again. canât live without you. my beautiful girl.â
your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. youâd follow him anywhere, you decide.
you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. heâs panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.
home.
âpromise me something.â he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.
âhm?â
âdonât leave again. you belong here, too. with me.â
your eyes are watery.
âiâm staying. âm yours.â
âabout thatâŠâ
lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.
you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then heâs back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.
âsit up.â
you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.
âback where it belongs.â lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.
you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.
âthe sweetest boy.â you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.
âbath?â
âyou know me so well, noz.â
come one, come all
itâs happening again
-
oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me
-
taglist
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because this should be spread everywhere whether you are a fan of Lando or no, no one deserves hate, and they especially don't deserve hate when all they are trying to do is achieve the one thing they have been working so hard for.
Hello.
I want you to listen. Donât scroll away because of the buzz word âLandoâ.
Listen.
This has gone beyond hate for Lando. This about all the drivers.
This is about treating drivers respectfully. This is about your parasocial relationships with the drivers. This is about you reading into everything they say.
This is about the F1 media taking clips out of context because they donât want a race they want a drama.
This is about you taking those clips and not bothering to find the original source, and taking it to fuel a hatred for someone you donât know.
This is about you hating on a new driver because you miss the old one.
This is about you sending hate to fans of a driver you donât like.
When I dislike something I scroll- I ignore, because itâs not worth my time. Why should I let the social media algorithm think I like the video because I watch it? I block a person I dislike. I donât go onto their account and spend time out of my life to comment.
But unfortunately the amount of hate Iâm seeing itâs getting hard to ignore it.
Haters and fans. Opposite end of the spectrum, still on the same spectrum.
Youâre still thinking about the guy you supposedly hate. You talk about him under other driver related posts, you make it your entire personality.
You make it toxic.
The difference in drivers is what makes the sport fun. Iâm friends with people who have other favourite drivers. What we do is we talk about the race. We talk about how their driver did really well and what mine couldâve done better. We have fun.
Because itâs the sport that bonds us.
I donât send death threats to them. People have become so obsessed with other peoples lives and it shows.
A driver canât say he feels lonely without getting jumped on for it. A driver gets asked his opinion after a high adrenaline race, one he feels he didnât do well and he sounds a little bitter. Of course heâs going to. Yet you read into it.
He celebrates and you read into it.
And then dislike them when they decide not to do anything anymore.
You criticise them for the mistakes theyâve already owned up to and refuse to even acknowledge the good theyâve achieved.
New fans get scared to join because they worry everyone will hate them. Which kills the sport in turn.
Lando. Max. Every single driver on the grid do not know you. And you do not know them. You know of them. You do not know them.
You do not know what they do or who they are the moment theyâre away from the cameras.
You do not need to like a driver. Nor do you need to dislike them. I donât dislike drivers, I just have drivers I favour a bit more than others. Because why would I hate them?
I dislike some of the things they do- during the race. Of course. Iâm bitter after a race doesnât go well. Iâm a fan of the sport.
But thatâs as far as it goes.
I do not care for their personal life as itâs theirs, nor do I care for what minuscule thing theyâve done.
If you donât feel called out, then good- Iâm not talking about you. Youâre the good ones. If you are feeling âattackedâ then perhaps itâs time to rethink what you want to spend limited time, that is your life, on.
We only have so many minutes in our lives to actually live. So live it. Donât spend it on hating on others.
Good day/night. đ
RIDICULOUS â L.N
in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldnât be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.
warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint
lando was infatuated the moment he met you.
it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.
his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.
he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.
carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.
heâd jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.
you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldnât help but pity and adore.
he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personalityâs you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him â as did you.
since joining ferarri you didnât see the brit as much as youâd like, not that carlosâ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didnât feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.
but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you werenât oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.
his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didnât think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.
he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.
âhe begged me to invite you tonight,â carlosâ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadnât caught up with in a while.
melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.
landoâs eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence â not giving you a chance to speak.
âi was making sure you hadnât forgotten anyone, y/n included.â lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.
âiâd like to think my presence would be a given,â you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.
âof course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure youâd be here.â carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasnât attempting to stir the pot.
âhe misses you,â an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.
âmhm, misses me. not carlos.â you grinned; practically bragged â nudging carlos this time; youâd grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.
heâd nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didnât seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldnât be any closer to the truth.
âif you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,â carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea â oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.
lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. whatâs so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.
he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.
âwouldnât want to hurt your feelings, know you donât like to be left out.â lando mused; earning another laugh from you â one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.
âoh iâd be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.â carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way landoâs smile fell and jaw tensed â quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.
your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlosâ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash â completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasnât much to defend.
because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.
âhow much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?â you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.
âitâs just a joke?â heâd asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasnât on carlosâ side of the garage, always working on landoâs side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.
âobviously.â you spoke as if it wasâŠobvious, and the laugh you let out wouldâve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.
âah, ah, ah. donât forget about silverstone.â carlos simply couldnât keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.
which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadnât. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didnât even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that âlandoâs wish had finally come true.â
âdonât be ridiculous.â you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. landoâs silence wouldâve been deafening if others werenât jumping in to speak, and maybe you wouldâve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.
he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.
âitâs not ridiculous.â carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasnât ridiculous, he didnât think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.
âit is.â the nail in the coffin, lando couldnât keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadnât left your face. âcome on now,â you added in exaggeration at carlosâ unconvinced face.
lando wasnât sure what you said next, he didnât want to hear it. he couldnât figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself â something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.
the abrupt departure didnât halt anyone elseâs movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on landoâs full glass ahead of you.
he didnât need another drink.
you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.
it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldnât figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.
âiâll be back,â you excused yourself, standing up and following in landoâs directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.
you werenât sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.
ârude to not offer a girl a drink you know?â
landoâs eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.
he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.
âapologises,â he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.
âyou good?â you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.
you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.
âpeachy.â his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasnât laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive â and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.
âdid i say somethingâ did carlos say something?â the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. âiâve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, itâs stupid i know.â you began to ramble.
lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadnât said anything.
but you had.
âitâs not the jokes,â lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.
he couldnât. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.
you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression heâd keep speaking. but he didnât. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.
âno?â you hummed; eyebrows raising. âbecause i totally get if it is. itâs ridiculous how they keep going onââ you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.
so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.
there was that word again; ridiculous.
âis it? is it really that ridiculous?â lando couldnât stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.
it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.
âis what?â you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.
but lando had nothing else to lose, youâve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. whatâs once more?
âus. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?â lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.
because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times heâs almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.
maybe if he had youâd see what he saw.
silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than heâd like to admit. he couldâve sworn youâd been flirting with him that night.
he even thought it wouldâve been the start of something.
optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe youâd reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.
but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?
âwhat?â it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.
lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.
âitâs notâ weâve neverâ i mean it would be weird.â word vomit, you didnât know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence youâd be haunted by that very sentence. ânot weirdâ but,â you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.
another laugh from him beat you to it however.
âridiculous. i got it,â lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.
you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what heâd just told you. you hadnât ever looked at him in that way. he was always just⊠lando.
âlandoâŠâ you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.
the awkward tension was growing quickly and youâd never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.
âitâs fine. just drop it.â lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didnât want you to feel bad, heâd accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.
you canât apologise for how you feel.
âno we should talk about it,â you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didnât need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how heâd spent years pining over you.
heâd kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.
âiâll pass,â lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. âiâm gonna head up,â he cleared his throat.
youâd gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.
it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.
youâve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet youâd spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.
you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.
an insight into his intentions for the effort heâd put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadnât assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.
youâd be lying if you didnât have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didnât feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.
suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didnât make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.
you didnât want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.
not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon â claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.
thereâs no way you felt the same. surely not.
you had to stand by what you said. itâd be weird?
he was lando. annoying lando who couldnât grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.
except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. youâd both changed. lando had changed.
you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.
you suddenly felt insane. youâd never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, oneâs you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrariâs hospitality.
you could only hide for so long, carlos had won â which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.
work was your priority however, but you couldnât help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldnât help but note how lando was practically glowing.
your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.
you couldnât exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldnât be in attendance.
but he was, and your eyes hadnât left him all night.
still having not spoken for days, you couldnât shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didnât trust yourself. fearing youâd say something youâd regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.
ïżŒhowever you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.
it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadnât locked eyes with you there was a high chance you wouldâve backed out. turned around and walked away.
instead you were left to improvise.
âgood job today,â you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.
lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. heâd put it on the podium, why wouldnât he be in a good mood?
âthank you,â the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.
your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?
âimpressive from carlos,â lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact heâd saved you from creating an awkward silence.
âyeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. iâll never complain about pain again.â you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.
to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.
âlook i just wantedââ you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to landoâs side, handing him a drink while doing so.
it shouldnât have shut you up so quickly, but it did â eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one youâd never seen before actually.
âline was long,â the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught landoâs sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.
he would be lying if he said he didnât appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde heâd just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.
âiâll um, iâll talk to you later.â there was no way youâd try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, youâd hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.
instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.
embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.
apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didnât. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.
it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, thatâs what you gathered at least, and youâd been unaware for years.
youâd been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.
although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl whoâd placed the drink in his hands.
it suddenly made sense why you hadnât seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.
which you couldnât help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.
you didnât want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.
were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you werenât sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago youâd laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.
what was it they said about you only want what you canât have?
âit should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after iâve won.â carlosâ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.
âiâm not moping.â you huffed, leaning back in your seat â attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.
âyou have been all week.â carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.
âiâm sorryâ thatâs the last thing you need with the couple weeks youâve had,â you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldnât do anything right.
you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.
âdonât apologise.â carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. âiâm assuming lando said something.â
there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.
you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.
âyou knew?â you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.
âeveryone does.â carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time youâve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.
âwhy wouldnât you tell me?â you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.
âi thought you knew.â carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldnât question him â nor blame him. you shouldnât have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, youâre not sure what you wouldâve done if you did know.
because it wasnât like you were handling the current situation very well.
you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you shouldâve never chased him to the bar.
âheâll be fine. look at him, moving on already,â carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach â because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasnât what you wanted.
you didnât want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.
âi need air.â you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.
the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourneâs night life filled your ears.
it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.
but with every passing second you didnât find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldnât want him. you havenât wanted him before. it isnât fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.
but it was the reality. youâd been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasnât weird. it sounded fucking incredible.
the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasnât till they spoke that you tensed up.
âitâs cold out here,â his voice was instantly recognisable, you didnât need to look at him to know it was him.
âtoo hot in there.â you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.
falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace youâd known all week.
âwe can pretend the other night never happened. i donât want things to be weird.â lando spoke, words so soft as if youâd break. as if he needed to be careful with you.
his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldnât be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.
you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. itâs all you needed to do.
but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.
âif thatâs what you want,â you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldnât find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.
it was landoâs turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.
âi just want to know why itâs so ridiculous to you.â lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldnât say it ever if he didnât now. itâd been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.
and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didnât have one.
âi donât know.â you answered truthfully. âi never looked at you that way lando iâŠâ you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. âyou were like this little kid, i donât know,â you struggled to articulate your thoughts.
âyeah five years ago,â landoâs response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didnât lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if heâd been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.
youâd gulped at his words, because he was right and youâd only come to terms with such thing these past few days.
âyeah.â you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. youâd been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldnât dare look away from his eyes.
you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.
he recognised the look on your face, purely because itâs how he would always look at you.
âit fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.â lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didnât need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter youâd be worried you wouldnât hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.
you didnât know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame â and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.
âmâ sorry,â you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didnât want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.
it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.
you didnât know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.
the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.
but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldnât risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.
âif you donâtââ lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.
thankfully however you didnât give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you â reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.
it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants â hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.
it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?
your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life â large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.
so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.
naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.
suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.
heaven was the only way to describe it.
but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.
your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you werenât sure the pair of you were even noticed.
landoâs grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.
âwe should get out of here,â you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.
the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.
the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi â kissing him was addictive, thatâs the only thing you could think of right now.
the silence wasnât awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.
it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again â lips once more reconnected.
the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.
you werenât even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.
but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent â all senses consumed with the man in front of you.
you werenât sure which wall heâd backed you against but you didnât care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more â taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.
he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.
âwhat do you want?â landoâs question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.
you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.
him. just him. anything he had to offer.
the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.
the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance â yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.
âanything.â you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadnât realised how desperate you sounded. you werenât sure youâve ever sounded so needy.
âgotta be more specific pretty,â his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.
the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasnât natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.
âwant me to touch you?â lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him â and the mere act had you falling further into submission.
it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing â standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; heâd barely touched you yet.
âwhat do you want?â your words were no where near as confident as his, but you werenât complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.
you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
âwant to ruin you so youâll only ever think of me if another man touches you.â lando was honest with his answer, you hadnât expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak â the idea sounding perfect to you.
but he wasnât finished.
âwant you to cum on my fingers.â he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. âthen my tongue,â he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.
thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.
âthen my cock.â he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.
attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.
âhm?â his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.
âplease,â you practically whimpered, god youâd get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.
the man couldnât believe his eyes, a sight heâd dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.
his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.
light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours â but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.
you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan â hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldnât give out on you.
lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut â head falling back against the wall.
âyouâre soaked baby,â his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.
âfor you,â you breathed out â not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.
for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasnât so focused on getting you off heâd be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.
suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing landoâs pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.
his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again â nothing would compare to that.
âlook at me.â landoâs demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldnât act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.
landoâs breathy laugh wasnât enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.
his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.
the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.
it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly â eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.
âclose,â was all you managed out; landoâs nod was in sync with his curled fingers â your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.
you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.
âlet go baby,â his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.
lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldnât fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised heâd been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends â and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.
admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.
âyouâre incredible,â lando couldnât stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.
however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it â not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.
âyou are.â you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle â sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.
your legs already felt like jelly.
heâd read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs â halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.
your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.
messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.
the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed â you quickly felt overdressed.
your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.
you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.
he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.
âyouâre fucking beautiful.â heâd practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.
âwant to make you feel good,â you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip â the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.
heâd shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing â left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.
âi feel amazing,â lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking â your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.
he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache â offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.
he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties â having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.
âlando,â youâd whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. âplease,â the plea left you in desperation.
you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.
âoh baby,â he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. âneedy little thing,â he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldnât argue, only pout.
he wasnât wrong, much to your surprise. youâd never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.
ânot gonna make you beg,â lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.
you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly â hands flying to find his curls again.
pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head â body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.
your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.
he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses â tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.
you werenât ever sure youâd be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out â pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.
you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs â watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.
his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.
you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more â seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.
it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didnât take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.
âyou good?â landoâs voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.
âperfect,â you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way landoâs hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.
you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now â it didnât take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.
climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.
lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief heâd been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.
he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.
fuck you could get used to that image.
âcome on baby,â lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips â guiding them upwards ever so slightly. âfuck yourself on my cock yeah?â there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.
your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.
the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.
you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size â and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.
âyou feel fucking incredible,â the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.
âso big,â you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving â eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.
the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasnât the first time between the pair of you.
your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, landoâs hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you â letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.
âfuck lando,â you whined when heâd bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling â the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.
âdoing so good for me gorgeous,â his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.
it wasnât long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didnât need to say anything â a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.
you hadnât thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didnât relent as he started fucking up into you.
you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldnât keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.
âfuck lando fuck,â you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldnât comprehend any of it.
âtake it baby.â he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if youâd ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin â his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldnât have time to feel every inch of him.
your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him â which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.
but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.
âopen your eyes princess,â he practically demanded, and at this point youâd do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.
his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing â but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.
âwhoâs making you feel this good?â landoâs question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.
âyou, lando, you,â you whined out in response â and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. âfeels so good,â you told him â squeezing him as you did so.
heâd groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didnât, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.
âwant to cum again yeah? that you want?â his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.
his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.
âwanna hear you say it,â lando grumbled â head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention heâd paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.
you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as heâd like â so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.
âtoo fucked out to form words baby?â lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. âwant to hear you say it.â he repeated, eyes piercing yours.
âwannaâ cum again,â your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. âplease let me cum,â
the british driverâs hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear youâd done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.
your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick â practically screaming his name as you did so.
lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more â only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.
you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.
his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.
both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.
you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.
he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a âwhat now.â
this meant a lot to him, he wouldnât put that on you â that wouldnât be fair. but you already had a good idea.
âi was wrong.â you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.
he didnât fully understand.
âabout this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.â you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you â shaking his head quickly.
âwe donât have to talk about it right now,â he assured in certainty. he didnât want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.
which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful â which shouldnât be a surprise.
âiâm not promising anything,â you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didnât feel obligated at all. you werenât saying youâd be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. âbut i was wrong.â you hummed.
a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.
one you could certainly get used too.
ââ
a/n: 615 days later and iâve finally finished another fic. hope yâall r still there đđ
incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u
anyways i donât love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping itâll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that itâs a little rusty đ«¶đŒđ«¶đŒ
what hasnât changed is that itâs currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe
as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo
You think you're the painter, but you're actually just the canvas
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