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pain has gotten worse so will try morphine tomorrow - means I'll definitely not update today or tomorrow, sorry everyone! 😔😔

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omg i hope you're feel better soon!! sending you good vibes queen✨️

thank youuuuuu 😘😘😘😘

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hi queen do you think you'll be able to update tomorrow before the race or after? 🫡 thank u for ur service either way

hiiiii oof we will have to see - i have unfortunately injured my back and am on some pretty strong meds so I'm not the quickest or the sharpest at the moment 😔

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... did you accidentally manifest the Tsitsidosa breakup by writing about a Carlos x yn tennis power couple breaking up? 🧐 life is imitating your art 🤭

hahahaha well tbh I feel like most tennis couples don't last - there aren't that many who both are on tour at the same time and make it work. But Paula motioning to Stefanos that he should play if he knows better after he said she needed to "calm down" from the stands is an iconic moment 😬

I think the only ones are either retired (Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf) or one of them took a step back (Roger & Mirka Federer), and then there is the exception: Elina Svitolina and Gael Monfils.

All that to say, it's easy for life to imitate art here 😜

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listen lando has a lot of explaining to do and he better do it fast or im starting a petition for our girl to block him (corneliastreet will sign it🙏)

🤐🤐🤐🤐 corneliastreet is 100% a yn girlie

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Help lando and y/n are so snow on the beach coded

omg you know what you're so right - i never clocked that myself but i just had a look at what Taylor has said about SOTB and this definitely applies to where we are headed with won't say I'm in love:

"The song is about falling in love with someone at the same time as they’re falling in love with you, in this sort of in this cataclysmic, faded moment where you realize someone feels exactly the same way that you feel, at the same moment."

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YOU'RE BACK YAY!!! also what's an els... i've never heard of that in my life, is it a tennis thing? also instagram user "corneliastreet" is incredibly real and valid. also free our girl from having to experience shitty emotions😭

I am!!! My job has just been very demanding the past few weeks + this is the birth month of like every family member I have hahahaha so trying to find pockets of time to work on this has been difficult.

Omg okay so the ELS is the electronic line system - it's essentially an elaborate sensor system on the court that is meant to signal whether a ball is in or out, or if someone is making a foot fault while serving for example. They were introduced a few years ago to support line judges and the umpire, because it can sometimes be hard to see. Especially on hard courts where there is no chalk (grass) or gravel (clay) that shows where the ball may have landed. Maybe you've seen the "hawkeye" before? Tennis players were given 3 challenges, if they felt a line judge or umpire made the wrong call, to then make use of the Hawkeye to check and challenge the call. If they were correct, they would not lose the challenge and still have 3 remaining. If the hawkeye showed that the player was incorrect, they'd lose one of their three challenges.

Nowadays, the electronic line system has been implemented across all major tournaments (except a few here and there). There are two downsides to it in my mind - one is that it creates the idea that ELS is infallible. That isn't true, there have been multiple instances over the past years where the ELS was wrong but couldn't be overruled. Where players took photos on their phones just to prove where the ball had landed, but it didn't matter. Line judges aren't always correct either of course, but at least those could be challenged then by supporting technology. Now it's just technology, end of conversation. And that's also related to my second point. Like y/n says, it takes the humanity and heart out of tennis. There is something thrilling about the fact that sometimes a call may be in your favor and sometimes it won't be - but that's part of the experience. And most of all, it allows so many more people to be actively involved in tennis even when they're not the ones who are playing. They are still essential staff, who are integral to the sport, and also it gives them more job opportunities and pathways into becoming an umpire.

Anyways long story short, yes ELS is a tennis thing but it is very similar to the introduction of VAR in football (video-assisted referee).

And omg lol corneliastreet user is a real one for sure, but it's also good to see how when faced with a similar scenario, y/n is going to respond maybe differently now than she would have months ago... hopefully of course 🙃🫠

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Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - part xx

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader; past carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

series: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi, part vii. part viii, part ix, part x, part xi, part xii, part xiii, part xiv, part xv, part xvi, part xvii, xviii, xix, tbd.

bonus: one, two, three, four, five, six

a/n: it's race week!!!

1st week of August, 2025

[Excerpt: Transcript of Tennis Central Interview]

"Like many players, you skipped the Toronto tour, meaning that this is your one chance to prepare for the US Open. Do you feel like that's enough?"

Y/N shrugs. "I mean, there was little else I could do except for skip my own sister's wedding, and that was a definite no-go. So it's just going to have to be enough."

"I'm only asking because your track record here isn't the best, with last year's second round exit being a bit of a low point, correct?"

Y/N shuffles uncomfortably in her seat, but doesn't deny it. "I mean, yes. There's always an element of having to sort of code switch from grass to indoor hard court again, but last year it was mostly just a lot of personal issues that unfortunately affected my ability to focus on the matches in the way they needed me to. Shouldn't be a problem this year, though. I'd love to be able to redeem myself a bit here."

"We can't wait to see you progress. Who would you love to see in the finals, for both men and women's singles?"

"I mean, obviously myself for the Women's singles - no preference for my opponent. It'd be great to play Coco, but I also would like to play Aryna here. She's the defending champ, so that'd be nice. For the Men's, I mean I'd like to see maybe a Jannik Sinner versus Jack Draper final. That could be interesting and entertaining to watch."

[Excerpt: Transcript of YouTube video "Tennis Stars Play Never Have I Ever..."]

“Never Have I Ever… wanted to be on a reality TV show”

Y/N snorts and puts the "I have never" sign up. “I’ve never wanted to, but I have been if we can call Drive to Survive or Break Point that. Immediately confirmed I would hate that to be my life 24/7.”

“Never Have I Ever… missed a flight”

Y/N raises the “I have” sign. “Not because of me. My flight got delayed and then I missed my layover. Not ideal.”

“Never Have I Ever… gone sleepwalking?”

A snort escapes you, before shaking your head vigorously. “Pretty sure I’ve never done that. Seems scary!”

“Never Have I Ever… been to someone who's currently on the tour's house for dinner?”

You nod, holding up the “I have” sign. “I mean, yeah,” you shrug. “Who?” Someone asks from behind the camera. “Uh. Well. Carlos, obviously. But also Coco, and some of the other girls. Elena's a great cook.”

“Never Have I Ever… Googled myself”

“Oh yes,” you immediately confess. “And I really shouldn’t have.” “What did you find?” “Just – my Wikipedia page, which is fine of course. But then also a lot of fake news, which can go from mildly entertaining to disturbing real quick. ”

“Never Have I Ever…. Slid into someone’s DMs”

“No, but people have slipped into mine for sure,” you grin. "Would you like to slide into someone's DMs?" It makes you pause. "Not particularly, but if I had to, it'd still be Sebastian Stan.”

“Never Have I Ever.. Been Told I Snore”

“Yes, unfortunately. My sister used to complain about it all the time when we were younger and had to share a room. I kinda thought I didn’t do it anymore, but then recently I was informed by a very trusted source that I still do snore. In a cute way, of course," you wink.

“Never Have I Ever… Ghosted Someone”

“I have, for sure. I think I ghosted Jack last week even, when he asked about my travel itinerary. Sorry Jack.”

2nd week of August, 2025

[Excerpt: Transcript of Exit Press Conference Y/N L/N]

"Hi Y/N. I'm with BBC Sport, can you walk us through the moment where the Electronic Line System malfunctioned. What went through your head, and how did you try to get back into the match afterwards?"

You sigh, pursing your mouth. "It was very obvious that the ball was out. Like, anyone with eyes could see that it was out. Yet somehow the system did not register it as such. I really dislike the fact that we've now become slaves to the system in a way. I can't challenge the decision, or at least - the umpire did not allow for me to do so. It was a crucial break point. It would've opened up the game again for me. In those moments, you just want to be taken seriously by the staff. I did not feel like that in the moment. That frustration stuck with me for the rest of the set and I couldn't channel it into anything productive."

"Tennis TV here. Following up on that, do you feel like it'd be better to just have line judges then?"

"Well. It'd be nice to just have the line judges back, if only to provide more opportunities for staff to be involved and gain experience at major events. Sports should be about inclusion, right? So that also means not just playing the sport, but also all the other roles that help us play it. I'm fine with the ELS as a back-up for challenges. But having just the ELS takes the humanity out of the sport."

"Evening Y/N, first of all - sorry that you're out of the tournament. I'm with ESPN. We were wondering how you now look at your chances for the US Open later this month?"

"It's still weeks away. I have time to practice. Clearly I need it. I don't know, to be honest. The US Open has always been a difficult tournament for me. Don't really know why, which is why it's hard to figure out what I should work on then to fix it, you know? But I don't think that my performance today is representative of my level currently. I was shit today. So my chances will depend on whether or not I'm able to not be shit that day."

"Hi Y/N, Daily Mail Sport here. Can you pinpoint why you were - in your own words - 'shit' today? Was that a lack of preparation, or mentality?"

"Pwoah. I'm just fresh off the court. My team and I will definitely reflect together, so I can't say right now. It will most likely honestly be a combination of both. The physical and mental need to be in the sweet spot, and it can be hard to find then consistently strike the right balance. But it's just disappointing when things don't come together. I don't play just for me. It's also everyone around me who work so hard to help me achieve my wins. I don't like disappointing them like I did today."

a/n: our girly is having an epiphany about what she does and doesn't care about, or better yet - who :) :) and as she figures out where her heart and head align, we're also getting closer to the end of this fic...

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012 @sadiemack9 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @its-elias-world @sarah-thatstings-ann @jessicanotta @fairyjinn @destinyg237 @verogonewild @annimausi @taetae-armyyyyy @jkoooooooookie @coral7161 @chezmardybum @guacala @m4rt10ne @gigigreens @that-dress

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Stop i saw that comment and literally ran to tumblr because I wanted to tell you about it 🤣🤣 please tell me how yn would respond to this i need to know!! Also thank u for the update love u 💓

hahahaha I love that so much 😘 love when people send me asks about the fic or just to tell me that something made them think of the story.

As for that comment and like, she'd probably secretly find it really funny and support Lando in his pettiness. But also knows that she shouldn't encourage it, so would say "omg can you not, just when Carlos and I are sort of trying to be normal around one another" then wink at him and giggle.

Also -- yn doing the traditional dance with Jannik at the winner's gala and Lando volunteeribg to practice plus being lowkey jealous but responding to Janniks posts about it is his way of making sure Jannik knows he exists. He can't say my woman because yn isn't his woman (yet), but Jannik better be conscious that Lando is watching him 🤨 it is a my mann (no Carlitos) and a my mann (intimidating)

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i hope you're feeling better!!!

thank uuuu I am feeling better 🥰🥰 it's very unfortunate that I just have really heavy periods with no conclusive evidence of having pcos or endometriosis (or whatever else) so it also can't be treated beyond iron supplements and accepting that I'm out of commission if it gets bad :(

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This is so funny for my WSIIL Lando

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Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - part xix

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader; past carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

series: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi, part vii. part viii, part ix, part x, part xi, part xii, part xiii, part xiv, part xv, part xvi, part xvii, xviii, tbd.

bonus: one, two, three, four, five, six

a/n: your girl had another big bad anemia-induced migraine, sorry for the delay!

July 28-29, 2025

July 30-31, 2025

August 1-3, 2025

a/n: LANDO WON SILVERSTONE! Earned himself a scar as he did it, had to reference it here :) now let's see how y/n & lando do when they *still* haven't defined the relationship, but are definitely dating and in two separate places...

next part is available here

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012 @sadiemack9 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @its-elias-world @sarah-thatstings-ann @jessicanotta @fairyjinn @destinyg237 @verogonewild @annimausi @taetae-armyyyyy @jkoooooooookie @coral7161 @chezmardybum @guacala @m4rt10ne @gigigreens

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LIGHTS OUT...

PARC FERMÉ is a network that aspires to promote Formula One (F1) writers. Writers are encouraged to submit their published work; readers are encouraged to peruse our catalogue and support writers by liking, reblogging, and commenting. And away we go!

➤ SUBMISSION GUIDELINES. ➤ FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS. ➤ CATALOGUE. ➤ SUBMIT YOUR WORK.

EST. 2025. This blog is being maintained by user @tsunodaradio.

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QUEEN WAKE UP CHRISTIAN HORNER GOT FIRED

Oh my god??? Satan is gone???

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omg I'm not the anon who asked for a prophecy update but I want it so badly too 🥺🥺 they're so cute I want to know how they're doing

hiiii :)

there's just a few more chapters of WSIIL to go, and then I will publish this! I have been working on it a little bit here and there 😁

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this girl is so funny omg she has lando in the trenches😭😭😭

she really does! but things are changing 👀 maybe he will have her in the trenches next 🤪

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Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - bonus part four

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader; past carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers, tbd

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons or events

series: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi, part vii. part viii, part ix, part x, part xi, part xii, part xiii, part xiv, part xv, part xvi, part xvii, xviii, tbd.

bonus: one, two, three, five, six

author's note: This is a bonus part, and not a regular update - i.e. no images, just text! Hoping to have the next chapter out before the race on Sunday.

July 20, 2025: Èze, France

Loud applause briefly startles Lando, reminding him of where and when he is – your sister’s wedding. He withdraws his hand from the back of your seat to join in on clapping as one of Victoria’s friends finishes up her speech.

He should probably feel like a fraud, sitting at the family table with the newly wedded couple just three seats down from him.

The troubling truth is that he doesn’t feel like one. Not even a little bit. Instead, he feels almost guilty over how normal it is - like he belongs right here, next to you as you immediately dig into the main course once it’s served.

“Oh my god, this is so good,” you gush in between bites, motioning for Lando to eat as well. “Can you believe that we’re already halfway through dinner and speeches? And that my sister’s actually married now?”

Lando wipes his hands for the hundredth time that day on his suit, before he picks up his cutlery and hums. They’re still a little clammy – the one telltale sign that he is, in fact, not alright. Because it’s not due to a sweltering summer night out here in Èze. Neither is it a result from exertion, from having driven his car around a track for ages wearing fireproof gloves.

No, his hands are sweaty, because he’s been desperately trying to keep himself in check all day and not get lost in the fantasy of it all. Of being here as your partner, of being more than just a convenient plus one.  

If he’s being honest, he’s failing. Has been failing probably since Montréal. Even more so since Silverstone. One kiss could’ve been an accident, a lapse of judgment – something in the heat of the moment. Not that it was like that for him in Canada, though. If anything, it had felt inevitable.

Which is why your reaction had hurt, despite having known you well enough to have somewhat seen it coming. So he’d gotten his armour back on, told himself that things were fine the way they were, he just needed some distance.

So what you’d dented your friendship, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be undone. It would be nothing but a small blip or blemish, and Lando would either be patient enough to see you change your mind, or to get over it himself.  Except then the Silverstone win had made him feel invincible and he’d blurred the line he’d drawn himself all over again.

There’s this tension now that lives between the two of you. Perhaps it had always been there, neatly situated in the blind spots of your friendship. Visible for everyone else, but you and him. But now he can’t unsee it. Can’t unfeel the erratic way in which his heart drums in his chest every time he’s close to you. Can’t undo the press of his lips against yours and the way in which the memory of it is seared into his brain. Can’t unhear the sweetest of giggles turned moans when he’d sucked on your skin. Can’t unread your texts asking him to come to you. And Lando knows himself well enough to know that it’s not just lust, or desire that’s making him slowly lose his mind, unravelling in real time.

It’s the fact that it’s you. Someone who's seen all of him. The person that’s seen him snort chocolate milk out his nose, who’s accidentally hit him in the balls with a golf club, who sings horribly off-key at karaoke. The person who cheers him on even when he loses, who gifted him a Valentino Rossi mug without knowing who he was but knowing Lando cared, who trains with such devotion and dedication – who is just so much cooler than he is in every single way, yet chooses to hang out with him and decorate cupcakes with together off-season.

And that’s what makes it so much worse. Because he’s already had the privilege of knowing you, and it’s still not enough. Never will be enough, he fears. He craves you all the time. Even when he’s seated right next to you, all he wants is to be closer. To walk his fingers up your spine and down your arm, put his hand on your thigh like it means something decidedly not casual or friendly. To kiss your shoulder, just because he can.

He’s acutely aware of how your knees knock together under the table every once in a while tonight. How you’d hung onto his arm yesterday, and had allowed his hand to linger on your lap in the car. How your great aunt had assumed you’d been dating, and you’d immediately tried to correct her. How you avoid talking about what it is you’re actually doing and what it means – but still end up seeking Lando out, pushing the boundaries each time.

He smiles when you send him a cheeky wink, and it’s perhaps a bit too easy for him to pretend it means something. Almost as easy as it is to pretend the flowers he continues to send you mean nothing at all. It is reckless and greedy, but part of him wants to just take whatever you’ll give. Even if it ends up permanently scarring your friendship and his heart. So, here he sits on the family table as your best friend, pretending that he doesn’t feel both butterflies and dread churn in his stomach whenever he looks at you.   

Lando refuses to acknowledge Carlos’ eyebrow wiggles from across the garden. You’ve disappeared back inside, something about a wardrobe change. Lando hadn’t been paying attention, had been focused instead on how you’d reached out to squeeze his hand. He’s saved from an eagerly and quickly approaching nosy Spaniard by your now official brother in law, who asks Lando for tips on how to properly pop the champagne.

The first bottle gets unceremoniously uncorked in the bushes, and Lando snaps a photo of the newlyweds laughing their heads off. There’s joy and happiness radiating off of them, and he snorts when Victoria squints her eyes in genuine laughter, just like you. He doesn’t get to share that observation until he finds you upstairs in the chateau, zipper of your evening dress still half undone and heels kicked into the corner like you forgot about them the moment you stepped into the room.

“I knew it was a fucking dumb idea to choose such a tight dress for the dance,” you complain as you flip your hair to one side. “Now I’m stuck in this and I missed Vic’s opening champagne shower.”

Lando swallows. He feels a little stupid at letting a part of him think you’d been lying about the new dress, that you’d just wanted to get him alone for a bit. “Do you like it?” The soft tone takes him by surprise, as if you’re genuinely not sure. The left corner of his lips curls up. “The other one gave me more access,” he teases, then steps forward as his hands ghost over the straps of the dress before following them down to the zipper. The low back had allowed him to inconspicuously ghost his fingers across your skin every time you'd leaned back a little in your chair.

You huff, and your eyes find his in the mirror. Mirth dances over your face, “maybe a bit too much access. If I’d do one champagne-induced pirouette, I’m pretty sure my left boob would be joining the party.”

His hands still on the small of your back, and he squeezes his eyes closed with a playful groan, dropping his chin on your shoulder. “Birdie, do you know how hard I’m trying to not look at your left boob right now?”

“Who said you’re not allowed to look? Or feel, or touch?”

The bold statement hangs in the air, filling the room with heated anticipation. For a brief moment, Lando is tempted to act on it as well. It feels like an I dare you, and he’s not one to back down from a challenge. Loves a good game and hates losing, after all. But before he can do as much, you blithely continue rambling as you motion towards the upper part of the dress you’re currently wearing. “This one’s got a corseted, structured body. It’s why I can’t properly zip it myself. Because apparently it’s the type of dress only people with partners wear. At least it'll keep my boobs firmly in place even when I tear up the dancefloor. So once you’ve zipped it close, you better have a good look and tell me if it looks nice.”

Right. A tiny spark of disappointment rushes down his spine. That’s why you’d asked him to come up here. Out of convenience.

It’s probably better like this anyways, Lando considers as he gently tugs on the zipper and ignores the drag of his fingers against soft skin. A new line to draw in the sand, the smallest of moats that he’s desperately dug around his own heart as a final attempt at self-preservation. No sex.

He looks over your shoulder in the mirror once he’s secured the zipper up top, then smiles appreciatively at the way the dress hugs you in all the right places. “Fuck,” he sighs. “You look hot. Beautiful.”

“Yeah?” You question, restless hands removing imaginary dust from the fabric before turning around to face him. “Danceable?”

You’re so close that he can faintly make out your freckles, and the way in which your lipstick has started to wear just a little. It’s distracting, and the question feels like a trap, but he willingly allows himself to fall for it anyways. One of his hands reaches out, caresses just underneath the curve of your breast. To test more than to tease. “Seems sturdy,” he murmurs, eyes stuck on newfound territory that Lando is apparently allowed to touch. “Might have to give it a good test run, though.”

You giggle, eyes glinting with mischief as you gently remove his hand from where it’d been caressing your body and step just out of reach. Lando pretends not to be disappointed. “Then lead the way, Mr. Norris.” The teasing lilt in your voice makes way for something lighter as you slip back into heels. “And you better be quick, because I’ve got a date with my sister on the dancefloor.”

Lando smirks. “Oh sweetheart, don’t tempt me. You know I’d leave you in the dust. Especially if you’re wearing those.”

He brings you a drink as peace offering when you’re still pretend sulking after having inevitably lost the race back to the party. Noone seems to have noticed that you’d briefly gone inside, but he supposes that it’s easy to slip away as the night goes on. Most people are either well on their way to being drunk, or distracted by the other guests dancing the night away.

Not Lando though, he's just distracted by you. The dress he’d helped you get into earlier looks absolutely stunning in the moonlight, as you dance with your friends and family. Strings of fairy lights are draped around the garden, and the disco balls make their reflections dance across your skin like the light just can't help but seek you out. He understands that tendency all too well.

You’re buzzed, he can tell by the way you get slightly more expressive and start to mime out the lyrics to songs you particularly like. Lando grins, more than content with observing quietly from the side as he converses with Carlos and other guests. But then your eyes meet his and your expression brightens immediately, crooking your finger at him.

He can’t resist. With heels, you tower over him a little when you're dancing this close, and Lando loves it more than he should. Like he does with everything and anyhing to do with you. It’s why he steadfastly ignores his head when his heart starts beating faster and faster, blood rushing south when you grind on him. There’s something equally exhilarating and unnerving about the fact that you don’t seem to care at all about your surroundings.

Except apparently there are some things you won’t do in the middle of the dancefloor, and that’s why he finds himself being led back into the chateau. “Wanted to do this so badly,” you pant as you nip at his neck, before slotting your lips against his.

He walks you back to the bed, then laughs into your hair as you pull him down with you onto the mattress. Lando swears his skin burns with every single touch of your hands, like liquid heat and sunshine coursing through his veins.

You unbutton his shirt as you place small kisses along his collarbone. “You smell so good,” you mutter, and Lando can’t think straight. He pulls at your chin, lifting it up a little so he can kiss you properly. Lick into your mouth while his other hand settles on your hipbone.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he responds when you eventually pull away for air, giving his bottom lip a little tug. He knows you can feel just how turned on he is from the way in which you try to roll your hips up, desperate for some friction.

A whine escapes your lips when Lando’s grip tightens, pinning you further down and effectively keeping you from moving. It’s a last-ditch effort in maintaining some semblance of control. Your chest rises and falls quickly, arousal clearly written across your face.

“Oh come on Lando, it’s just us.” It’s meant to egg him on, get him to do something – anything. Instead, it hits like a bucket of ice-cold water.

“Just us?” Lando lets out a frustrated noise, and all of a sudden he lifts himself off of your body. 

“Yeah, just us,” you repeat, and he can feel something sharp twist inside his chest. Oh, he thinks. So this is what it’s like when you break your own heart.

“This isn’t – I,” Lando pauses, one hand passing through his hair in frustration. “You make it sound so insignificant.”

You just frown, sitting up on your elbows so you can have a better look at him. Like you couldn’t possibly understand what he means. Lando can feel his heart sinking deeper into he moat he'd dug to protect himself.

“I can’t do this if it’s – if that’s what this is to you. Like it being ‘just us’ doesn’t make this a thousand times more monumental.”

“Monumental?” you repeat incredulously, and it hurts. Because he’d always just assumed that the fact your friendship was sacred didn’t need explanation to you. But maybe it does.  

“You’re my best friend, Y/N. I’m not going to risk that over something that means nothing to you.”

He starts buttoning up his shirt again, just to have something else to do. So he doesn’t have to witness how clueless you look, as if you still can’t quite wrap your head around what’s happening. “Are you serious right now?”

He doesn’t deign that with a response, just huffs as he pushes off the bed and starts putting on his shoes. How fucking stupid.

“So what, you’re not even going to talk to me and just leave?” You question again, and Lando feels a surge of annoyance rise to the surface.

“I don’t want to say something I’m going to regret,” he settles on in the end.

Because how is it that you get to be miffed about him leaving, when it’s him that you’ve just devastated?

He doesn't know if it's faith or delusion that lets him believe you didn't mean it like that. And the worst part is that he could've and should've seen this coming. He knew not to push you, not to rush you. He thought that he could handle it. Do it right. Plan a heart to heart. Let it all unfold.

Instead, everything's gone wrong, despite trying to do the right thing. And for the first time that day, Lando feels like a fraud.

a/n: just a little something to tide you over before the next chapter this weekend :) I think i'm going back to just having a 1x per week update schedule, I was hoping the summer would see my day job calm down - but it's felt like the opposite unfortunately. So, I need to be realistic in what I can deliver... Not that there are many chapters left, but I like to keep you guys in the loop and set the right expectations instead of letting you down by being late with uploading every time :(

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

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