#i liked writing it it was fun

[pizzee]

here there be monsters

GET THIS BEAST AWAY FROM ME. i’ve been writing this for so long o my lord it was an endeavour let me tell ya. here’s the jack backstory fic no one asked for but i deliver anyway, here on Ao3 where the formatting is actually decent. warnings for a brief description of a panic attack and general horror elements (blood, mentions of death, monsters, etc)

AND THANK U @tiptapricot FOR BETA READING I LOVE U 💋💋FRUIT GOD NATION RISE UO

From a distant dream, somewhere on a shoreline miles away where it’s not quite dusk but not yet dawn, he sits and listens. Jack, she says, and he glances up to meet her gaze. Jack, she repeats, then reaches out and shakes him awake.

Lissa sits over him, a string of pearls strung up in a smile, eyes glittering with palpable excitement. She whispers his name again, his nickname, then his hidden name revealed to no one.

“Idiot.” She laughs, poking his cheek. “Come on, get up!”

He groans and bats her hand away, gently shoving her off before rolling over onto his stomach, right to the edge of their bed. He adjusts his covers a bit tighter and tries to ignore her. He knows it’s futile—she’s relentless when she gets like this, like there’s jet fuel heating her veins, pumping her heart, forcing her to move—but it doesn’t hurt to try. Jack likes his sleep. Lissa always has other ideas about what he can be doing.

“Come on!” Another shake, then a breath of frustration and Jack knows exactly what that means. There’s no preparing for it. He braces.

The covers are ripped off and thrown to the side, and so his pleasant bubble of warmth is gone and he’s left splayed out on the bed in the night chill. There’s no sleeping now.

He rolls back over and throws one arm over his face, peeking an eye out to look at his sister grinning. “What do you want?”

She pokes his cheeks, alternating sides while he fills them with air and lets her push it out. She laughs. He smiles. 

Lissa points to the side. “The eclipse.”

Jack shifts to glance where she’s pointing, out the single window in their tiny room. The moon is bright. It’s orange. He bites back the bit of dread that always worms its way into his heart like a curse at the sight of it and keeps up with the act, fondly indulging, the fearless big brother. Jack swallows around the stone in his throat and pushes up to sit, letting Lissa crawl onto his back so he can carry her outside.

“Oof, you’re getting too big for this,” he groans quietly, allowing her to slowly push open the door of their room so they can tiptoe out of the house. Jack’s careful to step only on the floorboards he knows creak the quietest, especially when they move past where Mamá sleeps restlessly on the sofa.

“Maybe you’re getting too old,” Lissa says directly into his ear once they’re out of Mamá’s earshot, then grabs his head and redirects it in the direction she wants to go. “Ándale!”

On he goes, out through the house and up the hill, to the spot behind a row of bushes where a makeshift campsite sits. They made it last summer, on the first full moon they didn’t leave. When Mamá didn’t drag them out of the house with no explanation of where they were going, only that they were moving. On the first night of many nights they’d spent in one place in a long, long time. Jack lets Lissa hop off his back and follows her past the leaves and branches to a soft patch of land where she plops down onto the grass. He settles beside her with a sigh.

“Your nightgown is gonna get dirty.”

Lissa rolls her eyes in a manner that’s so like their mamá he has to laugh. She shoves him for it, and he apologizes, and they sit side by side, staring at the bright orange moon looming above like a bad omen. It’s so vibrant it’s almost red, oozing moonlight like an open wound. Jack shudders, then tries to disguise it as a shiver, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Something grazes his shoulder and Jack nearly jumps, but it’s just Lissa, her touch staying light and easy. He glances at her.

She smiles. “Scared?”

No, Jack wants to say. He should say, should shake his head and be ok. 

Moonlight.

His nails dig into his arms.

“Yes.”

There’s no more words between them. She moves closer, leans against his side, and falls asleep with her hand in his, crescent moons left embedded into his skin. Jack doesn’t join her. He stays awake, listening to the wind and her breaths until pink and orange paint over the purples of night as the sun stretches his arms across the sky. Not quite dawn, not quite night.

    Mamá makes them pack that afternoon and they leave in the evening. Jack has to heave the suitcases filled with gifts she insists on bringing, while their clothes are relegated to being stuffed in school backpacks.

“We can’t show up empty handed,” she tells him as she fills yet another bag with baby clothes for a cousin he’s never met and ceramic plates for an aunt he doesn’t remember, “it’s rude.”

“We haven’t seen these people in years,” Jack complains.

“You’re sixteen, it’s about time you meet them. These people are your family.” 

Then she does the thing. She stops dead in the middle of what she’s doing and stares blankly at the only picture on the dining table that sits atop stacks of nearly past due bills. It’s a faded old brown and beige photo of his father, high brows, a smile that pushes at the corners of his eyes, hair swept back and graying. He looks happy. Jack guesses he was. 

Mamá’s hands move in a practiced pattern: she swipes her eyes, slowly with the pad of her thumbs as if tears were shed, and then stretches and reaches out, fingers retracting into loose fists, closing tightly, and lowering into her lap. Her breath catches. Jack watches silently.

“When he was alive,” she starts, she always starts, “we’d visit them once a year in Oaxaca. It’s tradition.”

Is it tradition to never stay in one town for more than a month for almost a decade? Jack doesn’t ask. He doesn’t say anything at all. Mamá goes back to packing gifts and humming songs and by the time Jack comes back in for the next round of things to stow away, the frame on the table is empty. 

The journey from Guadalajara to Oaxaca takes an entire day and it’s hard not to feel like they’re leaving and never coming back. Their little car is brimming with things. There’s hardly enough room in the back for anyone to sit, so Lissa ends up sitting on Mamá’s lap in the front or on the center console, where—when he isn’t driving—Jack diligently ensures her safety with an arm constantly holding her steady. Most of the time is spent singing along to songs on the radio, and playing games. Charades ends up as a game of act out whatever animal or person Lissa tells you to and have Mamá guess it. Which, when playing with Lissa, always goes off the rails.

“Who am I supposed to be?” Jack asks her while they wait in the car at the pit stop.

“The paper says it.”

He waves it around in front of her. “Bigfoot isn’t real.”

She gives him a disappointed look. “He is, I know because I’ve met him.”

“You two have lunch together?” Mamá asks as she shimmies back into the car and hands them both burritos from the food truck they stopped at.

“Yup, he’s a big fan of tea.”

“Of course he is.”

They end up debating several other theories that Lissa proposes as a universal truth. 

“The chupacabra is a werewolf.”

“That’s assuming the chupacabra is real.”

She scoffs and waves her hand dismissively. “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

Jack chuckles and Lissa begins rambling, but he doesn’t miss the silence from their mamá, who sits with Lissa on her lap and stares blankly out the window. Her fingers are dancing across the edge of a paper. The photo of their father. Jack keeps his eyes resolutely on the road. 

Night rolls around and they pull over to switch drivers. Jack moves around some luggage and makes enough room for Lissa to sleep in the back, at the expense of having to hold a suitcase in his lap, but it’s worth it. It’s dark when they continue, the sky pitch black, the road an even darker maw ahead, its teeth the sparse lights blurring past. The moon is out of sight, but it’s somewhere above. Jack doesn’t like it, so he closes his eyes. He’s half asleep when Mamá speaks.

“I will tell you a story.”

She doesn’t look at him to see if he’s awake. Her eyes stay on the road, headlights occasionally offering a glimpse of her face. Her mouth is a tight line, eyes seeing but unfocused, her hands tight around the fabric of the wheel and hair unruly from a day of travel. It makes the shadows lengthen beneath her eyes, cast over her cheekbones and under her nose, and they remind Jack of that story. La llorona, wailing over her lost children. He listens.

“A man and his wife lived in a village in the shadow of a castle. It was abandoned, only the Ghost meandered about the halls, whispering to itself, wishing it were dead. And yet it lived. The man’s wife was with child. One day, the lord of the castle returned. An evil man, who feasted on the blood of innocents and had a long shadow that did not grow as the sun descended. He returned and claimed dominion over the land, demanding all who live in the castle’s shadow acknowledge his lordship and pay taxes. 

The man did not accept this new lord, but he lived in his domain. So, he captured moonlight in a bottle and sunlight in a box and placed both at the doorway of his house, preventing the lord from entering without permission and allowing him and his wife to live peacefully. The rest of the village fell into despair in the absence of light, but the man cared for his wife too much. When she went into labor, he was forced to leave his home, taking the box of sunlight with him as protection, to find a midwife. In his absence, the lord drank the wife’s blood and killed her, then made the infant drink moonlight, cursing it.”

“What were they cursed with?” Jack asked, his voice quiet.

Mamá hums, running her hands up and down the edge of the wheel. “When the moon waxes until it wanes, on the first night of their eighteenth year, the child would transform into a savage beast, driven to rip up everything in sight until its rage was quelled by the dawn.” 

The car is briefly lit up by a street lamp. Mamá turns and stares at him, eyes piercing. 

“They turned into a monster and slaughtered his village. They ate flesh and bone and was not satisfied until the sun rose three nights later and they were left steeped in blood and horror.”

Jack’s nails dig into the palm of his hand and he makes sure to hide the pain, keeping his breaths even, holding her gaze. 

“Why are you telling me this?” he whispers, hoping he doesn’t sound as terrified as he feels.

Mamá doesn’t react for a beat, and Jack knows he’s missing something in her expression that’s supposed to tell him why. He doesn’t understand. Then she blinks and turns back to watching the road as if she said nothing. He’s left to sit in oppressive silence until she speaks again. Quietly, casually, forcefully.

“When he was alive—“ she begins, then abruptly changes her mind. “Learn from it.” She says nothing else.

Jack looks out the window, face hidden from Mamá’s view by the suitcase in his lap, and doesn’t sleep until exhaustion claims him sometime well into the morning when he can just start to make out the outlines of roadkill by the asphalt. He dreams of drinking moonlight and blood red stones and transformations in shadows and mornings filled with fear. 

    They arrive in Oaxaca around mid morning and it’s a whirlwind from there. Driving through the city, it’s nothing like Guadalajara. It’s older, with narrow cobbled streets and virtually no sidewalks, all small colorful buildings that have the charm of age and a need for a fresh coat of paint. There’s fewer tourists and fewer cars and fewer familiar sights. It’s nothing Jack isn’t used to, not with the constant monthly moves they did for so long. It became so constant he started waking up just before midnight every full moon and anticipating Mamá bursting into their room and rushing them out with suitcases they never even unpacked, the only picture that ever mattered clutched tightly in her hand, Lissa’s hand in the other. Jack always just trailed behind them.

The event (a family reunion or whatever it is), is being held at an event hall that looks like it was used for a wedding just a few hours prior. There are still pink rose petals scattered across the floor and plates of half eaten cake in the trash. And it’s absolutely brimming with people. They’re spilling out of the front entrance and on the covered patio out front, all conversations and laughing and smiling and reminiscing on stories and history Jack doesn’t know and never will. It’s too much.

“Mamá,” he whispers as she finally puts their sadly sputtering car  into park. He looks out the window and then back at her. “There’s too many people.”

She furrows her eyebrows and follows his gaze, before grinning, her expression a little amused but mostly understanding and sympathetic as she takes his hands in hers.

“You’ll be fine mi amor.” She pulls him closer and plants a kiss on the crown of his head. “Mi caballero.”

It’s moments like these that make the terrifying tales and the dead stares and the constant moves worth it. When she strokes the back of his head and smiles at him with all love. It’s always all love, but there’s sometimes—oftentimes—something… solemn, almost paralyzed underneath. 

“And if it’s too much,” she continues while unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching back to shake his sister awake, “for either you or Analissa, just tell me and I’ll cover for you.”

Jack smiles and launches himself over the center console to grab Mamá’s face and kiss her cheek. “I love you.”

She’s stunned for a beat, but then laughs bright and loud and shakes her head. “Yes I know, I love you too. Now get out.”

He does as he’s told, with a deep breath and quick mental pep talk, shielding his eyes against the sun as he pushes open the door. He’s been hidden from it for the almost fourteen hour ride, and now it rolls in waves over his skin, a gentle caress of warmth. Jack lowers his hand with a deep sigh and smiles into the sunbeams. 

“You must be Laura’s boy,” an unfamiliar voice says.

Bliss flees, chased out by anxiety as Jack blinks away the multicolored dots littered across his vision and turns to whoever’s talking. It’s a woman in a dress that looks like wildflowers, a wide sun hat keeping her shaded. She takes him in, then pastes a smile on her face and presents him a gloved hand. 

“Maria Rodriguez,” she says, “your cousin.”

“Uh, Jack—“

“I know.” She grips his hand hard mid-shake, enough to make the bones in his knuckles creak, and watches him from beneath dark lashes. She takes a deep breath before letting go, and all the while her grin never falters and is never anything but sharp. Something satisfied settles as she slides her hand free. Jack quietly sighs in relief. “We’ve been waiting to meet you for so long, it’s nice to finally see you around.”

He bites back a grimace and changes it into a wavering grin.  Maria’s expression ticks and she opens her mouth to speak again when Mamá sweeps up from behind with Lissa in tow and clasps a hand on Jack’s shoulder firmly. Her smile is all bite when Jack glances over at her.

“Maria, where’s your husband?” she asks, voice dripping with fake politeness.

Maria shrugs and shifts, inching back. “Dead.”

Mamá clicks her tongue, feigning pity, and looks her up and down. “Ah, I see you’re in mourning.”

A burst of laughter that almost makes Jack jump erupts from the woman. “Always.” She makes a show of adjusting her sun hat and lets the humor fall. “Funny that. Until next time.”

And she’s off, turning back into the venue and ignoring a gaggle of children that call her name as she goes. Mamá’s hand falls from Jack’s shoulder. She swipes at her forehead, face already red from the sun, and rolls a suitcase balancing a pile of extra giftbags atop in front of him.

“Who was she?” Jack asks.

“Un pinche perra,” Lissa says, reciting with her eyes closed and a small grin.

Mamá lunges out to snatch her wrist. “Analissa!”

She dances out of reach, giggling as she runs into the venue and yelling behind her, “You said it first!”

“She’s going to be the death of me…” Mamá groans while Jack tries and fails to stifle a laugh behind his hand, receiving a light slap on the back of his head for his troubles. “You both will.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Not if that Maria lady doesn’t manage it first.”

Mamá hums. “She’s—they’re all…” She trails off and levels him with a serious look. “Listen, none of these people here know you. Only you know yourself. Don’t go to the crypt when we’re here, don’t listen to anything they tell you, they always lie.”

There’s an urgency and directness in her voice that’s different from usual. It borders on desperate. Jack pinches his lips together into what he hopes is a reassuring look and wraps two of his fingers around hers. Her face softens, her shoulders ease, and it’s worth the bit of dread that’s coiled tight in his gut, the bit that gets a little tighter when he sees the edge of the photograph sticking out of her pocket.

Jack ignores it, as he does best, and shoots a lighthearted look at the suitcase. “But you brought them a car full of gifts.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s rude not to.”

“And is it rude to stay any longer than dinner?”

Now she laughs. “Just until dinner.”

By the time they finish unloading the car and enter the venue, dinner seems too far away. Jack’s met enough Gregory’s and Maria’s and Juan’s and Julia’s to fill a phone book, and he’s been asked if he “Remembers me?” followed by an inevitable “I met you when you were 1/2/3/4/5, you were so cute, you have your mother’s/father’s smile” so many times that he’s started cutting them off as soon as he hears ‘Recuerdas—’ with a swift “no, sorry,” a smile, and a quick shuffle away to the safety of the bathroom. He’s also heard enough contradictory stories about his parents that it’s become impossible to keep what he knows really happened separate from what others say.

“Your uncle Felipe and your mother always had something going on…” Tia Omira gossiped over a glass too many of wine.

“He was in a motorcycle gang, the asshole keyed my car,” Primo Julio complained.

“They met at a dance but were part of different communities,” Abuelo Hugo said, “a love that could never be.”

“Isn’t that the plot of West Side Story?” Jack asked.

Abuelo Hugo gaped. “The lack of respect from your generation…”

And so on.

Not even sitting by Mamá ends up being safe, since he’s always getting dragged into conversations with family members she very clearly does not like, and all he can do is watch them make passive aggressive comments to each other until he’s excused to go use the bathroom or eat or check on Lissa—who’s thriving commanding the other kids on how exactly to play freeze hide and seek—or any other excuse he can conjure up. It’s boring, everyone else his age was allowed to go into town because they’ve gone to every other family reunion but oh no, Jack has to stay and try and memorize every person’s name, relation to him, and short irrelevant story about what they remember about his father. And it seems like he’s the only person who doesn’t remember him at all.

Outside of the glimpses of the photo, in the mirror, in a dream.

So he finds himself doing exactly what he thought he’d be doing: nothing. He sits on the balcony overlooking the backyard, legs dangling between the bars of the railing, and tunes out the chatter of inane family drama and politics coming from the people eating at the tables behind him . He starts counting blades of grass in the yard behind the venue just to have anything to do, when the air shifts and there’s the clicking sound of heels making their way towards him. They stop beside him, and from the corner of his eye, Jack can make out black pointed toes, then knee length leather boots that lead up to a high collared dress and a small grin.

“Hello,” the person greets.

Jack blinks. “Hi.”

They tilt their head. “Jacob, is it.”

It isn’t a question. He answers regardless. “Just Jack.”

They click their tongue and their expression sours for a second so short Jack thinks he might’ve imagined it. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…” He chews on his lip and musters a sheepish grin. “Enjoying the view?”

The person’s mouth quirks up, as if they don’t know how to smile, before they break out into radiant laughter that drowns out everything else. They smile at him, all teeth, eyes overly bright.

“I’m sorry,” Jack licks his lips and scratches behind his ear anxiously, “who—“

“—are you supposed to be?” they finish, then shrug. “Lupe. Your…” they grin, “abuel, of sorts.”

Abuel they say, yet their face is absent of wrinkles or any signs of aging, besides the light circles under their eyes that speak of a night or two without sleep. Jack frowns.

“Not to be rude,” he prefaces before adding, “but you look more like a cousin.”

Lupe’s eyes widen briefly before they burst out laughing again. They lean forward against the railing and point back inside at Abuela Imelda, who’s hunched over at a table where people are shouting questions at her. Jack’s heard she either responds to them the next year, or doesn’t seem to hear them at all. 

“I’m older than her,” Abuel Lupe says, then straightens and clasps their hands behind their back, “but it’s just Lupe. Call me Abuel Lupe and I’ll hunt you for sport.” 

There’s a look in their eyes that says they aren’t joking. Jack worries his lip for a moment before making to stand.

“Don’t move,” they command and he does as he’s told. They look behind them at the rest of the party, then move to sit beside him. “You seem to be having fun.”

Jack scoffs. “Are we really related?”

“We are. Paternally, directly.”

“How come no one here knows you then?”

They rock their head side to side for a second. “I know everyone here. Only a few know about me.”

“Why?”

“I knew your father.”

Jack huffs at the immediate topic change and draws his knees to his chest, resting his chin atop them. “You and everyone else,” he mumbles.

Lupe raises an eyebrow and narrows their eyes. “You’ve heard enough stories about him then.”

“No it’s not that I just…” Everyone knew him better than me. “I’d rather hear about something else.”

There’s a long pause, where the only sounds are the draw of breaths and the muffled chatter spilling out from inside. Jack’s attention is inexplicably drawn to Lupe, who stares intently at him in a way that makes his blood run a little colder. He fights the urge to move away.

“You are sixteen, no?” Jack nods. “I will tell you a story.”

They spread their palms flat over their knees.

“Long ago, after los conquistadors first came, there was a child. They lived with their father low in a valley, far from the village. The child wished to visit the village, but their father said no. He told them he was keeping the world safe, keeping them safe from the world, that he loved them very much but would not let them leave.” They hold up a finger. “Only one of those things was true.”

Jack chews on the inside of his cheek hard enough he tastes iron. “Which one?”

Lupe holds his gaze for a beat before curling their finger into a fist and lowering it back to their side. They shift, for the first time in what seems like ages since they sat, and begin to drum their fingers to a silent rhythm. A death march. They look at the yard, still buzzing with kids, and Jack does the same.

“The child grew and on their eighteenth birthday, they snuck down to the village, away from their father, and lived. For the first time in…” their eyebrows pinch, then smooth, “ever.” They sigh and lightly run their fingers down the bars of the railing. “The next day the moon was full and the village decimated, the blood on the child’s hands. Face. Teeth. In their belly.”

Lupe brushes their fingers along their throat. “Until they choked and coughed in disgust and a river of red poured from their mouth and swept away what was left.”

[And they returned home, five nights after the third, blood still caked under their fingernails and dripping from their tongue, terror clinging to every part of their body. It was still dark. The moon was gone but it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

The door creaked open when they pushed and they took one step inside and saw Father, sitting in a chair facing the door, a sword in his hand. It was carved from silver and  glinted faintly in the shallow morning light. He looked up, eyes shadowed. He saw them. Clutched the hilt tighter and tighter until his hands shook and bled. They watched.

Father raised the sword, and asked, ‘What are you?’

A shadow in the doorway, they answered. ‘I don’t know.’]

    Lissa tells Mamá she wants to go into town, so after a bit of arguing and bartering and promising “No I will not get into a fight with the other kids if they aren’t being pinche—“

“Analissa!”

…promising they will not get into any trouble and Jack will accompany her and they must be back before dinner, she lets them go.

“Thank you for asking for me,” Jack says as soon as they make it out of the venue and start making their way up the road to the town square.

“It’s fine, I wanted to go too, and you looked depressed.”

He forces himself to smile and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide how they shake. “I was fine.”

Lissa hums, unconvinced. “Right because fine entails staying in the bathroom for hours.”

“It wasn’t that long.”

It wasn’t. He ran in there, caught the breath that didn’t want to fill his lungs, gripped the counter until he thought he’d either break his hands or the sink, and bit his knuckles. All with the faucet on, so no one could hear whatever moment he was having after Lupe left. He’d timed it. Only 20 minutes of keeping his heart from pounding to a stop and sheer panic. 

“It was only a few minutes,” he continues, then slows so his sister can skip in front of him, “and you were busy being a tyrant.”

She spins indignantly. “Hey! I asked if anyone wanted to take charge and the one kid that did lost the arm wrestle against me.” She brushes dirt off the skirt of her dress and smiles. “I’d say that was fair.”

Jack snorts. “Anyway, Mamá wouldn’t let me go to town if I asked.”

Lissa makes a face, then slows to his side when they come upon the path that’s apparently supposed to lead them there. 

“Yeah she’s funny with that.”

Jack sighs. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh but once you turn eighteen you can do whatever you want!”

Once you turn eighteen–

Jack shakes away the fear that’s lodged itself in his throat and grins around it.

“Y-you just want someone to take you places,” he forces out and hopes not that Lissa won’t notice, because she always does, but that she’ll let it drop.

And she does, with a tick of her eyebrow and the ghost of a frown. Before it can settle, she spots something beyond his shoulder and starts tugging him off the trail, back in the direction of the venue. 

“Lissa, I don’t think this is the way to the city,” he tells her uneasily, trying to remember where they’re going so they can find their way back.

She nods. “It isn’t, but I was talking to some kids earlier and they said the crypt is nearby.”

“The crypt?” The only place Mamá told them not to go. “I don’t—“

“Our entire family is buried down there! And maybe if we look hard enough, we can find Papá and—“

“Lissa!”

She stops and spins to look at him. Jack huffs and pulls his hand free, putting it on her shoulder and frowning. “Mamá told us specifically not to go there.”

“Yes she did.”

“And?”

“…and?”

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Look, I know you’re used to doing whatever you want and getting away with it—“

“I am not!”

“—but I was left in charge here. And if she finds out that I took you to the crypt after she explicitly told us not to…” He rubs the back of his neck and tries to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “I’d rather we not tempt fate.”

Lissa furrows her eyebrows and, after a second, her expression softens and understanding no twelve year old should have sweeps over her face, before it’s quickly colored by rebellion.

“Isn’t that what it’s all about? Tempting fate?” Her stern look twitches to something mischievous. “Or are you going to live behind Mamá’s skirt your whole life?”

Only in the shadow of a photograph, moonlight, standing in the doorway, in Mamá’s and every adults’ eyes. 

He gives her a flat look and groans when she doesn’t crack because she knows he will.

“Fine! Fine, lead the way.”

And she does, quietly, confidently, and so well Jack starts to wonder if she can actually sniff places out, or if she just has zero cares in the world. Probably both. 

When they stumble upon the entrance to the crypt, they find it’s half buried underground, only a small section open that someone would have to get down on all fours to crawl through into what looks like pure darkness. Basically, ‘do not enter’ is written on the doorway in bright red paint. With the added bonus of what looks like actual blood on some of the stones constructing it and lightly splashed over the Rosillo family name engraved in the stone across the top. They crouch by the entrance and peer inside.

“Should we?” Lissa whispers.

Jack hums and moves his lips side to side as he thinks. “I don’t know. Is it a bad idea?”

“Probably.”

“…let’s do it.”

Lissa starts moving to jump but Jack second guesses his probably idiotic response and grabs her arm before she can throw herself headfirst into a dark, suspicious tunnel that might lead to hell or something.

“Wait wait. I’ll go first.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You. Really?”

“What! You don’t think I’d survive?”

“No.”

Ignoring her offensive comment, Jack rolls his eyes and pushes her back. “Ok listen, I’ll go down and if I don’t respond in ten minutes, you go get someone for help.”

“You mean I can go down and find you.”

“Let’s pretend you’ll listen to me for once? Please?”

She laughs and it feels good to hear. She hooks her pinky around his and nods.

“Ok alright. Don’t die.”

Jack wraps her in a hug and tries not to make it too tight, too desperate. But she knows, she always does, and hugs him back equally fiercely. He pulls away and messes with her hair.

“I won’t.”

He salutes her before he starts crawling through the opening. There’s light inside, just enough that he can make out the slope of loose rocks that lead down from the opening just as he looses his balance. Suddenly, he’s tumbling down and landing flat on his back, pelted by some falling rocks from the pile. 

“Are you alive?!” Lissa yells down into the crypt and it reverberates too loud and worsens whatever headache he can feel coming on. 

Jack groans and rolls onto his side, the bruises already making themselves known. “Yeah,” he shouts back, then mumbles, “painfully.”

“That was quite the fall.”

Jack yelps and leaps to his feet, stumbling back and falling over, again, back onto the pile of rocks. It hurts just as much as before, but now he’s stuck in a small enclosed area with a mystery man who’s standing not that far away from him,with no way of escape. Pain is about the last thing in his mind.

“Jack!” Lissa shouts.

The man presents his palms, but it’s hard to make out his face with just the light coming from the hallway. He says something incomprehensible while Jack blinks, disoriented, and stares for probably too long. 

The man seems to catch his mistake and shifts to perfect, albeit heavily accented, Spanish. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you don’t speak English.”

“Who the hell are you?” Jack asks, wrapping his hand around a stone and clutching it tightly.

The man sees the motion and inches backwards a bit, keeping his hands up. “I could ask you the same thing, kid. You just broke into my family’s crypt.”

Jack wrinkles his nose and takes in said crypt. The walls are made of stone, arching in and poorly lit by sparse torches along the walls. There’s a single hallway of coffins on both sides. It’s… normal. Jack isn’t sure what he was expecting. 

He turns his attention back to the man. “Technically the entrance was open, I just walked in. And this is my family’s crypt. So who are you?”

The man cocks his head a bit, like he’s listening for something, then tilts it up like he’s… sniffing the air? Jack’s probably just imagining things. 

“Philip Russell.”

Jack raises an eyebrow and pushes himself to his feet, with a bit of effort and moves further into the crypt but stays away from Philip. “Who?”

“Uh, Felipe. Sorry, I know our family can be a bit…” he trails off and shrugs, “funny with names.” 

That rings some bells. A memory of a letter from someone, Philip written on the shredded envelope and Sinceramente, Felipe at the very bottom of the page. Mamá would always scoff and toss it out with the rest of the trash. 

Philip points. “And you’re—“

“Jack!!” Lissa yells again.

Jack sighs and hums. Philip nods. “Right.” 

Philip moves slightly, just enough so the light shines on his face and he looks… like Jack. Or, more like Lissa, but she always took more after their father, apparently. Dark features, some height for her age, an expression like they always know what you mean because Lissa always does. He looks like family. Jack doesn’t drop the rock. Philip notices.

“I’m not gonna kill you kid,” he says lightheartedly, “and I think you would’ve done a good enough job of that, braining yourself on those rocks.”

As if on cue, Lissa comes falling down into the crypt, prompting Jack to go and help her.

“Like that,” Philip says from behind.

Once she’s up and has dusted off her dress, Lissa squints and points accusingly at him. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Lissa,” Jack groans and rubs his eyes. “Whatever happened to staying outside and going for help?”

She shrugs, a little too nonchalantly for potentially being stuck in the crypt with someone who’s relation to them they still don’t know. “You’re really turning into Mamá now.”

“Wow, wait you’re Gregory’s kids?” he exclaims, then claps excitedly. “You’re both so grown! I’m your tío, I met you both when you were, hm what was it a decade ago?”

“When I was six,” Jack supplies tiredly.

“Yeah! Gosh you were both so cute. Do you remember me?” He smiles and holds out his hands but they both just stare. He sighs and relents. “You look like you have questions.”

“I don’t—“

“Why are you American?” Lissa blurts out.

Philip reels back, then barks out a startled laugh. “I’m as American as you.”

“So… not at all?” She continues. Jack pinches her arm and shoots her a look, but Philip’s already answering.

“Hm, depends on who you ask, when you ask it, and how you do the asking. But is Mexico not in the Americas? What are they teaching you in school these days…”

She flushes and huffs. “It is. I meant—“

“I know, kid. I moved there. Hm, really my family moved there when I was young. Hence why our last name is Russell, not Rosillo. Made it easier to find work and all. It was me, my parents, my… older brother.”

Their father, Jack can fill in. “Why are you here?”

Philip raises his eyebrows and looks over his shoulder, at the end of the hall where it’s especially well lit. “To honor our ancestors. The same reason why I assume you're here, despite Laura definitely telling you to stay away.”

Jack cringes. “How’d you know?”

“Some things never change. Your mother is no different.”

He knows that. Too well.

Lissa leans out and stumbles forward, squinting at the light. “What’s down there?”

Philip follows her gaze. “Your father.”

“Really?!”

“In a way.” He beckons them on and they follow, Jack leading with Lissa close behind him.

They walk to the end of the hallway, past walls lined with coffin upon coffin, different names and remembrances carved beneath each slot they’re slid into. Some of the coffins shake along the way, some bang. Lissa jumps; Jack tries very hard to stay calm. 

“Is that normal?” He asks, pointing at one of the shaking coffins.

Philip stops and glances at it. “The dead sometimes become restless.”

Lissa inches closer to one and reaches out. “Sh-shouldn’t we let them out—?”

Her hand is snatched away before her fingertips can grace the edge of the coffin. Philip lets her go as fast as he grabbed her and says, flatly: “The dead are dead for a reason. They are meant to stay that way.”

He continues on, but it’s nearly impossible to not hear the shaking and banging, the echoing sounds compounding into screams. Jack doesn’t think of it that way. He doesn’t.

They come to a stop at the end of the hall, before a statue of a saint, hooded, face covered, head bowed, and holding a bowl half filled with water dripping from the ceiling. Gregory Russell is inscribed at the base of it, along with several other names that look centuries older. Jack looks back at the face of the statue. It’s crying. 

“You know, I knew your mom before your dad met her,” Philip continues.

Jack balks. “Really?”

“Ah well. Laura and I go… way back. But your dad was a better fit for her. A bit less… wild, I guess.”

Lissa snorts but it’s halfhearted. She keeps looking behind her, at the now still, quiet coffins. “You do seem pretty boring.”

Philip chuckles again, tight. “Anyone told you you look just like your dad?”

“Only when I’m here.” She looks more intently at the name that Jack’s been staring at, crouches down and traces the loops and letters with her fingers. “Do you know what happened to our father?”

“You don’t know?”

Jack answers for them. “No.”

Philip sucks in a breath and mutters something too low to hear that sounds like a countdown from two before he drags a hand over his face and sighs. “I’ll tell you a story.”

“Please no, I’ve heard…” Jack digs his nails into his palms and forces himself calm again, “I’ve heard enough.”

But everyone seems intent on telling him every tale without actually saying anything. Philip gives him a long look and his face hardens. “If you’re saying that then you haven’t. You have to know. You have to remember.”

He wets his lips and glances at the statue, then back at Jack before straightening and inhaling deeply.

“There were two brothers. Think of them like Cain and Abel.”

“You’re telling us Cain and Abel?” Lissa drawled.

“Listen,” he snaps with more than a little fury and frustration, with a lot of fear. Lissa grips Jack’s hand harder. “They fought over everything. Money, authority, women. Birthright. Until one day, something changed. The eldest he—“ He shakes his head. “He killed someone. He nearly killed the younger brother. He had him inches within death and then…”

Jack swallows hard. “What stopped him?”

“…I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

The crypt is too big, too stagnant. The air smells like iron, rust drips down the walls in cascades of red. The statue sobs.

“What happened next? To the older brother.”

[He ran and ran and by the time morning beamed upon the land and he’d found shelter he was done running, but he could not stop. The eldest brother would continue running until the breath left his lungs, replaced with moonlight that he never drank but was forced to carry in his blood, in his heart. Replaced with that upon which he would gasp and choke, and die.]

“He died.” 

The crypt is too small, too narrow. The air feels like ice and it burns his skin. The statue wails.

“A-and the younger?”

[Three shots rang out and by the time he turned back, by the time he got there, all that was left of the elder sibling, whatever he’d become, was a pool of blood seeping between the cobblestones and staining the street. And the casings of three silver bullets.]

“Never saw him again.”

    They walk back in silence. Somewhere along the way Lissa gets tired, so Jack wordlessly crouches so he can carry her on his back, where she fights hard not to doze off but inevitably loses the battle. They make it back well into dinner and the look on Mamá’s face as they walk in, covered in dirt and sweat and twenty minutes late, is everything and nothing like he could’ve imagined. She doesn’t react, not like how she’d be expected to. There’s no yelling and stomping or even a change in her expression. She keeps smiling after hearing whatever joke someone just told her and holds it while she pins him with a stare.

She’s furious. Jack knows.

She excuses herself when he goes to put Lissa down on the sofa, letting her yank his arm and drag him outside, well away from the venue and windows, into a dimly lit shed that’s too cramped for two people. Her voice is too loud, the light hurts Jack’s eyes, and his head hurts almost as much as his chest does. It’s hard to breathe.

“Where the hell were you?” she hisses, low and steady. “Don’t lie.”

He wasn’t planning on it, but that makes fire rise from his feet past his heart to his mouth.

“The crypt,” he spits, “that’s where.”

“I told you—“

“I know what you said but you never told me why and I…” He tempers himself a little, tries to stay calm. “I spoke to Tío Philip.”

Her expression darkens, mouth tight. “Felipe.”

He stops his face from twisting. “He told me about my father, and—“

“You had no reason to speak to him.”

“It’s not like you would tell me anything. And everyone here just recalls these-these stories and half of them are lies and the other half are—“

‘What are you?’

He clamps his mouth shut and moves to wipe the sweat off his face when Mamá grabs a hold of his wrist.

“What do you want to hear?” she snaps. “That he was shot dead in the street like an animal? That we couldn’t have a funeral because they stole his body? That your family acts like nothing happened when it was their fault, when it will be their fault?! He’s dead, Jacob, let him rest.”

Jack rips his arm out of her grip and moves back to brace himself against the table and lets the anger speak. “You’re allowed to have a picture but I can’t even get one solid memory? Everyone here tells me stories Mamá, you tell me stories, but I don’t know what’s real—“

She shakes her head and mumbles, “They’re all real and none of them are.”

“I don’t understand!”

“You aren’t meant to! For God’s sake you are a child, you don’t need to—“

“Don’t you see that I do! I—I don’t know who I’m supposed to be… I don’t get it, you don’t—you don’t treat Lissa like this.”

Mamá’s face goes flat. She shakes her head more fervently and her voice wavers almost as much, her tone pressing. “She’s not the same, she isn’t— you are my first born. You are nearly eighteen. Do you understand what that means?”

Jack groans, “I don’t! I don’t and everyone keeps telling me I should but no one will tell me why. Why Mamá? Why are we here? Why—why can’t I go down to the crypt or talk to Lupe? Why—“

She yells then. “Because I said so! Because I’m trying to keep you safe and you seem intent on doing everything in your power to get yourself killed!” 

Like your father. 

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to. She still clamps a hand over her mouth as if she did. She shuts her eyes against the tears that are shed regardless and she falls to her knees at his feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” she mutters between sobs, grabbing his hands. “Forgive me please forgive me.”

“…Ok.”

She wipes her face with her dress and looks up at him, face still shiny. She pleads. “Let’s leave, let’s… Let’s leave.”

“…Ok.”

    They leave Oaxaca before the main course, after awkward goodbyes to family members Jack will probably forget again and whose names he won’t care to remember. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Lupe tells him, grabbing his hand loosely but stopping him in his tracks. They sit at the head of the table, but no one looks their way. They let him go with a grin. “Vaya con Dios.”

He tries not to run.

Mamá drives, even if she’s been awake for almost twenty hours. She slips behind the wheel and starts the car without a word. Jack puts Lissa in the back, now clear of things, and she hardly stirs, only mumbling once to dreamily ask if it’s Christmas yet. He tells her no and sets his jacket over her, then sits in the passenger seat. He looks out the window and watches them pull away, the venue growing smaller and dimmer, its warm glowing lights making the stark white walls seem inviting, before eventually, it disappears around a corner, hidden by trees. The road blurs by, everything blends into itself, and with the moon out of sight, out of mind, Jack drifts.

He wakes twice. The first time still feels like a half-dream he can’t remember. He’s leaning against the door, the top of his head pressed to the window and neck aching. Someone is singing.

“Hoy me tengo que ir mi amor…”

It’s familiar. It’s warm, it’s bright. It’s a weight on the edge of his bed, hands tucking him in, his name. It’s Jack, mi hijo. It’s a face, a smile. Not Mamá’s, it’s... Memories that fade just as suddenly as he remembers. And a song, a lullaby.

“A solas yo te cantaré soñando en regresar.”

The second time is more solid. The car is stopped, he’s lying on the center console, and there’s a hand, fingers running through his hair. Gently, easily. Whispers of apologies and quiet cries that trail off into silence. Mamá falls asleep. Jack stays awake.

Something pokes his shoulder. He carefully shifts to look behind him at Lissa, on her knees in the backseat, crouched low.

“Hey,” she says.

He exhales quietly. 

“Is Mamá asleep?”

He blinks and carefully nods.

She points outside. “Can we?”

He chews on his lip, closes his eyes, musters the courage, and nods again. Once Lissa’s climbed out and up onto the roof of the car, Jack carefully moves Mamá’s hand from his head and places it in her lap. He looks at her for a beat. Tear tracks stain her cheeks, her eyes red. The picture of his father is held loosely in her other hand. Jack reaches in the backseat for his jacket and drapes it over her. Before he gets out, he presses a kiss to her temple.

“Took you long enough,” Lissa grins once he’s settled beside her.

He runs his tongue across his teeth and nods.

She scoots closer. “Are you ok?”

Yes, he wants to say. But he looks up and there the moon is. Waning. And it should be comforting, that it isn’t full, that’s it’s not a spotlight shining only and directly on him. But—

Moonlight.

He shuts his eyes and hopes it’s dark enough that he can pretend there aren’t any tears, that there’s nothing wrong because there isn’t. There isn’t. 

“No.”

Lissa throws her arms around him and he buries his head in her shoulder and, for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels safe.

She falls asleep and just before he does, he carries her back inside the car and settles in the backseat, with her on his lap and Mamá still settled in the front. Then, he closes his eyes.

And he dreams. Of a shoreline, where the sun sits low but time feels wrong. There’s no pull of moonlight, no force making his bones shiver and ache. But the comfort of sunshine is a faded memory and he’s stuck in limbo between the two. Someone whispers behind him, words he doesn’t want to understand so he keeps looking at the sea and wishing, praying for anything but night, for anyone who’ll listen, but it doesn’t come. What comes instead is her voice.

Jack, she says, and he glances up to see her, wading through the water to him. Jack.

Her fingertips ghost along his cheekbone, tracing the outline of him, reminding him. To focus. To remember.

To change.

The sun is up far before him, already moving across the sky, stretched and spread comfortably above. Not dusk, not dawn. Morning.

[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[crookedtines]

I finally took the time to photograph my vintage dip pen nib collection, and I need to share with you all how wonderful and diverse their designs are.

These two are my favorite. Just look at them! One of them is named Gorille and the other Mephisto, but to me they're little pumpkins.

And of course you gotta love the Pinocchio nib. You get to write with the nose of a tiny guy! Just not something you get to do anymore.

[black-quadrant]

sometimes all you need is one passionate person who goes berserk for your work to keep you creating

[lgbtlunaverse]

Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.

[hofudlaus]

also posting these two on their own :-) based on This post by @outpastthemoat

[magnusbae]

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[ear-motif]

fanfic is so good bc the premise of some genres of fic are just inherently funny. I want these two grizzled crime drama protagonists to have some fucking fun for once, so they go to a water park. I dont care how i have to logic my way into them going there i dont care who has to drag them Theyre Going

[idiotsonlyevent]

i wonder where the idea of chilchuck being a deadbeat came from when theres like. no textual evidence for it ?

he knows what all of them are up to; he still writes to flertom and she sent him his neckwarmer, so that to me implies that they at least have a somewhat positive relationship?

its more ambiguous with meijack and puckpatti, but since meijack is also a picklock, i wouldn't be surprised if he taught her himself, considering how trades are often passed down through families, and because he talks about sending people to her if he dies.

also the way he talks about puckpatti is very like... it's obvious he wants her to take things more seriously, but he's accepting, and his tone here reads more fond to me than anything else.

like, he keeps his daughters' old toys under his desk? that doesn't scream 'deadbeat' at all, it screams 'empty nester' who doesn't know how to reach out or is scared to do so

EDIT: i know a lot of the 'deadbeat dad' stuff is jokes, but some people are Not joking and genuinely think chilchuck is a bad dad. this post is not saying that you cant joke about it; it is just outlining what canon shows regarding his (clearly positive) relationship with his kids.

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[snoopyracing]

just us // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 15k (again i don't know how to write short fics)

warnings: cursing, alcohol use, smut (18+) (p in v, no protection, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, slight degradation, and exhibitionsim if you squint)

includes: friends to lovers, hidden relationship, jealous!lando, reader and lando being yappers, and reader X max f X lando friendship

summary: the three times your secret relationship with lando almost gets exposed and the one time it finally does.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The sun had just made her grand entrance to the world, golden rays illuminating the quiet Monaco apartment owned by a certain McLaren F1 driver. White bed sheets askew as the two lovers still slept soundly, soft snores echoing through the bedroom. Clothes from the previous nights activities scattered across the floor, almost making a path from the front door to their shared bed. The idea of waking up on neither of their minds, but the sun ray peeking through the open blind caused one of them to stir.

The light shining directly on your face proved opening your eyes to be a little difficult. Squinting, you blindly reached towards the nightstand to grab your phone, but the empty pats on the wood told you your phone wasn't there. A small groan left your lips, even without your phone to see what time it was, you knew it was early. You knew just from the certain birds that were chirping outside, their melodies always filling your ears when you had to get up early.

As you sat up in bed you noticed your lack of pajamas, and as you spotted the trail of clothes leading out of the bedroom you knew your phone had to be somewhere between here and the front door. Memories of the passionate night the two of you shared came flooding back as you leaned against the headboard, the bed sheet tucked under your arms being the only thing to keep your modesty.

The snores coming from beside you told you that Lando was still sound asleep. He was laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you and his arms tucked under his pillow. His muscular arms on full display as he slept like a baby. The shared sheet only covering his bottom half, allowing for his toned back to be exposed.

It was a rare occurrence for the two of you to get mornings like this, or really any chance for you to just admire him in his natural beauty. Lando was always the first to wake, not that he wanted to be, but his lifestyle required him to. Either waking up to travel for race weeks, work out, or work on Quadrant stuff. The boy was going nonstop, so moments like this you never took for granted. It almost brought a sense of normalcy to your lives.

As he laid next to you right now he wasn't some famous Formula 1 driver, he was just Lando. The sweet boy who always texted you good morning and goodnight when the two of you were apart, the boy who always ate the tomatoes off your sandwiches, who always let you pick the music in the car, who always brings you back a stupid tourist souvenir from races you didn't attend. He was yours, every last bit of him.

Your eyes now fully adjusted to the sunlight, grazed over every detail of him. From his little moles, to his eyelashes that made his eyes even more beautiful, to his perfect nose, his jawline sculpted by the gods, and lastly his heart shaped lips. As your eyes moved down to his back you could resist in reaching out your hand to trace mindless patterns as you counted every little mole and freckle that adorned his back.

Feeling him stir under your touch you quickly snatched your hand back, the last thing you had wanted to do was wake him up. And you had thought you were in the clear until a deep, still filled with sleep, voice filled your ears.

"Why'd you stop for?" His eyes were still closed as he untucked his hand from under his pillow, grabbing your now idle hand and moving it back to its prior location on his back.

"So needy." You teased as you resumed the mindless patterns you drew moments ago.

"Hmm. Only for you." He hummed as he felt your touch on him once again. The sensation almost lulling him back to sleep, until the sun that had awoken you moved towards Lando, the beam of light now adorning his face. He looked almost ethereal to you in this light, a moment you wished you had your phone for to capture. His blue eyes even brighter as the light poured into them. "Jesus." He mumbled as he quickly moved away from the light.

"Yeah I don't think the sun wants us to sleep in today, woke me up too." You glanced back at the open blind, then back to the Brit who now was on his side, hand propping up his head as he looked at you. "Maybe if someone closed the blind last night we'd both still be asleep."

A smirk formed on his face at the memories of last night's events. "Maybe if someone would have kept their hands off of me, I would have remembered to close the blind."

"As if!" You scoffed.

His eyebrows raised, cheesy grin on his face as he recalled your words to him. "Really? Because all I can seem to remember is 'lan please touch me' 'i need you' 'don't sto-"

A pillow came barreling towards his face, his words mumbled as he continued to tease you. "Ok! Enough!" You hollered out, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words.

"Awe, is my girl embarrassed?" Laughter laced in his words as he moved closer to you. "Honestly I love the fact that you can't keep your hands off me and the day that I don't is the day I need to be taken out back and shot."

"You're so fucking dramatic I cannot." You laughed, eyes rolling playfully at him. "It's a good thing I love you Norris."

His smile still not leaving his face as he switched to join you in sitting up in bed. His hands reaching out to cup your face as he leaned in closer. "You better." He teased before connecting his lips with yours. The feeling something you prayed you'd never grow tired of. His kisses always had somewhat of a drug feeling to you, always making you want more, point proven as he went to pull away you were grabbing at him, pulling him back in. And when you had finally got your full fix he was the one that looked like a dopey fool, lips swollen and eyes hooded. "God I love you." He stated as his fingers traced from your neck down to your arm.

A smirk was tugging at your lips as you repeated Lando's words back to him. "You better."

The two of you spent the remainder of the morning wrapped in each other. Your head on his chest as he ran his hands through your hair, your fingers tracing patterns on his torso. It was peaceful, until the obvious topic that lingered in both your minds had finally festered enough. "We need to talk about yesterday Lan."

Ah, yes, yesterday. How could he forget? How could he forget that he exposed their hidden relationship to the whole world on accident.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The said hidden relationship had been going on for around seven months, but Lando and you had known each other for years. The two of you met through mutual friends and instantly clicked. A bond formed and in what seemed like no time. Lando was someone you considered a best friend or a platonic other half, he just somehow always got you, knew what you were thinking, knew what to do when you were feeling upset or stressed. For Lando you were the one person who could calm him down after a bad race, who could make him laugh without even trying, and was the first person he thought of when he woke up in the morning. You knew each other's favorite foods, childhood dreams, and embarrassing secrets.

You attending the occasional races that were closer to home soon turned into Lando practically begging you to come to any race you could. Off weeks and breaks always spent in each others company. To any outsider looking in, the two of you were practically already together, at least it seemed like it. But if anyone asked either of you if there were feelings there (which many friends had) the both of you would say no. The both of you had never looked at each other in that way. Yes you loved him and you knew he loved you. And yes you weren't blind he was very attractive, but romantic feelings had never crossed your mind. You always pointed out to the people that prodded you with questions about Lando and you, that the both of you've had relationships in the time you've known each other. None of them ever lasting very long though. The both of them not knowing at the time that they were the main causes of their failed relationships.

Though, everything changed one cold January night in London. He had been handsy with you all night at the club, which Lando's hands on you wasn't a new concept, but tonight was excessive and different. His large hands always somehow planted on your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder. You blamed it on the alcohol, that he was just feeling affectionate, but you couldn't deny the feelings that were starting to fester inside of you. The feeling of him pressed up behind you. The feeling of his breath tickling your neck when he would whisper something in your ear. It was awakening something foreign in you towards Lando.

You could feel people's eyes on the two of you, videos undoubtedly being uploaded to social media. It wasn't the first time you had gotten filmed in public, in fact you were used to it, but under tonights circumstances you felt annoyed. You weren't sure if it was the music pouding in your chest or your heart, but combine that with the random eyes staring at you while Lando's hands are on you and this club was the last place you wanted to be. It felt suffocating almost, and you could barely manage to tell Lando you were heading home before you wriggled out of his grasp and made a b-line for the exit.

The cold air that hit your lungs as you exited the club was a soothing relief. The deep breaths you took as you pulled up Uber on your phone had managed to steady your heart rate, but that lasted for a mere second as a familiar hand landed on your shoulder.

"Y/N. Are you okay?"

Goosebumps formed on your skin and you weren't sure if it was from the cold or his touch. You didn't dare look back at him, just focused your attention on getting a ride. "I'm not feeling great. Think I may have drank too much." Lie. Both you and Lando knew you had barely had two drinks tonight and your very much coherent words did nothing to back up your statement. "I've got an Uber on the way. You stay. I'll be fine." Your eyes never leaving your phone as you spoke.

Lando had shuffled to the side of you and you could feel his eyes burning into you. "No, if you're leaving then so am I. Think I could crash at your place?"

Any other night this wouldn't have been such a big deal, Lando had stayed the night at your place many of times and you vise versa, but tonight was not like any other night. The mere idea of sharing a bed with him (because that's what friends do right?) made your head spin. All you had wanted to do was go home, take a cold shower, and try to rationalize these feelings you've had tonight. But your mouth was thinking faster than your brain and a 'sure' came tumbling out past your lips.

"Ok good." Lando stated, a smile tugging at his lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The simple action causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and that's when you knew the goosebumps from earlier were caused by the later option.

The 15 minute drive back to your place felt like an eternity.

The simple gesture of Lando putting his hand on your thigh as you got settled in the back seat made your breath catch in your throat. His head quirked towards you, eyebrows furrowed and his long fingers squeezed your thigh as he asked. "You good?"

You were in fact far from good. Your best friend was getting you hot and bothered in the back of an Uber, so no you weren't good.

"Just choked on my own spit, you know me."

The entire ride his hand felt like a thousand pounds on your thigh, the gesture that you never once batted an eyelash at now had you practically wanting to jump out of the moving vehicle.

The smell of his cologne was making your head spin as you tried to focus on anything other than how fast your heart was beating. If it hadn't been freezing outside you would have rolled down the window and stuck your head outside like a dog.

As the driver turned down your street you already had a grip on the door handle and he hadn't even come to a complete stop before you were opening the door and getting out.

Lando was fast on your heels, and by the time you entered your apartment you had decided that you were sleeping on the couch tonight.

A puzzled Lando stood motionless as he watched you carry a pillow and blanket from your room to the couch in the living room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna sleep out here tonight. You can have my bed." You stated as you made your way towards your bedroom to grab some pajamas. The faster you could get ready for bed and away from whatever spell Lando had on you the better.

He had sat down on your bed as you rummaged through your dresser and you hadn't even heard him follow you to the bathroom until he spoke.

"Are you still not feeling good? Is that the reason you're sleeping on the couch? Or are you pissed at me? I'm already sorry for whatever I did."

As you glanced over at him he was leaning against the door frame and the sight of his shirt slightly raised up should not have made your heart beat quicken like it did, but yet here you were. You ignored his question, instead you were digging through the bathroom drawers, on a mission for your makeup wipes, but you couldn't seem to locate them.

"Top left." Lando shuffled into the bathroom towards the said drawer and as he pulled it open there sat your makeup wipes. A small smirk played at his lips as he handed them over to you.

You mumbled out a 'thanks' as you took them from him. As you took off your makeup he grabbed his toothbrush from the medicine cabinet. And as the two of you stood side by side getting ready for bed you realized just how much the scene playing out was nothing shy of domestication. What male friend knows what drawer your makeup wipes are in? And has his own toothbrush in your bathroom, not the guest bathroom? Has his own drawer in your dresser? Has his designated side of the bed? What other male friend touches you the way Lando does? Holds you? What other person in your life knew you as well as Lando? Who else did you have matching necklaces with? Your brain wouldn't stop with the questions, your body autopiloting the rest of your nighttime routine.

You felt Lando's arms sneak around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. "Don't make me sleep alone tonight." He mumbled, before retreating to your bedroom. His words felt like ice in your veins and as you stood there staring back at yourself in the mirror you realized one thing.

You were fucked.

Thinking back to everytime one of your friends asking if Lando and you were together and you saying no, that there were no romantic feelings there now suddenly seemed like a big lie. Jesus christ, you guys were literally together, minus the kissing and sex, the two of you acted like you were in a relationship.

Did you have romantic feelings for Lando though?

The simple thought of 'i'm in love with my best friend' honestly had never crossed your mind. And thinking back to his past relationships there was never any jealousy coming from your side. So was all this that you were feeling tonight just a fluke? Maybe a side effect from the dry spell you've been having when it came to sex? But as you still stood there staring mindlessly at your reflection all the little pieces started to fit together.

You had said there were no feelings because your brain had blurred the lines between friendship and romantic feelings so much you couldn't tell the difference. Maybe it was your brain's way of protecting you, not letting you fully realize how you felt.

You had never gotten jealous or upset when Lando had gotten into relationships and it was because he still treated you like his number one even while seeing someone else. Looking back you had done the same in your past relationships. You remembered that the two of you had expressed vocally to each other that there must have been something wrong with them as to why they couldn't keep a partner for more than a couple months. And now you could see that you two were each others issue. Who wants to be in a relationship where the other person's heart already belongs to someone else?

How could you have been so blind? Because now the thought of 'i'm in love with my best friend' truly did cross your mind.

As you finally came back down to earth you realized you were going to have to face him as you exited the bathroom to get to the living room. The door had been open the whole time and you could hear a random sitcom playing softly on the TV. You didn't even want to look at him, afraid that one look would make you crawl in next to him. But as your feet moved from the cold tile to plush carpet your heart swelled at the sight in front of you.

Lando was already fast asleep on his side of the bed. Light snores emitting from him, his arm outstretched to your side, like he was waiting for you to climb into his arms (like you usually did). Your legs felt like cement pillars as you forced yourself out of your room. The urge to be wrapped up in his arms almost overpowering the sane part of you. You needed to be alone tonight, it was the smart thing to do. You had realized some big things about yourself and your relationship with Lando tonight and the level headed thing to do was to distance yourself until you had your head on completely straight.

That though, was easier said than done.

You were tired when you laid down on the couch, but yet almost two hours later you were still tossing and turning. Your mind being the main contributor as to why you were still up, Lando being the only thing on your mind. The uncomfortable couch didn't help either and you felt sorry for any your friends who had previously crashed on it. You tried to distract yourself, but scrolling on TikTok ended 30 minutes ago and you could only play so much Monopoly Go before you ran out of dice. A loud sigh escaped past your lips as the time on your phone read 3:00. If you would have just slept in your own bed you would have been in a deep sleep right now. But you were determined to not give in to your desires.

Ten minutes later your willpower gave out and you were walking down the hall towards your room. You slowly turned the door handle, not wanting to wake Lando. As you quietly closed the door, you couldn't help but shake your head at the fact that you were sneaking into your own room right now. It felt funny, like you were suddenly a teenager again.

Whatever had been playing on the TV had shut off and the glow of the screen saver was the only thing illuminating the room. Lando was still sound asleep, he was on his side now, and you were thankful that his back would be to you when you climbed into bed. Tip toeing to your side you carefully slid under the covers, the feeling of being in your own bed immediately relaxing you.

In a matter of seconds of you laying down Lando had flipped over, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. For the first time in you think ever, you tensed at the feeling of being in his arms. It wasn't that you didn't want to be in his arms, it was that you did. It was that everything was different now. You weren't just wrapped in the embrace of your best friend. You were wrapped in the embrace of you best friend that you have unknowingly had romantic feelings towards for who knows how long.

The feeling of his thumb rubbing small circles where your shirt had slid up let you know he was awake, but you didn't instigate any conversation.

"Been waiting for ya." His sleep filled whisper tickled your neck, a shiver running down your spine.

Your hand traveled to his arm that had made its home around your waist, your hand covering his in a comforting way. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Lando had pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, your back flush against his front.

This was definitely something friends didn't do.

"It's okay. I couldn't sleep that well without you, kept waking up."

His words made your heart race, how have you just now realized that this relationship was not normal? Before you never batted an eyelash when he talked to you like that, but now he had you a blushing mess in his arms.

"What do you do when I'm not with you?" Your words were barely above a whisper.

"Take Nyquil." He deadpanned.

You craned your neck to look back at him, laughter lacing your words. "You're joking?!"

The light from the TV illuminated his face enough for you to see the sleepy smile on his face. "I'm not joking. I honestly think I might have built up a tolerance for it because it didn't work last week."

"Good lord Lan." You stated as you rested your head back on the pillow. "Maybe you should try Melatonin instead. Pretty sure it would be safer."

A simple hum was all you got in response and after a few moments of silence you thought he had fallen back asleep. His hand that had been tracing small circles on your skin had stilled and you took that as a sign for you to go to sleep too. Your eyes hadn't been closed for maybe ten seconds when he whispered something that made your eyes fly open.

"Wouldn't have to take anything to go to sleep if I just had you with me all the time."

Your body slowly turned towards him, your faces inches apart. It was time to face the music and talk about what you two were. Even though you had wished to work through it a little more on your own before talking to Lando. He was clearly testing the waters with you and what a better time to talk about how you were in love with your best friend than when you're in bed with them?

Words scrambled around in your brain, a thousand ways to go about this existed, but you couldn't get your brain and mouth to communicate. The two of you laid there, drowning in eachothers eyes, until you could finally put together a sentence.

"What's going on with us?" Lando only cocked an eyebrow at you, his eyes scanning your face to figure out where you were going with this. "Lan." You were wanting a response from him, not a confused look.

"What are you talking about?"

A sigh came tumbling past your lips, he was going to make you be the one to say it. "Lando. Do you think the way we act towards each other is normal? Like what other friends act the way we do with each other? The way you've been with me tonight is especially not how friends should act. Imagine how weird it would be if it was Fewtrell next to me right now instead of you." You paused, knowing what you were going to say next was going to change everything, and once you said it there was no going back. "We are more than friends Lando."

His mouth opened to say something and then immediately shut. He never thought this day would come. He had realized that things were more than platonic between you two months ago, and they had been the most agonizing couple months. Him knowing that he was in love with you, but too scared to say anything incase you didn't feel the same was driving him crazy. So, he pressed the envelope with his actions and words, hoping you would open your eyes.

His silence was slowly eating away at you. Had you just dreamt up all this stuff about you guys being more than friends? Had you misinterpreted his actions towards you and now made yourself look like a fool? "Please don't tell me this is one sided. God did I just fuc-"

Lando's lips on yours took you by surprise and it took a minute for your brain to catch up to be able to kiss him back. His lips were soft and it was a much different (better) feeling than whenever he had kissed your forehead or any other place that wasn't your lips (which again, how was that platonic?). His hand had traveled up towards your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You felt light headed, never in a million years did you think you'd be kissing your best friend like this, but god did you love it. It was slightly embarrassing how you were already craving more as he pulled away, both of you with stupid smiles on your face.

"Yeah I don't think friends do that." He stated as he tried to catch his breath.

"No friends don't do that." The smile on your face still prominent as you stared at Lando.

His hand reached out for yours, your fingers interlocking causing the already prominent butterflies in your stomach to flutter even more. The two of you found your selves staring at each other once more, your eyes getting lost in the sea that was his eyes.

"Is this where we say we love each other?" Lando's words bringing you back to reality.

It wasn't uncommon for you guys to tell each other that you loved one another. In fact the last time those words were spoken was just a couple days ago. But now those three little words meant so much more, it was different now. Everything between the two of you was different now. Even if it didn't seem like that big of a deal it was, at least to you. Your teeth found the inside of your bottom lip as you plucked up the courage to say it.

"Everything is gonna be different now." Lando furrowed his eyebrows, head cocked in a questioning manner. His silence told you to continue speaking. "What I'm trying to say is yes I love you, but now those words mean so much more. We've crossed a line and there is no going back. It's gonna be different in public now, especially with your fans, and oh god we are never gonna hear the end of it from our friends. Do you think-"

Once again Lando had interrupted your rambling by smashing his lips onto yours. The action still taking you by surprise, but your reaction time had sped up significantly since the first time. This kiss was different from the first, it was more loving, slower even. It was like he was trying to calm you, reassure you about whatever you were worried about.

As he pulled away he laid flat on his back, his arms inviting you into them. With no obligation you scooted over to him, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around you. The feeling of him pressing chaste kisses to the top of your head made your eyes flutter shut, you wanted to savor this moment.

"I love you, like a lot, probably too much for my own good. And if I had to guess I would say when we've said it to each other before, deep down we knew how we really felt when we said it. So, I don't think it's any different now because how I feel about you right now is how I've felt about you the whole time. Granted it took me a little while to figure it out, but fuck Y/N. It's always been you. Always has and always will be."

You had never had someone talk about you like that and in the moment you were thankful that you weren't facing Lando or else he would see the tears welling up in your eyes.

"And everyone already thinks we are together, and my fans like you, but if you're worried about going public we don't have to, not until you're ready. I mean hell we can continue to act the way we usually do, but I'll just have to keep my lips off of you, which may be more difficult than I thought." A grin was plastered on his face as he peppered kisses all over your shoulder, giggles erupting from you at his actions.

"I know your fans like me, but to them I'm still just your best friend, I'm not with you. There is a big difference Lando. Also, it wouldn't hurt to keep it from our friends for awhile, maybe just a month or two. Do you really want to hear Max go on and on about how he was right? It will never end. We've deprived ourselves of each other for years. I just want to enjoy us, without everyone else putting their nose where it shouldn't belong.

"Alright then it's decdided."

You lifted your head from his chest. Leaning up towards him you pressed your lips against his. "I love you."

Lando returned the favor, your lips together once again. "I love you too."

Your head rested back on Lando's chest, his arms wrapped around you once more. A moment you could get used to having, the feeling of his lips though something you don't think you'll ever get used to.

"And you're right. I know Fewtrell has bets placed on us, we'd never hear the end of it." Lando's chest vibrated with laughter, and when he laughed so did you. And in that moment there was no better feeling than being in the arms of the man you loved, laughing.

So, from that moment on the two of you kept your relationship hidden. You still acted like before (two best friends who were basically together because they were secretly in love with one another). But kept your intimate moments behind closed doors.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the course of your relationship there were a couple times where you guys almost exposed the two of you. The first time was two months in, when a jealous Lando almost spilled the beans.

It was a race week, the Australian GP to be exact. It was the first race of the season that you were attending since the two of you had decided to keep your relationship a secret. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for you to be there during race weekends. Infact last season you had probably been to at least 75% of the races, so you were a well known face around the paddock and garage. But even with you being around people you knew and a familiar atmosphere, you were still slightly nervous as you walked through the paddock. This was going to be the first real test of seeing if you guys could keep your relationship under wraps. There were cameras literally every few feet, which meant no room for slip ups.

As you approached McLaren hospitality you spotted Lando outside the entrance talking to Carlos.

"Hello boys." You greeted as you approached them. Smiles beaming from both of them back at you. "Are you lost Carlos?" You joked with the Ferrari driver.

A smirk splayed across his face. "Ah just came over to see you hermosa." The Spaniard always was a flirt, especially with you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Lando tense at Carlos shamelessly flirting with you. "When are you gonna lose the papaya and come wear red?"

Rolling your eyes you couldn't help but let out a laugh at his antics, he truly had no shame in his game. "Behave Carlos."

Y/N may have found it funny, but Lando found nothing about this situation funny. And all he could do was stand here and let his ex teammate flirt with his girlfriend.

Before he got to be tortured anymore he was being whisked away to do an interview, but unfortunately for him he still had a clear view of the two of them as he sat down to do his interview.

He could barely focus on what the guy was asking him, his gaze flickering over the guys shoulder to watch you and Carlos every chance he got. He knew whatever Carlos was telling you was not that funny, there was no reason for you to be doubled over laughing.

The interviewer clearing his throat brought Lando's attention back to him. "Sorry could you repeat the question."

"Yes. I was asking after FP3 earlier how confident are you going into qualis in a few short hours?"

Lando gave some bullshit answer, his mind and gaze already wondering back to you and Carlos. His jealousy really starting to peak when Carlos put his hand on your arm as you laughed again at something he said. Lando knew you were just being friendly with Carlos and if anything his jealousy was just from the fact that he couldn't go out there and tell Carlos to fuck off and leave you alone. But when he saw Carlos' hands linger longer than they should have after a hug, the hints of red in his vision weren't from the Ferrari drivers fireproofs. God, how was he going to survive not letting every person in this place that you were his? The interview was thankfully a short one, which may have been due to his inability to focus.

He was handing off the microphone and out of the chair before they had probably stopped recording the interview. He could still see Carlos leaning against the railing outside, but you were long gone.

"Where'd Y/N go?" Lando inquired.

"Said she forgot her sunglasses in the garage earlier."

A simple nod came from Lando as he now joined Carlos in leaning against the railing. Silence had lulled between the two drivers and Lando was thankful that Carlos hadn't brought up Y/N, but seconds later he knew he had spoke too soon.

"You think she's into me?"

Lando nearly choked on his spit at the Spaniard's question. The bluntness of it took him by surprise, but the fact that Carlos really thought he had a chance with Y/N had Lando somewhat amused.

"I don't think so." Lando tried to use a normal voice, if he even knew what that was.

Carlos pushed himself off the railing. His whole body turning to face Lando, who maintained his gaze ahead, not wanting to look over at Sainz. "How do you know she's not?" What was Lando supposed to say? She's not into you because she's in love with me? He had froze up, allowing for Carlos to speak freely. "What are you in love with her or something? Not wanting to let me worm my way in?"

Lando's heartbeat quickened at the mention of him being in love with you. He racked his brain with how he could steer this conversation away from the two of you being together.

"No. She's got a boyfriend." Simple and effective he thought.

Lando still hadn't made eye contact with Carlos, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a smirk on Carlos' face. "Oh yeah who is it?"

So perhaps that wasn't the direction to steer the conversation. "I don't know."

"You're telling me your're her best friend and you don't know who she's dating?" What the hell did Lando get himself into? He had a way of always digging himself into a deeper hole when he talked, and in a situation like this he was really trying to chose his words carefully. But unfortunately for Lando, Carlos took his silence as an answer. "Well I'm taking that as you couldn't think of anyone to say. So when I ask her to dinner tonight, what would she like better? Italian? Chinese? Oh we are in Australia so what about some seafood? Sushi maybe?"

The two drivers now stood face to face as Lando's jealousy turned into irritation. "You're getting your hopes up Carlos. I told you she has a boyfriend."

"Until I have a name I don't believe you."

Lando knew he could just blurt out a random mechanics name from the team and that would pacify Carlos, but his smugness about the whole thing was just rubbing Lando the wrong way. Lando wanted to throw it in Carlos' face that you were his. Not some random guy or any other driver or mechanic's, you were his girlfriend. He knew you would be pissed about him blabbing to Carlos, exposing your relationship. In fact he would be breaking the promise that he made to you, but his judgment was clouded. And like always Lando's mouth worked faster than his brain.

"She's dating-"

"Sorry who's dating who?" Your eyes wide and heart racing as you approached the two drivers once more. You prayed Lando wasn't about ready to say what you thought he was as you stared him down.

Lando's cheeks turned scarlet as he stumbled over his words. He was thankful you showed up when you did to save him from making the mistake, but he also knew you weren't going to be happy.

"We were just talking about who you were dating." Carlos finally spoke up after watching Lando choke on every attempt at talking.

Your eyebrows raised in a fake suprisment at Lando, sarcasm dripping on every word you spoke. "Oh really?! I didn't know my love life was such a public topic? Who am I dating?"

Lando's eyes flashed back and forth between you and Carlos and as you stood there staring back at him he was already trying to telepathically apologize to you.

"He wouldn't say." Carlos stated as he glanced between Lando and you. The atmosphere was tense and he suddenly felt like he was in the middle of something he shouldn't be. He could find you later to talk, but right now he was trying to figure out how to excuse himself. "I think I'm late to an interview. I'll see you guys later."

As soon as Carlos was out of earshot you spoke, your tone hushed. "You better have a good explanation."

Lando glanced around, there were way too many people around for you two to be having this conversation here. Hell he probably shouldn't have even been talking to Carlos about you here earlier. If he would have told Carlos about the two of you, ten other people probably would have heard too. Grabbing your hand he led you through hospitality doors, down a small hallway, and then suddenly you were in what looked to be a storage room. McLaren merch was strewn about and various snacks and drinks lined the counters.

As you heard the lock on the door click you turned to see Lando leaning against it. No words were exchanged, you only raised your eyebrows at him, indicating for him to explain himself.

Lando pushed himself off the door, his hands reaching out for you to hold. When you only gave him a blank expression, he wiggled his fingers, emphasizing his want.

"Baby." The slight smile on his face didn't match the whiny questioning tone of his voice. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you placed your hands in his, fingers intertwining as he pulled you closer to him. "I'm sorry. I let my jealousy get the better of me. I couldn't stand looking at Carlos shamelessly flirt with you. Then once you left he was talking to me about asking you out and he just wouldn't let up. It was driving me crazy, I just wanted to tell him to fuck off, that you were mine. And clearly I almost did until you walked up."

His eyes scanned your face for any indication that you weren't completely pissed off at him, but to his surprise your lips were on his. It was a quick kiss, his brain barely comprehending it was happening before you were pulling away, only making him desperate for more.

"I'm not mad, it just took me by surprise when I walked up and that was coming out of your mouth. I also knew he was flirting with me, why do you think I finally left? I could only play nice for so long, so I made up the excuse of me leaving my sunglasses in the garage." You paused, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. A small smile washed across Lando's face as he leaned into your touch. "Just please from now try and keep your jealousy in check? I've liked these past couple months with just us two, not us two and millions of other people. Plus, you have nothing to be jealous about. I love you. Not Carlos or Charles or-"

Lando's eyes widened. "Wait how many other drivers have been flirting with you?"

"It's not important. All I was trying to say is that I love you and only you!"

Lando scoffed, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I love you too baby, but I'm gonna have to hide you or something. I don't think my heart can take seeing all these guys fawn over you."

Your hand reached up to his hair, your fingers running through his mop of curls. While his hands were placed firmly on your hips, his fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt. "You'll survive pretty boy."

"Oh so you think I'm pretty?" Lando teased as he leaned in to satisfy his desire to taste your lips after the tease of a kiss moments ago.

"Yes, but you're my pretty boy."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The second time your relationship was almost exposed was entirely your fault. Getting wasted + missing your boyfriend = blabbing to your friends.

To say perhaps you had been neglecting your friends since being with Lando was an understatement. Always denying their invites out because you were either working, going to a race, or saying you were working when really you were with Lando.

You had been trying to make plans for over a month with your friends, but it never seemed like anyone's schedule lined up, until this weekend. It was an off week for Lando and he had suggested that your friends and you have a girls weekend in Monaco, even saying you guys could stay at his apartment. Though, to you, a hotel sounded safer. You had way too much of your stuff at his place for it to seem like anything platonic.

So, here you guys were, getting ready in a hotel not even ten minutes away from Lando's apartment. Music playing in the background as you rummaged through your suitcase for the perfect outfit for tonight. Laughter erupting from everyone as you recalled funny memories from past nights out. It felt good to be with them again, you had missed this, missed them.

Work had been absolutely draining you these past couple weeks, deadlines and unread emails haunted your dreams. You had even been so busy that you had to miss Lando's race last week. It had been almost two weeks since you had even seen him. Facetime being your main form of communication as of recently. But tonight wasn't about Lando, it was about going out and having a good time with your friends. Although, someone should have told drunk you that.

You're all piling into an Uber before you know it, skirts and dresses slightly too short, but no one cared because that's the fun of it all. The conversation consists of who's going to get the most drunk and from the pregaming that took place back at the hotel it could be anyone. It then shifts to who might go home with someone tonight and of course because you've been 'single' the longest everyone says you need to be the one to. And of course you play along saying "Honestly I need to. It's been awhile since I've gotten any action."

Which wasn't a lie, you hadn't seen Lando in two weeks. Your work being primarily based in London and him being in another country for almost a week. Then this weekend being a girls weekend had provided less than enough time for you guys to even talk on the phone, let alone fool around.

"Well we are in Monaco. Let's pray our girl bags a hot millionaire." Your friend stated.

Already accomplished that.

The bass from the music rattles in your chest as you walk through the club with your friends in tow. The bar is of course the first stop, you open a tab and tell the girls to get what they want. You decide on a rum and coke, you weren't planning on going absolutely crazy tonight, but a couple of these plus the pregaming at the hotel would have you feeling happy tonight.

"Let's dance!" One of your friends shouts as she's already heading into the swarm of bodies.

You swayed your body to the beat, it felt good to finally let loose and have some fun. Your eyes closed as you got lost in the music, warmness radiating through you from the alcohol in your veins, but also the other dancing bodies around you.

As the night progressed so had your alcohol consumption. You honestly weren't planning on going this hard, but everything was just going down so smoothly and you were having such a good time. But you knew as your friend brought over everyone a double round of tequila shots you were done for. You were a big girl and you could have said no, but you were already so inebriated at that point the idea of saying no never crossed your mind. Only I'm gonna regret this in the morning as you said bottoms up.

Before you knew it you were wasted and as your friends tried to rally you so you all could leave you were proving to be a little more than difficult. It didn't help that your friends, although not as gone as you, were also clearly drunk. They had somehow managed to get you outside amidst your protests that the 'night was still young', at two in the morning.

You were trying to stand upright as you waited for your friend to get an Uber, but apparently to you the pavement looked more comfortable and down you went. Your knees and arms were scraped up, but you didn't feel anything, at all. You were practically floating at this point, one more shot and you would have been at black out level.

"Ok. Just sit on the curb. It's gonna be a minute for the Uber." Your least drunk friend said as she clamped a hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting back up.

"Ugh. Just call my boyfriend he can come get us." In your drunken state you hadn't realized what you had said.

"Your boyfriend!? Who's your boyfriend?" You had the attention of all your friends now.

Pulling your phone out of your clutch you thanked the Apple Gods for face id because there was no way you could have put in your passcode. Getting to your recent calls was easier said than done and at one point you had accidently called your Mom. "Oops. Sorry Mom." You giggled. Your fingers and brain weren't working in sync so you resorted to Siri, which was not a good idea either.

"Siri call Lando."

Your friends necks nearly broke from how fast they turned them towards your phone.

"Sorry I didn't get that." Siri chimed off

"Siri call Lando Norris."

Failed.

"Siri call Laaanndoooo."

Failed again.

"Siri-"

"Ok enough. I'll just call him. Uber cancelled on me anyways." Your friend stated as she held her phone up to her ear. "Hey Lando. It's Y/F/N. Yeah sorry for calling so late. No everything's ok it's just that our Uber cancelled and Y/N mentioned something about you being able to come get us? If not it's fine- Oh ok great thanks. We are at the club with the big neon sign on the front. Yeah ok see you in a couple minutes."

"Who was that?" You asked as your friend hung up the phone.

She sat down next you on the curb, her arm wrapping around your shoulders, your head leaning to rest on her shoulder. "Lando. He's coming to get us."

Your eyes widened as your head perked up at the mention of his name. "Oh good. I've missed him!"

Your friends all exchanged questioning glances. Not sure if Lando was the boyfriend you had mentioned, if you were so drunk that you thought Lando was your boyfriend, or if they were so drunk that they had misinterpreted what you were saying. They all had always said that you two had to be together, that you had to have feelings for him, but in this drunken instance they weren't sure what to believe. The saying drunk words are sober thoughts worked in this situation, but they too were drunk, so who was the wiser?

As Lando pulled up to the club he could see you sitting on the curb with your friend, your other friends hovering behind you. Putting the car in park he got out and made his way across the street to you. He wasn't sure what state you were in, but from the scrapes on your knees, glossy eyes, and overly enthusiastic yelling when he approached he knew you weren't just tipsy.

"Lan!" You yelled when you saw him crossing the street. You tried to get up, but your legs gave out. Luckily for you Lando's arms were wrapped around you before you hit the pavement again. "Careful. Think you might've went a little too hard tonight huh?" His cologne invaded your senses, combine that with the hoodie and sweats he had on and all you wanted to do was be in his arms tonight. "Hi guys." He greeted your friends, who were all taking in the scene in front of them. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Lando and you to be close like this, but after what came tumbling out of your mouth earlier they were second guessing everything. "Come on let's get you guys back to the hotel."

Lando had to help you into the car and then buckle you in while your friends piled in the back seat. "I don't wanna go to the hotel I wanna go to yours." A pout planted firmly on your face.

Ignoring your plea Lando closed the passenger side door and walked back to the drivers side. The car wasn't even a couple minutes from the club and you had passed out, small snores coming from you.

"Are you guys together?" Your friend's question made Lando's heart skip a beat. His eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, your friends eyes staring back at him made his heart race even more.

"No. Why?" He prayed his tone was normal and not one of a man keeping said relationship a secret.

"She pretty much said you were her boyfriend."

Fuck. He knew she was drunk, but not that drunk to blab about their relationship. He racked his brain on how to spin this around.

"Unfortunately I'm not." Maybe admitting to her friends that he wanted to be with her, but wasn't, might work?

"What do you mean unfortunately you're not? Is this you finally admitting to what we have all known already?" Another friend asked.

Lando glanced over to you in the passenger seat. Your head leaning against the window, hair frizzy, the smell of tequila radiating off of you. Even in your drunken mess he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. "Maybe. I'm just afraid I can't give her what she needs." His eyes flickered back to the rearview mirror, questioning looks stared back at him, encouraging him to continue. "I can't always be there 24/7 like a normal boyfriend. Yeah she can travel with me, but she has a life and a job too. I wouldn't want her to lose that aspect of herself just to be with me. I wouldn't want her to think that she came second in my life, because even now right now she doesn't."

What Lando had said was true, it was a insecurity, hell even a fear that he's had for quite some time. The idea of him not being enough for you scared him. The fact that maybe one day you would grow tired of the inconsistency and leave him made him sick. He tried to be the best boyfriend he could, but some days he was so busy that he was lucky to send you a couple texts. It was hard having a career that he loved be so much of his life, something that at this point was a literal part of him. But on the other hand, you were also a part of him. He never wanted you to feel like you came second in his life, because at the end of the day racing doesn't last forever, and he wanted you to be the one that was still there after he took his last lap.

"If that's all that is holding you back from telling her how you feel then you're stupid. How long have you guys been in each other's lives? She's used to your crazy schedule and half the time she makes it work and is with you. She may deny it every time we bring it up, but she's in love with you Lando. Don't let the one person who would literally go to hell and back for you slip away because you're afraid of what might happen."

As the car stopped in front of the hotel Lando turned back to look at your friend. "Clearly you didn't drink as much as Y/N."

"I'm being serious Lando. Tell her." A serious look plastered on her face as your two other friends had started to exit the vehicle. Lando had unbuckled your seatbelt, but you were too knocked out to notice. "Just take her back to your place, it's where she wanted to go anyways. But I swear when we meet up tomorrow and you two aren't together I'm gonna strangle you Norris!"

She had joined your other friends on the sidewalk as Lando rolled down your window to talk to her. "She's completely wasted. I'm not telling her tonight."

"Well then in the morning! Either way you better do it!" Your friend hollered before they all gave him a wave goodbye and made their way into the hotel.

With a sigh Lando rolled your window back up and reached over to buckle you back in. Stirring slightly, you turned in the seat as Lando's hands brushed over you. "We're going home baby girl."

Music played softly on the radio as he drove the winding streets back to his apartment. It seemed like the act had worked on your friends. That you two were still the stubborn lovesick fools to them and not two people hiding their relationship.

By the time Lando had parked the car back at his apartment you had woke up. Something he was grateful for because (though he would never say this outloud) you were an absolute pain to wake up sober, let alone drunk.

"Come on baby, we're home." Lando stood in front of the passenger side, hands out to help you out of the car. A groan came from you as you dramatically swung your legs out, grabbing ahold of Lando's hands he helped you out the rest of the way. With his arm securely around your waist the two of you made your way to the elevator. "My knees hurt." You whined as you walked (stumbled).

"Yeah it seems that you took a nasty tumble." Lando shuffled you into the elevator, pressing the button for his floor with his free hand. You glanced down at your knees, even with your blurry vision you could see the dried blood. "Your arms too. Gonna have to wrap you in bubble wrap next time you go out."

You slowly lifted your arms as you tried to focus your vision to get a good look at them. But it was the same as your knees all you could see was blurry dried blood. "Well shit." You sighed, head falling onto Lando's shoulder.

As soon as you got into the apartment Lando was already bent down in front of you. Your hands on his shoulders as he helped you out of your heels.

"Come on we've got to get you cleaned up." His arm was back around your waist as he led you towards the bathroom. As you sat on the toilet seat lid you waited patiently for Lando to grab the first aid kit. Sleep was creeping its way back in as you sat there, your eyelids feeling heavy. You hadn't even realized you had dozed off until the feeling of a warm washcloth on your knees woke you up. As Lando gently cleaned your knees and arms you watched him. Even in your drunken state you heart couldn't help but swell at him taking care of you. Once he had cleaned and bandaged your injuries he grabbed your makeup wipes from one of the drawers. Your eyes fluttering shut as he did his best to remove your makeup, giggling as he cursed your waterproof mascara.

"Ok time to wash your face."

You had tried to get up to go to the sink, but his large hands pushed you back down. "I don't need you falling again, just stay put."

So you sat there as he applied your face wash, making sure to get the remaining remnants of your makeup off. And as he was applying your moisturizer you couldn't help but stare at him with adorning eyes. You were so utterly in love with him it made you sick. This wasn't the first time he had taken care of you like this, but this was the first time since you'd realized you loved him. And in this moment his actions just simply meant so much more to you than they ever did back then.

"I love you." You said as he rubbed in the last little bit of moisturizer.

His eyes met yours as he looked down at you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Love you too baby."

He helps you brush your teeth and then seconds later you're crawling into bed. "Nope. I love you, but you are not cuddling up to me tonight in that scratchy dress." He throws some of your pajamas at you as a groan came from you. "Come on dress off."

"Jeez at least take me out to dinner first Norris." You joked as you slowly got off the bed. A smirk toyed at his lips as he rolled his eyes at you. "Are you gonna unzip it for me or?" Lando wasted no time, his fingers pulling the tiny zipper down. As the fabric fell to the ground he placed a chaste kiss on your shoulder, a sign of affection rather than sexual desire.

Thankfully you were able to dress yourself as you were slowly sobering up. Climbing back into bed you were greeted with Lando who had already took his hoodie off and was waiting for you to crawl into his arms, an offer you gladly took.

"I've missed you. I've missed this." You stated as you got settled into his embrace.

A kiss was placed on your temple. "Me too."

You were asleep within minutes, Lando not long after. But when you awoke the next morning with a hangover from hell some things that had slipped your mind came to light as the sun rose. Like the fact that you were out with your friends last night, but had somehow ended up at Lando's.

When Lando woke up he explained everything to you, about how you blabbed and how he hopefully convinced them that you weren't together. That he was just a lovesick fool who wanted to be with you. "They are gonna be expecting us to be together or at least expect me to have confessed my love when we go to lunch later." He was leaned against the headboard, your head in his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"Do you think they even remember?" You asked.

"They weren't as drunk as you, so most definitely."

You lifted your head up to look at him. "Well, just because they are expecting it doesn't mean it has to happen."

So when you guys went to lunch your friends heads perked up when they saw the two of you, hopeful glances shared between them.

"So any news to share from last night or recently?" One of your friends asks as you're browsing the menu. Thankfully the menu covered your face at the moment, because you were trying so hard not to laugh at her question.

You played along though, acting like it was a regular conversation starter. "If you consider me deciding to never go out again after last night news then sure. I've got a hangover from hell."

You weren't even looking, but you could sense your friends eyes darting towards Lando, and a slight jostle from under the table was undoubtedly one of your friends kicking Lando.

"Although, it's still considered brunch hours, maybe I'll get a mimosa. Always heard nothing like getting over a hangover by drinking more." Acting like the tension between Lando and your friends was nonexistent you continued talking. "What are you guys thinking? The turkey club sounds good."

Lando on the other hand was fighting for his life. Between the stares and his now sore shin, he was wishing he would have never came. His phone vibrated on the table and as he picked it up it was a text from one of your friends and it only said one word.

y/f/n: chicken!!!!

At least his cover up worked last night, now hopefully they could just make it through this lunch.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The third time, technically you both were to blame, but you both blamed each other.

The unrelenting sun beat down on Lando as he climbed out of the car after probably the worst FP3 of his career. Granted it was only a practice run, but if this was how the car was going to perform in the actual race then he was done for. Not to mention this was his home race, which any driver wants to perform well in. There was a heatwave at Silverstone this weekend, one of the contributing factors in his shit practice run. The others; absolutely no grip on the tires, sweltering temperatures in the cockpit, and the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about you. Specifically how you looked in the garage before he went out for FP3.

From the get-go this morning when you put on that papaya (let's be real it was orange) tank top that cupped your breasts just right he knew today was going to be a long day. Then when he saw you in the garage the only thing he could think about was taking you back to his drivers room and fucking you till you couldn't walk. The slight sheen of sweat on your skin from the boiling sun gave you a glowing look, that goddamn tank top, and your hair tied up in a ponytail had basically given him a semi. But it was something he could mark off his "insane things to happen while in a race car" list.

1. have a hard on while driving.

As he walked into the garage he was thankful his race suit was slightly baggy in the groin area. When his race engineer started to go over data and possible strategy everything went in one ear and out the other, his mind preoccupied with only down right nasty thoughts about you. His grip on the table that he leaned on getting tighter with each passing moment. He didn't dare glance in your direction, afraid that his slight issue would turn into a full blown one.

You on the other hand were oblivious to how Lando was feeling at the moment. You thought the strained look on his face was from the heat and the not so great practice, not from him wanting to bend you over the first chance he could get. You hadn't even realized Lando was done talking to Will, too engrossed in your phone, until you felt Lando's grip on your arm.

His eyes were like saucers as you looked up at him. His tone was demanding yet he spoke softly to you as he didn't want anyone else to hear. "Come on."

Not one to oblige, you quickly following behind him to where you soon realized was to his drivers room. You figured he wanted to rant or just relax for a little bit before qualifying, but oh boy were you proven wrong as soon as Lando closed the door.

"You've been driving me fucking crazy all day." The almost animalistic tone of his voice went straight through you. His eyes dark as he made his way over to you, hands harshly gripping your waist. Your words were caught in your throat as you stood there, wide eyes staring back at Lando. "Oh don't act like you didn't wear that tank top on purpose. You knew the way it makes your tits look would drive me crazy."

His fingertips traced along the low neckline of your tank top, his touch causing a shiver to run up your spine. A smirk developed on his face as his fingertips traveled up the straps, your neck, and finally landing on your ponytail. His long slender fingers wrapped around it, and you knew what he was about to do, but that still didn't stop the moan that came barreling out of you when he tugged on your ponytail.

"You little slut you liked that didn't you?" Now it was your turn to smirk at him, a small laugh even escaped past your lips, which you knew would go straight through him. "You think this is funny huh? Think I should teach you a lesson."

In an instant his lips are on yours. It's messy and rushed, teeth clashing as he's guiding you towards his physio table. When the back of your legs hit the table he wastes no time in lifting you up onto it. His hands are already tugging at your tank top as he stands between your legs. You break apart just long enough to let him basically rip your shirt off and then his lips are back on yours. His hands had migrated from your hips to your breasts, rolling and pinching your nipples with his fingertips. The stimulation going straight to your core as he swallowed your moans.

Grabbing at his fireproofs you tried to pull him as close as possible to you. You could already feel how wet you were getting, your desire for him growing more by the minute. As he's attacking your neck you reach down and undo the button of your shorts and somehow shimmy them off while still sitting.

"That desperate for me huh? Undressing yourself?" He whispered in your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

"Only for you." You words breathy as he soothes the spot on your collarbone that will need to be covered in the morning.

Almost like a natural reflex your hips start rolling towards Lando, impatience setting in. All you want is for him to touch you and clearly he got the signal. His hand moved down to your clothed core, fingertips ghosting along it.

Whines emitting from you as you rocked your hips towards his hand. "Lan please."

"You gotta tell me what you want baby girl." His pupils blown as he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"I want you to fuck me with your fingers." He felt his already painfully hard cock twitch at your words. No matter how many times you guys fucked, he was always surprised at how filthy your mouth was.

And as the natural born pleaser that he was, he pushed your panties to the side and immediately ran his fingers through your drenched folds. "Fuck baby your soaked."

You leaned back on the table to give him better access and as he slipped the first two fingers in your head fell back. Your moans echoing through the room as his fingers slide in an out of you.

"You gotta be quiet." He says as he adds a third finger.

His thumb works your clit and as his fingers curl up and find that spot that makes you see stars your biting down on his shoulder to try and keep quiet. You can feel yourself getting close, that pit in your stomach growing as those long fingers of his somehow repeatedly hit your g-spot. Lando can tell your close just from the way your breathing.

"Come on baby. Gonna be a good girl and come all over my fingers?"

His words of praise only adding to the the pleasure you were feeling right now. And Lando couldn't help but let out a chuckle at your walls clenching around his fingers as he praised you. Seconds later your coming undone, moans muffled by Lando's shoulder as your orgasm washes over you. His fingers continue to work even through your orgasm, something he always did. Always teetering on the line of overstimulation with you.

But this time he doesn't eventually let up, he's got you pushed all the way back on the table with your legs wide open. His free hand has you basically pinned to the table as he's relentlessly pumping his fingers into you, thumb still circling that small bundle of nerves. Your squirming under him, legs shaking as he teases you with his hushed words.

"Awe can my baby not take it? You want me to stop?"

You can barely think straight, every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire. The sound of his fingers in your wet cunt is borderline sinful. He's got a devilish grin on his face as he starts to slow his fingers, and you remember you didn't answer his question. The pitiful 'don't stop' that you're able get out is sufficient enough for Lando and he goes back to that same toe curling pace.

Lando knows your coming before you do, he knows your body like the back of his hand. The way your walls clench around his fingers and how your breathing gets rigid tells him you're on the edge. With one final curl of his fingers your back is arching as your hands grip the sides of the table. You were sure that you were speaking in tongues, the pleasure so intense you don't even realize how loud your being until Lando's got his hand clamped over your mouth. Eyes wide as he's shushing you, but he's removed his fingers from your cunt and decided to solely focus on your clit, and you think you might die if he tries to give you three orgasms back to back like that.

Lando can feel his cock throbbing in his race suit as he looks at how wrecked he's got you with just his fingers. He knows he can give you another orgasm without even using his cock, he knows you can take it, but his desire to be buried so deep into your pussy that you can feel him in your stomach overrides his pleaser mentality.

He lets you squirm for a few more moments before taking his hand away. His fingers immediately entering his mouth as he licks them clean. You watch him through hooded eyes, chest heaving as you’re trying to come down from your back to back orgasms. The desire for his mouth to be attached to your throbbing clit growing as you watch him. You knew you were being greedy, but you also knew he’d do it if you asked him. The man loved nothing more than being between your thighs. Always thinking that if he died while eating your pussy at least he’d die doing something he loved. And you thought you’d be getting your wish until he’s tugging his race suit down the rest of the way, fireproofs following after.

His cock slaps against his stomach as soon as it's free and you truly don't think you'll ever get used to just how thick it is. Your pussy already fluttering at the thought of him stretching you out. His hands are grabbing at your ankles, pulling you towards the edge of the table. And you don't realize just how much of a mess you had made on it until your ass is basically gliding over the table. Your lips collide for a brief moment as you resume your previous position of sitting on the edge of the table. His tongue exploring your mouth as your hand reaches down to his cock. The simple action of your thumb running over his tip had him moaning into your mouth, his hips bucking towards your hand.

In one swift motion he's got you bent over the table and you're practically dripping with anticipation. Lando's got one hand gripping your waist and his painfully hard cock in the other. The small moan that you let out just by him rubbing his tip between your folds is like music to his ears. Usually he would tease you, but he'd been thinking about this exact moment all damn day, he wasn't going to waste any time teasing. You're both trying to be quiet, but the feeling of just him pushing the tip in has both of you gasping. The feeling of him stretching you out is one of your favorite things in the world. How you can feel every inch of him, feel the vein on the underneath side of his cock, the slight curve in it that always hits your g-spot, it was like a drug that you couldn't get enough of.

By the time he's bottomed out and gotten you nice and accustomed to him he's ready to be absolutely feral. He leans down to your ear, his hands roaming your body as he speaks. "You gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna take my cock like the good little slut you are?" All you can do is whimper in response, but that's all he needs to hear. His large hands are on your waist in an instant and he slowly starts to build up his pace.

He can't help but be mesmerized by how your pussy engulfs his cock as he fucks you. He gets lost in it, his brain (and cock) pussy drunk, and soon enough he's ramming into you so hard that the table is hitting the wall. You're trying so hard to stifle your moans, but he's fucking you like he hates you and you can't get enough of it. You're sure someone has heard you, and if not with your moans then they've got to hear the physio table banging against the wall. And you know this is the moment that is gonna expose your relationship, but you don't even care because he's fucking you so good right now.

When Lando reaches up and grabs your now very messy ponytail and yanks on it at the same time as him hitting your g-spot you couldn't even try to hold in your moan. That in turn got a reaction out of Lando. "You've gotta be quiet pretty girl. You don't want someone to walk in now do you?" He's still got ahold of your ponytail and he lifts your head slightly as he speaks to you. "But I bet you'd probably like that huh? You'd like for everyone to hear how good I'm making you feel. How you're taking my cock so well. Bet you'd even like if someone walked in on us wouldn't you my little slut?" His words made your walls clench around him, which earned a 'fuck' from him.

That familiar feeling in your stomach had started to appear and after the two orgasms earlier you knew you couldn't hold it off for very long. If it wasn't for the table beneath you, your legs would have given out a long time ago.

"Lan I'm close." You were barely able to get that out. You were so fucked out you could barely keep your eyes open, let alone speak.

Lando was close himself, his pace slightly faltering. "I know baby. I'm almost there."

Your toes are curling as your trying to hold it together, but you're beyond overstimulated at this point, it doesn't help that he's reached down and started to rub circles on your clit. Your brain is practically scrambled, the pleasure becoming almost painful, tears start to form in your eyes.

"Lan-" Is all you can squeak out before your third orgasm for the night comes washing over you. Your body damn near convulses on the table as your vision goes white. Lando has to put an arm under you to keep you up right, your body so overstimulated it had given out.

"Oh my god!" You couldn't keep it together, because yet again he was fucking you through your orgasm.

You don't even hear the knock on the door or the person on the other side speak until you hear Lando shout. "I'm fine mate!"

"You sick fuck I know what you're doing!"

A familiar Australian accent filled your ears.

"Go away Oscar." Lando yells as he's still pounding into you, tears steadily streaming down your cheeks.

"I'm looking for Y/N. Have you seen her? She has my sunglasses."

Fuck. You had forgotten about him asking you to hold onto them. And if you remembered correctly you had them on your shirt, the same shirt that Lando practically ripped off of you. You both glanced down at the floor to see Oscar's sunglasses next to your shirt. Oops.

"She's probably in hospitality. Now leave."

You don't know if Oscar responded or if he had even left because the feeling of Lando finally coming undone had spurred on your fourth and final orgasm. Silent screams came from you, your throat raw, your body exhausted. You had never experienced this much pleasure in your life. If you had to describe it in one word you would have to say euphoric.

Lando's hips had finally came to a stop, sweat dripping off him as he tried to catch his breath. If he said this was the best sex of his life he would not be lying. You were both so fucked out, you much more than him, the idea of the fast approaching qualifying on neither of your minds. He stayed inside you for quite some time as his hands caressed your body, especially the spots that he know would be bruised in the morning. Sweet nothings were whispered in your ear, he knew this was a lot for you, but he was so proud of you for taking it so well and he wanted you to know that.

When he finally pulled out the sight of his cum dripping out of you was damn near pornographic. A image that would definitely be apart of his future wet dreams, but when he heard a whimper come from you he was brought back to reality. "I know baby. I'm right here." He's got you in his arms in an instant and a gentle kiss pressed to your lips.

He's got you both cleaned up as best as he can and got you wrapped back up in his arms as quickly as he can. He thinks maybe he shouldn't have gone this hard here, should have done this at home where he could have ran you a bath or something more loving, but his worries dissipate when you speak up.

"There is no way Oscar didn't know I was in here. So I guess if this is how we let everyone know about us. At least it was enjoyable."

Lando laughs a little at her optimism. "We've always somehow made it through our mishaps unscathed. So I'm sure we will this time."

And somehow by what you two would consider a miracle you do. Oscar never mentions anything to the two of you about that day and neither does anyone else. In all reality you knew Oscar probably knew and everyone else in a mile radius, but they just kept it to themselves. Probably figuring it was too awkward to bring up, but whatever the reason you were thankful and somehow incredibly lucky.

But from that day forward you couldn't step foot in Lando's driver room without thinking of the events that took place on that hot July day at Silverstone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

By the time summer break had arrived the both of you were very much surprised that your relationship was still private. Looking back at all your mishaps and slips of the tongue, it was a miracle the whole world didn't know by now. The two of you had recently discussed the idea of launching your relationship, but you were honestly content with how things had been.

So, you decided to let it happen organically. You guys would continue to have a private relationship, but if there was a slip of the tongue you two wouldn't try to back peddle and save your asses. The both of you agreeing that it was going to happen sooner or later, so it was better to just accept what the universe had wanted to happen so many times before. Although, you just didn't think that it was going to happen the way it did.

How would an F1 driver spend a Friday night while on his summer break? Going out? On vacation? Going out while on vacation? All wrong if you are Lando Norris.

On a beautiful Friday night in August you were sat between Lando and Max on a stream, reading through the chat as they talked about something undoubtedly dumb.

One comment caught your eye, you laughed as you read it aloud. "When I show up to a yapping contest but Lando and Max are my opponents."

Their conversation halted, both of them faking offence. "Don't let Y/N fool you guys. She's the biggest yapper out of us three." Lando stated.

"I am not!"

All three of you now in a yapping contest, each person trying to defend themselves. A moment that will surely be clipped and used as a reaction video on Twitter before the stream is over.

Though the conversation quickly moved on as you guys tried to decide what to do. Max had promised it wouldn't just be a sit and chat stream, yet that is all you guys had done for the past thirty minutes. "Ok chat, let us know what you want us to do. We are at your mercy on this Friday night." You stated, eyes scanning the screen as people's ideas started to pour in.

user1: play f124!

user2: cinnamon challenge lmao

That one caught your eye, laughter lacing your words. "Cinnamon challenge? What is this 2012?"

user3: take funny quizzes

user4: mukbang!!!!

user5: yes mukbang!! we need a repeat of the famous 2022 mukbang stream.

You chuckled at the mention of the previous mukbang the three of you did. It was one of Max's most viewed streams, which you never understood why. All you guys did was stuff your face and attempt some very bad ASMR. But people still used clips from it to this day on Twitter. Nonetheless, you were always down for a good feast, your mind already running through what you should get.

Raising your eyebrows you glanced back and forth between Max and Lando. "Mukbang?"

Lando and Max's eyes lit up at your propsition. "Let's do it."

"Ok chat. Mukbang 2024 will commence shortly." You stated as Max pulled out his phone to see what sounded good. You leaned over to look as he scrolled through the options. When your favorite Sushi place popped up he immediately stopped scrolling, your eyes meeting in a knowing glance. No words were spoken as you both shook your heads yes. You both knew Lando would be pissed, but you didn't care. You hadn't had it in so long, your mouth was practically watering at the thought of it.

"Ok. We are getting sushi." You didn't even look in Lando's direction as you spoke, you could just imagine the disgusted look on his face.

"Ugh. No!" His complaint fell on deaf ears as Max and you were already placing your order. "Guys please why don't we do pizza or something?"

"Two against one mate. You want your usual spring rolls?" Max glanced up from his phone, eyebrow raised in question towards Lando.

And like a child Lando leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. "I guess." No matter how hard he tried to like fish, he just couldn't stomach it. In fact, he had tried it multiple times since you had been in his life, thinking if the women he loved liked fish then maybe he could learn to like it. But each time he was running for the toilet seconds later.

"Should be a good stream guys, it'll just be Lando freaking out the whole time." You teased, gently nudging his side with your elbow. An eye roll was all you got from him. "Oh come on you know I love you."

You could see the downturned corners of his mouth start to slowly turn upward as he tried to fight the smile that was wanting to break free. A slight blush had formed on his cheeks as the smile you loved so dearly spread across his face. You two, even before getting together, always told one another you loved them. So it was truly no big deal, you had done it in public, it wasn't a foreign concept. But for some reason the chat was going ballistic over it tonight.

user1: "friends" my ass

user2: try not to smile like an idiot when your "best friend" tells you they love you challenge. level impossible for lando

user3: i too would be a smiling blushing mess if Y/N told me she loved me

user4: max is third wheeling tonight i see.

You just laughed and shook your head. At least people were being nice and it seemed like they liked the idea of the two of you being together.

While you waited for the food to arrive you three answered some questions and chatted about random things, even recalling some funny memories between the three of you. Just as you were in the middle of a funny story that involved Lando and two birds there was a knock on the door.

Seconds later there was an array of takeout containers in front of you, mouth watering as you wasted no time in digging in. Lando on the other hand sat there with his spring rolls, trying to ignore the pieces of raw fish that were inches away from him.

"You wanna try? I got a California roll for you just incase you were feeling adventurous." You asked Lando, a piece tucked between your chopsticks as you held it up towards him. Furiously shaking his head no, he stuffed his mouth with a bite of spring roll. "It's like a starter roll for sushi newbies, can't even tell that there is crab in it. I promise."

"I can tell believe me. Remember when you had me try crab rangoons?" Yes, you did remember it because he was gagging after the first bite.

"Fine. More for me and Max." You popped the piece of sushi into your mouth, accepting that he was never going to like seafood or anything seafood adjacent.

As Lando watched you eat a piece that had a huge thing of raw fish on top his face twisted in disgust. At the same time you glanced over at him, wanting to ask him how his spring rolls were. But the words that came out of his mouth first erased any thought about spring rolls.

"Just so you know I am not kissing you for at least 24 hours."

Lando hadn't even realized he had said that out loud until Max started choking on his piece of sushi. The realization of what he had just said and what he had just done came washing over him. His cheeks turning crimson as he made eye contact with your wide eyes, the same crimson color painted across your cheeks.

"I'm sorry. Why would you be kissing Y/N?" Max's cheeks were red too, but his was from choking, not exposing his relationship on stream.

Lando and you having not broken eye contact simply shrugged at one another, remembering your conversation about no back peddling, no trying to save your asses anymore. So if the universe wanted your relationship to be public over Lando being grossed out over sushi, then so be it.

The both of you looked over at Max, sheepish grins plastered across your faces. "Surprise!" You said meekly.

Max's eyes flickered back and forth between his two friends, trying to figure out if this was some prank or if what he had suspected for years had finally come true. Lando's hand reaching out for yours under the table caught his gaze and in that moment Max knew it was true. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! Finally, I mean I was about ready to set you two down and force you to be together." Max had jumped up from his seat, excitement overtaking him. "How long?"

"Around seven months." Lando mumbled.

Max's eyes widened a shocked look on his face. "You've kept it from everyone for seven months?"

Lando muted the stream as you and him explained everything to Max, still wanting to keep some things private. Knowing surely Max's reactions to what you guys were telling him would be haunting him for years to come.

Meanwhile the chat was going insane.

user1: holy shit!!

user2: i mean are we surprised. they've been married in my head for years.

user3: 2022 mukbang found dead. 2024 mukbang you will always be famous

user4: the fact they even kept it a secret from their friends... guess that works when you've acted like you were together for years..

user5: need me a love like lando and y/n

user6: the way this is such a y/n and lando way for them to expose their relationship lmfao.

user7: wait... so this means y/n is off the market? lando norris can you fight?

You would have never thought this is how you would announce that you guys were together. But somehow it made sense for the two of you in your own weird way. One thing you did know was that the chat was right. 2024 mukbang stream will always be famous.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"We need to talk about yesterday Lan."

"Yeah I guess we do."

You removed your head from his chest, choosing to sit up and face him. "It's just that last night was a little crazy and then," your eyes glanced over to the trail of clothes on the floor "it got even crazier when we got home. We never actually discussed how we feel about us being public now."

Lando's hands reached out for yours, fingers interlacing. "Well let me just say I'm sorry for having a brain and mouth that don't communicate sometimes. But I don't regret saying it. Like we have discussed, clearly it was meant to happen in that moment, even as unserious as it was. Yes, some things are gonna be different, people are gonna pry and feel entitled to our business, but that doesn't change how I feel about you. I love you and honestly I'm glad I can hold your hand in public now." He pulled your smiling face closer to his, a matching grin plastered on his. "And if I feel like it, I'll kiss you in public too!"

He smashed his lips onto yours as you laughed into the kiss. His hands started to roam your body and before it could go any further you pulled away. "As long as I've got you by my side I think everything will be alright." Your hand caressed his face, his stubble tickling your hand. "I love you so much, never forget that Norris."

"I won't."

Later that day the two of you decided to both make a post on Instagram to officially announce your relationship, with the most unserious captions.

y/insta: finally got my kiss ♡ (after i brushed my teeth)

landonorris: i love you ♡ (but not your love for sushi)

[inkskinned]

i love when words fit right. seize was always supposed to be that word, and so was jester. tuesday isn't quite right but thursday should be thursday, that's a good word for it. daisy has the perfect shape to it, almost like you're laughing when you say it; and tulip is correct most of the time. while keynote is fun to say, it's super wrong - i think they have to change the label for that one. but fox is spot-on.

most words are just, like, good enough, even if what they are describing is lovely. the night sky is a fine term for it but it isn't perfect the way november is the correct term for that month.

it's not just in english because in spanish the phrase eso si que es is correct, it should be that. sometimes other languages are also better than the english words, like how blue is sloped too far downwards but azul is perfect and hangs in the air like glitter. while butterfly is sweet, i think probably papillion is more correct, although for some butterflies féileacán is much better. year is fine but bliain is better. sometimes multiple languages got it right though, like how jueves and Πέμπτη are also the right names for thursday. maybe we as a species are just really good at naming thursdays.

and if we were really bored and had a moment and a picnic to split we could all sit down for a moment and sort out all the words that exist and find all the perfect words in every language. i would show you that while i like the word tree (it makes you smile to say it), i think arbor is correct. you could teach me from your language what words fit the right way, and that would be very exciting (exciting is not correct, it's just fine).

i think probably this is what was happening at the tower of babel, before the languages all got shifted across the world and smudged by the hand of god. by the way, hand isn't quite right, but i do like that the word god is only 3 letters, and that it is shaped like it is reflecting into itself, and that it kind of makes your mouth move into an echoing chapel when you cluck it. but the word god could also fit really well with a coathanger, and i can't explain that. i think donut has (weirdly) the same shape as a toothbrush, but we really got bagel right and i am really grateful for that.

grateful is close, but not like thunder. hopefully one day i am going to figure out how to shape the way i love my friends into a little ceramic (ceramic is very good, almost perfect) pot and when they hold it they can feel the weight of my care for them. they can put a plant in there. maybe a daisy.

[demonic0angel]

Court Story Idea

TW: the Joker

Where the Joker is being prosecuted for his crimes within the Ghost Zone and each side (defendant and plaintiff) is able to choose the lawyer for the other side. So that means that the Joker is able to choose an attorney for the plaintiffs AKA Jason, along with other victims, both alive and dead. (For drama’s sake, let’s say that the Justice League is there too, along with the younger generation of heroes.)

When everyone hears this, they’re like ??? Because isn’t that just going to help the Joker??

And the Joker, realizing this, is looking for the most weakest, most vulnerable person to exploit within this ghostly court room and he looks at the back of the room…

And finds Jazz, who’s sitting in a corner behind King Phantom, head down, trying her best to be unnoticed, nose in her papers as she’s writing down what’s said as the court reporter.

And the Joker picks her.

Nobody understands why everyone from the Ghost Zone is suddenly either 1) flabbergasted, 2) completely delighted, or 3) laughing so hard that it’s like they’re about to die a 2nd time.

Because the Joker chose the only person in the room with an actual law degree who is not only the big sister of the literal Ghost King, but also loves children, is fiercely protective of them, and most importantly, has never gotten the opportunity to show off her hard earned degrees in criminology, psychiatry, or law until now.

(Inspired by this post where someone says that Jazz would be the court reporter)

[zan0tix]

ALPHA KIDS: Draw your best friends!

DIRK: I'd say I'm better at one on one character interaction work of the more intimate variety, but I think this piece came together nicely. DIRK: Fun for the whole family style wholesomeness, any motherfucker in the radius of a screen displaying this image will instantly get hit with a sore case of heartburn and their tear ducts will clock in overtime at the weeping factory.

ROXY: im so proud of these i think these are my best designs yet :3 but omg dirk callie and jake were SOOO peculiar about their damn designs over my shoulder. jake wanted me to clarify that even in pink pen form his little guy is BLUE. so there. sigh this is the one occasion they could take notes from janey.. JUST LET LE ARTIST WORK!

JANE: Boy! I don't draw often but I always was fond of calligraphy growing up. I was kind of inspired by all of the other's works, but especially Calliope's swirls she puts in her art. It's very fun to add!

JAKE: Im not quite the best with posing, but i find the head very fun to study! Especially skulls.. so good ole calliope makes for the perfect muse! (hehe)

CALLIOPE: i realized i hadn't ever made a piece with Us in the same place at once. u_u CALLIOPE: bUt since it's reality now here's all of Us together, United at last! ^u^

==->

[jamtamart]

the last disco