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thatsdemko · 3 days
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trying to come up with ideas for fics is so exhausting
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thatsdemko · 4 days
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hi guys!
I’ve been very busy with finals and graduation upcoming so I have not had time to write but I plan to post more soon hopefully!!
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thatsdemko · 5 days
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LANDO ... Sunday, Chinese gp 2024
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thatsdemko · 6 days
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thatsdemko · 6 days
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your daily dose of maxplaining
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thatsdemko · 9 days
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same brand of annoying
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thatsdemko · 9 days
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daniel ricciardo being interviewed by the media ahead of the chinese grand prix | 📍shanghai international circuit, media day | 📸 peter fox
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thatsdemko · 10 days
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I need him to do that to me in the first gif
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x
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thatsdemko · 11 days
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carlos sainz | australia gp 2024
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thatsdemko · 13 days
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Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye // You were bigger than the whole sky
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thatsdemko · 14 days
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Backwards hat, fist pump, fuck boy
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thatsdemko · 14 days
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unknown - m.verstappen
masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)
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unknown
attachment: 1 image
the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.
unknown
can you see my nipples through this?
Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.
“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.
though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.
finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.
fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.
max verstappen
a bra would be appropriate.
your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.
unknown
don’t mention this to Lewis.
max verstappen
secret is safe with me.
while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.
max verstappen
where are you headed looking like that?
y/n Hamilton
your moms house.
max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.
max verstappen
I think my house is a better place for that
your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.
y/n Hamilton
you wish I was headed to your place like this.
max verstappen
I do.
fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.
y/n Hamilton
I’m free right now.
twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.
his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.
you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.
he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.
his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.
“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.
when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.
you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.
“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.
“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.
“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”
a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”
a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”
“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”
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thatsdemko · 16 days
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thatsdemko · 17 days
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the culer- j.bellingham
masterlist | pairing: Jude Bellingham x gavi!fem!reader. summary: with the pressure of the match at hand, Jude makes an error that’ll cost him. warnings: fluff + angst + the following events in this fic are completely fictional and are not based on real life events. a/n: I dislike Real Madrid but I love Jude because he played for Borussia Dortmund.. he’ll always have a place in my heart I fear
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It’s not like the words “Pablo gavis sister” were plastered against your forehead, so how was he supposed to know? it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, but it certainly wasn’t best when he rounded the corner and hear your soft laugh ring his ears. it was even ten times worse when his breakfast threatened to come up seeing your brothers arm around your shoulders.
you’re squished in between culers, your brothers jersey clung tight against your chest that serves as a major distraction to him. yet, he can’t actually see you. glimpses of you from the tunnel replay in his mind, the ball against his feet should be in the back of the net right now, but he’s stalling.
if he scores, your brother and his team lose. why does it matter to him anyway? this should be an exciting moment here in Barcelona with the crowd booing his name and boosting his adrenaline, so why does he care so much about you?
you’d never had more than just sex. an occasional cuddle and maybe a late night movie cozied up in his bed, but that was it. so you’re unsure why he’s playing with the ball when he’s got a 90% chance of scoring.
“just shoot the damn ball, Jude.” you mutter to yourself. the quicker he gets this over, the sooner the dread and anxiety bubbling in your stomach will fizzle out, and the sooner this is over the better chances your brother or his teammate have in evening the score.
yet there he still stands, unable to decide to shoot or to pass and the crowd wasn’t having it. Jude was usually so quick with his mind, football came easy yet this shot was the hardest one. he knows if he shoots this into the back of the net all chances with you end tonight on this pitch. he knows if he passes, all chances of his team advancing into the next round, end here.
why did it have to be him to decide the fate?
as if on cue, pablo takes the stab. he pulls Jude from his mind games, and decides to end the misery for himself and the crowd. Jude didn’t have much of a reaction time, in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight as the ball was swept from his feet.
“what the fuck man?!” his teammates shout frustrated in his inability to play the damn game.
your nails dig into your palms, watching your brother and his teammate play keep away from the Real Madrid defenders before taking the shot on net and ending the tie once in for all.
Real Madrid lost and wouldn’t advance to the next round.
a smile couldn’t form to your lips. watching Jude’s head hang low, you feel guilty. knowing he’d been riding the highs of the past couple of wins, he should be proud of the fight the team put up today. but those three minutes of torture would haunt him for the rest of his career for every time he saw you.
you.
his head picks up, eyes scanning the mass of fans the sea of red and blue all mesh together. faces booing and others cheering become a blur, but he’s sure you’re out there celebrating. you always expressed how important family was to you, and he was sure your family couldn’t of been happier.
you shouldn’t be here. not this late. the match ended hours ago and Jude most likely wasn’t even home yet, but it didn’t stop you from pounding your knuckles against the wood door in hopes he was there. you’re the last person he probably ever wants to chat with, but you needed to check on him. you needed to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up.
you hear the lock click, the door slowly creeps open revealing his dark brown eyes scanning your body. you’d changed into sweatpants in a sweatshirt, a more casual fit than what you were used to wearing to see Jude.
“what are you doing here this late?” his posh accent floods your eardrums, your heart can’t help but thump faster as you move closer to the small crack of the door to find any signs of concern across his face.
“I came to see you.”
“I don’t want to see you.” his bitter words make your heart come to a screeching halt. it’s just the game, you tell yourself, he doesn’t mean these words he’s clearly just upset.
“you played well, ba—Jude. please don’t beat yourself up.”
the door opens up more, like he couldn’t resist. seeing your concern for him mixed his feelings about you. at first, he was done with you. said it was for the best to move on, but seeing you here? with your doe-like brown eyes staring into his, he couldn’t resist.
“I’m the laughingstock of the team now. all because I couldn’t shoot the damn ball.”
“why didn’t you?” the words come rolling off your tongue before you can even process. you’d been asking yourself the question ever since the game ended. why didn’t he just shoot the damn ball? what was stopping him? you couldn’t press the questions in your mind any further when you knew what was stopping him: you. its silly and cliche but it’s the truest that’s been gnawing at him. you were the reason he couldn’t bare to see his own rivals lose.
“I don’t want to discuss this.” his shoulders slumped. he hardly notices you’d pushed the door further and allowed yourself in. he knew your care taking tendencies couldn’t bare to see him this down.
“come on,” you guide him into his bedroom, the curtains are drawn and a Spanish soap-opera plays quietly in the corner of his room. you crawl into his bed and allow him to rest against your body. your nails rake across his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on the black forming bruises.
“you really shouldn’t be here.” he mumbles feeling his shoulders and body sink further into the depths of touch. he hates himself for this, he knows he shouldn’t be falling at the hands of his rivals sister, but yet he can’t stop himself.
“I know,” you say peppering kisses to his throbbing temple, like you knew there was too much pressure there, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, right now I’m here to deal with you.”
“you’re the better gavi, did you know that?” Jude lifts his gaze to meet yours, your lips briefly touch enough to ghost his.
“I did know that actually.”
he may have lost the game, but one things for sure, he didn’t lose you.
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thatsdemko · 17 days
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"scratchy"
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pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: you love your boyfriend's new look, but it proves a slight challenge when it comes to kisses warnings: none! w/c: 712
a/n: when i made this post abt this idea after seeing the pics at first i wasn't expecting so many ppl to like it 😭 ... so i'm really hoping i did it justice !!! pls enjoy !!!
taglist for this fic! (love u all <3): @gadriezmannsgirl @emz2092 @spidybaby @goldenalbon @gavisuntiedboot @zowanew
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“Baby,” you cooed, trying your best to sound apologetic and not burst into a fit of giggles at the sight of your boyfriend standing at the corner of your bed like a sad puppy. The pet name only seemed to make things worse though, his pout deepening as he shrugged off your attempts to use affection to win him back.
With a soft sigh, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows so you could look at him properly - and so he could properly see the remorse and guilt on your face.
”I already said I’m sorry,” your tone was soft - at least as soft as you could manage whilst holding back laughter at how adorable he looked - “please just come back to bed so I can make it up to you.”
“I can’t believe you pulled away from my kiss.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Did you not want it?” his brows were furrowed in confusion as if the concept of you dodging his show of love was genuinely puzzling to him. It was equal parts endearing and heart-breaking.
”It’s not that, it’s just that …” you trailed off, eyes already busy scanning your boyfriend’s face. All of his familiarly handsome features laid bare for you, his deep brown eyes looking at you with an intensity that could only be accompanied by his perfect lips which were twisted into a frown.
Still, you couldn’t help but let your faze drift to the most recent addition to his look - a tiny bit of stubble that dotted his jawline and upper lip. You hadn’t really noticed how dark his facial hair had gotten until just now, when he had swooped in for a kiss and the short hair had scratched against your face. It was an odd feeling, to say the least, and you had pulled back without thinking much of it, your face twisted into an expression of discomfort.
You were brought back to the current time when your boyfriend cleared his throat, urging you to continue your explanation.
“It’s just that,” you pause for a moment to let his brows raise in curiosity, “your facial hair - it’s a bit scratchy.”
At your confession, his accusatory stance dropped as his shoulder drooped slightly. “I thought you liked it though,” he said in a tiny quiet voice, not even looking up at you as he said it.
You hurried to assure him. “I do! I think it makes you look more mature, more manly, more …” you paused once more, searching for just the right word to express your appreciation for his new look, ”more handsome.”
This seemed to do the trick, as a sheepish smile spread across his face before he lunged onto the bed beside you. He buried his face into his pillow, both to stifle a fit of boyish giggles and to hide the pink blush your compliment had caused. You couldn’t help yourself from running a hand through his hair, before cupping his face and pulling it gently to face you. Instinctively he leant in for a kiss with his passionate roughness and you had to stop him once more.
“Gently,” you reminded him, not needing to speak much louder given how close his face was to yours. He understood you perfectly though, moving smoothly with a gentle tentativeness as he connected his lips to yours, cautiously avoiding rubbing his facial hair against your face. He let out a satisfied hum, almost melting into the kiss he had been waiting so long for.
Finally, though, your lips parted as he pulled away - eager to ask another question.
“You really don’t mind the beard?” he withdrew the hand that had been previously wrapped around your waist to rub at his own jaw.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a beard just yet baby, but I do like it. I’d like you with any look,” you assured him with a soft giggle.
“What if I went bald?”
A slight pause as you thought. “Maybe not.”
Gavi only chuckled at this, pulling you in once more for another kiss - and you didn’t have to remind him this time as he kissed you with such gentleness it made your heart flutter purely with how precious it made you feel.
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thatsdemko · 18 days
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the angst the hatred UGH PERFECTION!!!!
DEVOTION
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🖇️ you liked being secret. it was something sacred between the two of you. you liked it so much, you started to hate it
🖇️ pairing: lando norris x teammate reader
🖇️ 8.2k words, angst & smut | second part to crave
🖇️ took me another month to finish, but as demotivating as this was, i hope i get back to posting more frequently :)
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Clandestine meetings soon became you two’s most trusted secret.
The gentle touches, quiet whispers, longing glances and warm smiles were something you had grown to love. And your favourite part about it being secret? It was all about you.
In public, you’d pay no mind to Lando. During races, you’d still act like you hate him, still try and cause trouble on the track. But in private, where the only set of eyes on you were the green irises of the man you love, you’d be the centre of attention.
Lando’s hands wouldn’t touch you the same way in public as they do in the enclosed space of his driver room, hotel room, or your home. And that excited you.
You liked being secret. It was something sacred just between the two of you.
You liked it so much, you started to hate it. Maybe it was just the fact that Lando took you being a secret a bit too far. Or maybe it was just his way of hiding your relationship, if you’d even call it that.
You just couldn’t understand him going out with another girl, but still ending up in your bed at the end of the day.
Especially when you had deleted every dating app, got rid of every memory of any guy you were talking to, all because you and Lando have the chance to become something.
Your hope of that lessens everytime you see rumours of him going out with girls. It’s never anything romantic, just him at a table with a new girl every other week, so it didn’t bother you as much.
The bubbles in your hotel bathtub were softly caressing your skin when you saw the picture.
Casually scrolling on your phone in the bath as you waited for the conditioner to absorb into your hair, you made the horrible decision of clicking on that tempting X icon in the top left corner of your homescreen.
The first post? A picture of Lando’s tongue down a girl’s throat.
For the first time in a long time, Lando was the reason for that burning and disgusted feeling in your stomach. It felt like it was making its way up, the feeling getting caught in your throat as you type something out into a tweet, shut your phone off and drop it to the floor.
Even when you weren’t looking at it, the picture was burned into the back of your eyelids.
The mere image of his hands on her waist— the same hands he touched you with— was enough to make you feel that hatred crawling back.
As if on cue, your phone started ringing and the contact was none other than Lando himself.
“Hey, darling.”
You rolled your eyes at the familiar pet name. “Hi, Lando.”
Shuffling was heard on the other side of the call, you could only assume Lando was still in bed with the girl from that picture. “What’s with the tone? No ‘Lan’, no ‘baby’?”
“Sorry,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Stressful day.”
Lando chuckled. “Baby, we work at the same place. I’d know if you were off because of a stressful day. What’s wrong?”
You hated how he knew you inside and out, yet to you he had glued himself shut and you can’t pry yourself in.
“I don’t know.”
A sigh brushed past Lando’s lips. He knew why you were in a mood, and it didn’t exactly excite him to do that to you. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why he did it. It just happened, and you’re technically not together, so he thought it wasn’t a big deal.
The call stays silent for a minute or two, both of you trying to come up with what to say. Lando speaks first. “Come to my room. 304.”
“Lan, I’m no-” He hung up before you could even respond.
You finished your bath, hoping the water washes away whatever feeling was brewing in your chest.
The view of yourself in the mirror made you feel pathetic— why were you sulking over some guy?
It wasn’t even anyone special. Just the guy you’ve been in love with for about as long as you’d known him. The guy, who confuses you beyond words. You can’t help but try to decode whatever lies in the gaps and the silence, yet having no luck.
Despite being confused and frustrated, you dried your hair and changed into your PJs, and locked the hotel room behind yourself.
Lando’s room was just across the hall, the fourth door from yours.
This all felt too familiar, only fuelling the confusion and fear in your chest. It suffocated you, the notion that despite you being Lando’s, he wasn’t entirely yours.
Yet you still spent the night with him— slow and borderline loving, careful hands travelling your body and hungry lips trailing your neck.
And in the morning, the sun just above the horizon, you slipped from Lando’s grasp and found yourself crying away your mascara before it’s properly dried.
The black taint stained your cheeks, dripping down your chin and onto your sweatpants. You felt partly relieved to know Lando’s having fun. You’d hate to be the one to stop him from going out and finding other girls.
But that’s also what made you partly heartbroken.
It’s not even about you being hurt, it’s about other girls being replacements for each other, not knowing that you’re just like them— aching and breaking for someone that doesn’t see you the same way.
Your phone dings with a message as you wipe your tears away.
Lando: Don’t like morning cuddles anymore?
A giggle slipped past your lips before you thought to catch it, and you quickly typed up a reply.
You: I have a breakfast thing with Carlos.
You: Knew I’d probably ditch it if I were to cuddle you awake.
Lando: Will I see you at the party tonight?
Lando: DJs booth, just the place to be :))
You: I’ll think about it.
Except that you already had. You decided to go, more so for yourself than for Lando, but the thought that you’d get to spend more time with him sure was a bonus.
You continued on with getting ready as you called your brother and asked if he wanted to get breakfast. He instantly agreed, and you changed into something more casual and comfortable than the tear stained sweatshirt and mascara stained sweatpants.
Carlos was waiting for you in his car.
When you got in, he immediately felt something was off. Ever since you were little, it seemed like he had some sort of telepathy with you. Whenever you were sad, Carlos was there and comforting you.
He’s not sure what exactly is wrong right now, but he knows you need your big brother.
Carlos presses a few buttons on the control panel of the car and the sound of your favourite song plays. Your head turns to look at Carlos with an appreciative look on your face, a small smile adorning your lips.
You watch as he starts driving and turns the volume up, slowly beginning to dance along to the song as he mouths the lyrics. Soon, you broke out of your sadness and sang along with your brother.
This was exactly why you never gave up. Him.
Carlos has always been a great brother. You were still very small when you realised that. And everyday, every year, he proves that to be more and more true. Like when you were fourteen.
That year, the taste of heartache became familiar on your tongue.
It was the first time you had felt the touch of a male. It still lingered weeks after it happened. You felt loved and cared for, until you didn’t. Carlos was there through all of it, comforting you and threatening to beat that guy up for you.
Even though he was as protective as he could be, your heart kept breaking. It fixed itself, glued each broken shard back together, only to shatter again.
The flavour of love soon tasted more bitter than sweet. And you’re starting to feel the same way at twenty-four.
Minus the heart breaking and fixing itself part, but the flavour of bitterness still lingered on your tongue as you tried to wash it down with orange juice.
“Is it good?” Carlos points to your caesar salad with his fork, mouthful of scrambled eggs muffling his voice.
You poke at your food with a fork and shrug. “A bit bitter, but it’s fine.”
Carlos laughs at that, as he grabs your plate and switches it with his own. “The scrambled eggs are a bit… difficult to chew. But it’s better than croutons and whatever else is in this.”
You watch your brother take a bite of the salad, immediately making a face and trying his best not to spit it out. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” he says, through a faux pained expression. “It’s delicious.”
“I bet it is.”
Laughter came so easily when you were with your brother.
Carlos made you laugh so much you’d feel your abdomen grow sore with every giggle and laugh that escaped your lips. And Carlos loved seeing your eyes form into crescent moons, knowing that he’s still able to somehow make you feel better.
“Are you going to the party?” Carlos asks as you get out of his car, back at the hotel.
“Yep,” you shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
Carlos gives you a look as if he knew something, but said nothing about it. You brushed it off and made your way to the lobby. You ask for your key at reception, take the elevator to the fourth floor and as you’re about to unlock room 301, Lando’s hotel room door opens.
You don’t turn around to look, because you expect it to be Lando and you’re not sure if you want to talk to him right now. But what makes you whip your head to the left is the sound of a female giggle.
There she was. Same brown hair, same tan skin, same beautiful figure. Identical to the picture you had seen on twitter.
It made you sick to your stomach. Especially when you could see Lando’s head peeking out to kiss her goodbye, and you swore you could see his eyes focused on you. Though you can’t be sure, because as soon as you saw his curly brown hair, you were stepping into your hotel room.
It takes about fifteen minutes for you to calm down and for Lando to knock on your door.
You opened it expecting it to be room service, but Lando slipped inside before you could close the door on him. “You’re avoiding me.”
“I’d have no reason to, even if I was.” You shrug as you take a seat on the bed. Lando squats down in front of you, the palms of his hands flattening on your knees.
He rests his bearded chin on the top of his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I already told you,” you shrug, before leaning back to push yourself up on the palms of your hands. “I’m stressed with the races starting up again.”
“You’ve been doing just fine, baby.” Lando reassures you. “You got second place, remember?”
“That’s the problem. I’m always in second place.” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the race or not anymore, but you mean whatever you said.
Lando leaned up to try and kiss you, but you turned away.
“And I think it’s best if we stay friends.”
That hit Lando right in the gut. He felt his chest constricting under the weight of your words, all the air being squeezed out of his lungs as each word plugged his airways.
“What? What do you mean?”
You shrug. “I want to focus on my career.”
Lando runs the palms of his hands across his face. He’s not sure why, but he has a feeling it’s got to do with the girl who left his hotel earlier. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I guess.” You shrug, sitting up and looking at him. Lando now stood on his feet, looking down at you as his fingers softly grabbed your chin.
He lifted your face up to look at him, thumb softly brushing past your bottom lip. As if it’s a habit, your lips parted and he smirked.
Lando knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. You just needed a reason to get a break from him, even though you really don’t fucking want to.
Lando sits beside you, the familiar warmth of his hands wrapping around your waist and next thing you know, you’re on his lap. His lips don’t hesitate to kiss away any thought of you two staying just friends.
As much as this relationship hurt you, it was irresistible.
You longed for the lingering taste of Lando’s saliva mixing with yours, the warmth of his hands perfectly slotted on your waist, the lasting vibration of his moans in your mouth.
And Lando longed for it just the same.
He couldn’t tell you why he was going out with a different girl every other night, for the past two weeks of you two being… something.
Lando’s not even sure himself. It’s just something he was used to, but these times around it just felt so wrong. Yet he couldn’t say no to those girls, until he’s sure you feel the same overwhelming feeling of love he has for you.
When you fall asleep in his arms, Lando fights the internal battle to stay with you. But he knows it’s for the better if he leaves before you wake up.
The warmth of his body still cradles the sheets he laid in when you get woken up by a call.
You swallow down the bittersweet feeling in your throat before picking up, slumber still lingering on your tongue. “Hello?”
“Morning, lil’ Sainz.” Daniel’s cheery tone tickles your ear as you turn on your side. “Are you hungry?”
You check the clock on the wall. Six in the evening never looked so bright, but again, you’re in Las Vegas and it’s never dark in the city that never sleeps.
“Sure, what do you have in mind?”
Daniel’s smile can be heard from a mile away when he talks and it warms you up inside. “Sushi or pizza, your pick.”
“Hm,” you sit up and stretch, finally letting Lando’s warmth slip away from your skin. “I’m feeling like sushi, to be honest.”
“Sushi it is! See you in twenty.”
And in twenty minutes, you were sitting on your hotel room bed, Daniel telling you stories about Max and you stuffing sushi into your mouth, trying not to choke as you laughed.
“Are you going to the party?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You ask, noticing how it’s the third time you’ve heard the same question.
Daniel shrugs. “I’m just wondering,” he explains. “Don’t know if I would’ve gone without you.”
Over the last few weeks, you and Daniel have become close. So close that he’s probably the only one on the grid that knows about the little situationship you have going on with Lando.
But Daniel never brings him up, not unless you want to talk about it.
“I’m going,” you answer his previous question. “I bought a dress for this specific occasion.”
“Care to show it?”
You bounced to your feet at his question and made your way to your suitcase, not noticing how Daniel’s eyes followed each of your moves. You pulled out a black dress before making your way to your bathroom and trying it on.
Daniel waited patiently as you got dressed, the sushi entertaining him until the bathroom door opened.
The sushi he held up with his chopsticks never made it to his mouth, stuck mid-air as he gaped at the image in front of him — a long, silk dress with a slit deep enough to reveal the tender flesh of your left thigh, your shoulders adorned by thin and delicate straps.
You giggle at Daniel’s reaction. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
The aussie briefly nods. “It’s gorgeous.”
You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “Now, without pretending to be Lando?”
“It’s beautiful on you. Gonna make him drool,” Daniel grins at you. “My impression’s spot on and you know it.”
You giggle as you roll your eyes again, turning back around to the bathroom. The door doesn’t close shut this time, which prompts Daniel to rise to his feet and investigate what you were up to.
Leaning against the doorway, his golden eyes carefully watched as you dabbed on makeup. “Do you really need all that?”
“Yeah, you could use some, too.” You tease, leaning against the bathroom cabinet to get closer to the mirror.
“I mean,” you turn to Daniel when he shrugs. “You’ll be crying it off anyway.”
A used wet-wipe lands on Daniel’s crossed arms, him laughing and you threatening to throw another one. “Get out.”
“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m picking you up in an hour, hopefully you’re done caking yourself in makeup by then.”
“Bye, Daniel.” You raise your voice as if to urge him to leave.
“See you, love.”
The hotel room door closes and you’re left alone again, thoughts of Lando quickly seeping back into your mind.
It’s like every time you tried to get rid of him, he found a way back in. And who are you to say no to him?
When you fell asleep in his arms earlier, the familiar scent of him clouding your mind, you felt it again. And as much as you cursed yourself for feeling it, you couldn’t help but let the feeling bloom in your chest.
Lando felt it too, and he felt it full force when he saw you walking into the club with Daniel’s arm around your waist. Yet the feeling of love in his chest was mixed with a tinge of jealousy. Or maybe more than a tinge, because his jaw clenched at the mere sight of your little dress swaying with every step you took.
“Everything alright, Lan?” Lando’s armcandy of the night mumbles against his neck.
His green eyes track you from across the club, narrowing in on you when you spot him and give him a small wink. “Everything’s perfect, babygirl.”
You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of Lando and the same girl from earlier. His arm was gripping her waist in a way you thought was special to you and it made your skin crawl.
“You think he believed it?”
You turn to Daniel as he asks, sitting back in the booth you two shared. “I think so.”
“I can keep the act going, if you’d like.” He offers with a cheeky grin decorating his face.
You sip the margarita he had ordered for you, before smiling softly. “I’ll take you up on that, then.”
The night seems to pass you by as you get occupied in a conversation with your brother and his friends. Soon, the blasting music and fluorescent lights began to bore you, so you chose to scan the club for something to do.
When the dance floor catches your eye, you grab Daniel’s wrist. “Get up.”
The golden eyed man doesn’t utter a word as he gets up and follows you, ready to go wherever you take him. He quickly realises what you want to do, his arm snaking around your waist in an incredibly familiar way.
Daniel feels your hand find the back of his neck as he pulls you in from behind, slowly moving your hips against his. It’s a platonic act, both of you know it, but at the moment, Daniel feels like it’s more than just a ruse to make Lando jealous.
Maybe, for the night, he could let loose and show you what a good man is. Maybe, if it all goes right, he’d get to take you back to the hotel, too.
He loses all hope for that when he notices your eyes scanning the room again, looking for the one and only Lando Norris.
The man stood at the bar, green eyes carefully narrowed at the hand that’s slowly moving closer to your inner thighs.
He’s not sure why he’s so fucking jealous. It’s not like he wasn’t doing the same damn thing twenty minutes ago, hands exploring parts of the armcandy’s body they’ve never touched before. Lando feels like its fine only when he does it.
A gentle tug on his arm averts his attention elsewhere. Natalie, or whatever her name was, looked up at Lando with her big brown eyes. “Do you want to leave?”
Lando’s curls bounced when he shook his head. “No, baby.” You watch as he kisses her head, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “You having fun?”
“Mhm,” she grins up at him, noses touching and the image slowly burns into your memory. You feel a spark of something inside of you, something that caused you to be more handsy with Daniel.
The sight of Daniel’s hands grabbing your ass, your arms tracing the outline of his pecs and Daniel grinning down at you with a look only you could get out of a man, made Lando’s blood boil.
The party turned less into a celebration for the race and more of a competition between you and Lando— both of you were trying to see how much the other could take until one of you inevitably had enough.
Lando didn’t seem to be phased at all, instead waiting for the moment you looked his way. His fingers curled around the short brunette’s jaw as he pulled her in, his tongue exploring her vodka flavoured mouth.
You watched them make out, anger and envy filling your system. You felt it pulse through your veins and it stopped the second Daniel spoke. “You might not like this idea, but maybe-”
“Kiss me.”
The australian blinks a few times, as if to try and make sense of what you just said. “What?”
“When Lando looks at us, I need you to kiss me.” You explained, arms wrapping around Daniel’s warm neck. You saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Friends kiss, don’t they?”
“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs, an awkward grin decorating his pretty lips. “Sure.”
The song changes and you start dancing again, untangling yourself from Daniel and letting your own hands travel your body and raise your dress slightly, ass facing Daniel as he tries his best not to look at you too much.
But he couldn’t help it. His eyes seemed to be drawn to your figure, hands glued to your hips as you grinded on him again, back against his chest and faces inches apart. Daniel wasn’t even sure if Lando was looking, but he kissed you anyway.
His whiskey flavoured lips perfectly matched the taste of the margarita on yours, tongues fighting a battle neither of you will win. The kiss felt like something new, something you’ve never felt before and want to feel again, and again, and again.
To your luck, Lando was looking. He wasn’t just looking— he was burning holes into the back of your head with the intense stare he had on the image in front of him— his ex-teammate kissing his fucking girl.
Lando wouldn’t have that.
The brunette girl he was making out with earlier stands confused as her date peels himself away from her, making his way to the middle of the dance floor.
Daniel feels the warmth of your breath being torn away and the last thing he sees is Lando’s tight grip on your waist and your body following him into the bathroom.
The slam of the bathroom door is loud enough to scare whoever might’ve been in the neighbouring room.
You didn’t have enough time to comprehend what happened until you see Lando’s hungry eyes trailing your face.
“Hey, Lando.” A teasing smirk plays on your lips as you button up the third button on his shirt. “Button up, you look like a whore.”
The alcohol was obviously still twirling in your brain, but Lando didn’t care. “You’re one to talk, princess.”
You shrug. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah?” Lando stares at you, a fire so bright in his eyes that it burns you before he’s even touched you. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.”
The anger in his tone made you melt. You felt how much your teasing had rubbed off on him and the thought of him letting his anger out on you made you excited.
The bathroom door lock snaps when Lando’s fingers turn it, and the anticipation burns in your chest. It doesn’t take long for him to kiss you, lips attacking your mouth in a way you’ve never felt before.
Lando brings his hands to your hips, pulling you to sit on the edge of the marble countertop next to the sink. He traces his tongue along your jaw and neck, finding all the sensitive spots he had already memorised.
A loud whimper leaves your lips when he bites the skin of your collarbone, the tender skin turning red and teeth marks indenting it. Lando laps at the skin, groaning against it as if the taste of you was pleasure to him.
Lando slipped the straps of your little black dress off your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. He didn’t hesitate, tongue finding your left nipple and twirling around it.
“You lose yourself, darling.” He growls against your skin, pushing you further against the cabinet as your thighs dig into the edge of it. “Every time I’m not there to control you, you misbehave.”
“Mmm,” you groan as his hand wraps around your neck, softly applying pressure with his fingertips. You feel the air softly escape your lungs and the exhale is slow when you say, “misbehave?”
Lando bites back what he initially wants to say, a smirk decorating his soft lips when he notices the glimmer of lust in your eyes. “Little sluts like you never know when they misbehave, hm? Rubbing yourself all over my ex-teammate, kissing him… You thought I wouldn’t do anything about it?”
“I knew you would,” you smile, canines shining in the white glow of the bathroom lights. “I wanted you to.”
Lando narrows his eyes at you. “Is that so, pretty girl?” His fingers curl around your neck tighter, air hitching in your throat.
With one swift move, Lando pulls you off the cabinet and turns you around to face the mirror on the wall. It’s big enough that you can see your entire body and Lando standing behind you.
You’re too focused on the hunger in Lando’s eyes to notice him practically tearing your dress upwards, pulling your drenched panties to the side and slipping himself into you with ease.
“So fucking wet,” he moans, fingers digging into your hips so painfully that it feels good. “Was it me or was it Daniel that got you this wet, baby?”
A quiet moan leaves your lips as he stretches you out. You’d answer truthfully, but it’s too much fun seeing Lando so worked up knowing damn well he’s the only one who gets you soaked like this. “Mmh, fuck.”
“What was that?”
“He,” you huff, hissing when he slams into you a bit rougher this time. “Daniel got me, fuck,” the words get caught in your throat when Lando’s palm makes contact with your bare asscheek.
“Stop fucking lying to me.” He says through gritted teeth. “I know he can’t make you feel the same way I can.”
You hate that he’s right.
As fun as Daniel was, he could never have you be a whimpering mess underneath him. You’re sure he’s great and you know any woman that ends up with him will be lucky, but it won’t be you.
Lando pulls you back into the moment with a tug on the fistfull of your hair in his palm. “Look at me when I speak to you, darling.” Your eyes lock onto him in the reflection of the mirror. “Good girl.”
A weird feeling settles in your belly when he says that phrase. He’s never used it for you before and you realise you fucking love it. The grin on your face and half-lidded eyes show it, too.
Your head drops down onto the cabinet as Lando grips your hips again, pulling you into him as he basks in the melodical moans coming from your pretty lips.
“Look at yourself,” his veiny hand wraps around your neck and fingers dig into the base of your jaw, lifting your head up to face the mirror. “Such a fucking slut.”
Lando’s still pounding into you when the door handle twists and someone tries to get in.
The skin-to-skin noise doesn’t stop as Lando shouts. “Occupied!” all while his hand covers your mouth. He’s purposefully digging his cock deep into your pussy, trying to fish out any loud noise he can get.
You’re drooling all over his fingers when your mouth parts and he slips two of them past your lips. Lando can feel your high approaching and he fucks deeper into you, surprising you with an orgasm.
You half expected him to leave you without one, but the pleasure washes over you as you moan his name. “Fuck, Lando!” He’s groaning when your walls close around him, and he’s spilling into you, his warm cum burning you from the inside.
Before you can even open your eyes, Lando’s flipping you around and pulling you off the cabinet. Your legs give out and Lando’s hands wrap around your waist before you fall to your knees, instead bringing you down slowly.
You look up at him, lashes fluttering as he pumps his cock a couple times. “Open your mouth, doll.”
Lucky you, not only did your pussy get filled to the brim and graciously given an orgasm, you get to feel his veins burn into the back of your throat, too.
Your soft lips part, closer to the base of his cock. As hot as it was the first time you did this, and the numerous times after, Lando wasn’t in the mood for any teasing.
“I told you to open your mouth, not to lick my dick and act as if you’re not desperate to have me down your throat.”
That statement alone was enough to make you open your mouth, greedily taking his whole cock down your throat.
You’re lucky the club was blasting music, perfectly drowning out your moans and whimpering as your nose brushed against Lando’s pubes.
Lando’s known for being loud, so his moans were probably heard from the hallway. For some odd reason, that turned you on.
His dick dug into your throat and you felt your eyes prick with tears, whimpers bouncing off his shaft and struggling to get past your lips. With basically no warning, Lando’s dick twitched and warm liquid ran down your throat. And you swallowed it without a word from Lando.
Lando wipes your bottom lip with his thumb. “Get up.”
You do as told, fixing the edge of your dress to lay flat against your thighs. You’re hiding yourself from him as if he wasn’t just in you a few minutes ago.
Lando buckles his belt up and watches as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers softly dab at your face and you try your best to fix the mascara that runs down your cheeks.
His warm arms wrap around your waist and his face finds your neck. “You’re beautiful.”
“Did you just leave the girl by herself?” You ask, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.
Lando shrugs behind you. “I’m sure she found her way home, or at least some company.”
“You’re a dickhead, Norris.”
“And you love it.”
The playful grin on his lips caused you to break out in a smile.
Lando follows you out of the bathroom, hand tightly wrapped around yours, fingers intertwined. Daniel’s eyes meet you across the club and he feels his heart sink to his feet at the sight of Lando so closely entwined with you.
“Hey,” the aussie says to you when you walk up to the table you two sat at. He’s accompanied by Charles and Max, who look at you with warm and welcoming smiles. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you smile at him and place your knee on the seat next to his thigh. You lean over him, completely unaware that your dress rides up and shows the smallest bit of your ass. Daniel softly tugs the dress down so it covers you up as you grab what you need. “Forgot my handbag.”
The men at the table watch you walk away, hips swaying like they usually do, and Lando’s arm wraps around your waist again as he leads you out the club.
Through blurred vision and quiet laughs, you somehow make it back to the hotel. As if it’s a habit, you made a beeline to Lando’s hotel room as soon as the elevator door opened.
Lando watched as you grabbed his keycard and swiped it to open the room.
When the light turned on, Lando’s messy hotel room came into your blurry sight. It was neatly messy, some clothes in piles and his perfumes and skincare scattered across the coffee table.
A snort slipped past your lips when you saw Dior Sauvage amongst the many tubes and bottles. Of course he’d use sauvage.
You feel warm arms slip around your waist for the nth time this night and you lean back into his embrace. The smell of his cologne mixed with the alcohol lingering on him made your head dizzy. Lando’s lips find your neck and he softly kisses you, leaving a trail of love filled pecks down your shoulder.
“Lando?”
He holds his movements for a moment. “Yes, baby?”
“What is this?” You ask, voice trailing. The item in your hands is something that is so oddly familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it.
Lando takes the keychain from your hands, fingers smoothing over the yellowing plastic. It’s pretty old, considering he got it when he was still in karting. “It’s the keychain you gave me. When we were like… Eight? After you sabotaged my race.”
At the mention of your karting days, your stomach turns. The memories of how disgustingly you had treated each other flood your brain and you don’t even hide the goosebumps infecting your skin.
Lando’s fingers softly wrap around your wrist and he turns you to face him before pulling you into his chest. The smell of his cologne mixes with the air as you inhale him deeply, trying to cling onto the feeling of comfort you can’t seem to ever hold onto.
For some reason, that tinge of guilt overtook any other emotion in your body and you felt your limbs grow flaccid at the mere thought of your past, and future, with Lando.
The hues in his eyes slowly disappear as he blinks. “You okay?”
“Tired.” The lie slips past your lips so easily, but it’s simpler to lie than to admit that your mind is going at a million miles an hour with thoughts of what you might never be.
Lando’s gentle hands tour your body and he carefully undoes your zipper, slipping the dress off your delicate skin with his fingertips trailing behind. You’re standing in front of him, and even though he’s already seen every part of you, you feel bare. Raw. Exposed.
It doesn’t take an idiot to notice when you’re off, but Lando felt it coming even before you two got to the hotel.
“Here,” he hands you a t-shirt and you nod your head as a thank you. Yet even before you begin putting the shirt on, Lando takes it from your hands again. “Let me help.”
Your curious eyes watch as he pulls the shirt open from the bottom and his eyes lock onto yours, “arms up,” he mumbles and you obey. He tugs the shirt over your head, the smell of his detergent stilling in your sinuses and making you dizzier than you already were.
Warm fingers softly cup your cheek and you lean into the touch, as his other hand fixes the hair that falls on your face. Lando doesn’t talk, you don’t need him to, instead he gently leads you to the bed and lifts the sheets up as you get in.
Your gaze follows his figure as he walks around to the other side of the bed and sits down at the foot of it. An annoyed grumble leaves his mouth as he fumbles with the buttons, but gives up when he can’t manage to undo them. The muscles on his back flex as he raises his arms to tug off the shirt, and not an inch of his skin goes unnoticed by your gaze.
You connect the dots on his back and draw constellations from them, far more beautiful than the ones you’ve observed in the night sky.
He lays his curls down on the soft pillow, facing you and his hazel eyes carefully study your face. Lando forced himself to stay on his side of the bed, despite every cell in his body practically begging to touch you.
“Come closer.” You whisper and he scoots over even before the words fully leave your mouth. You feel his arms gently wrap around your waist as he pulls you in with your back to his bare chest.
When his lips press against your neck, then your collarbone, and then your shoulder, you expect him to slip his hands into your underwear, how he would every single night you’d end up like this. Your legs subconsciously move apart as you push yourself onto your back.
Lando doesn’t do what you expected him to, though. He continues placing gentle kisses on your shoulder, not moving any closer to your chest and his hands still wrapped around you. “Not tonight, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps on your skin.
“Why not?”
Lando pulls away looking at you. “That's all we do.”
You feel a certain warmth in your belly and a piercing feeling in your chest. “Yeah.”
He lays back down, curls bouncing as he lays down more comfortably. You notice his green, piercing gaze softly studying your face as you look up at the ceiling. Lando knows something’s wrong. Nothing’s been right since he left you and Carlos’ home.
“Can we watch something?” You ask, eyes examining Lando’s face before he softly nods and reaches for the remote. The TV turns on to some random rom-com, and that’s what you settle on watching.
It’s one of the most clichè movies you’ve watched, and you can’t help but let a small smile decorate your face. Your eyes were on the screen, and Lando’s eyes were on you.
He adored the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips, the lashes that sat atop your gorgeous eyes. Lando’s been trying to ignore the feelings growing in his heart, but seeing you this close, being able to just watch you, he decides not to.
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Lando’s low and gravelly voice tickles your ears. You turn your head a little towards him, watching how his eyes flickered with something close to what you felt.
“Like, at my house?” You ask, a bit confused by his sudden question. “What about it, Lan?”
He quickly shakes his head. “No, the very first time, when we were sixteen.”
As the words leave his lips, you notice the familiar look of anxiety on his face. The same look he gave you right before his lips touched yours, in that parking lot you soon found to be your favourite place.
That race was proven to be the worst of both of you’s careers— high speed corners, oversteer, crash.
You remember the anticipation of a race weekend brewing in your stomach, hands shaking and heart palpitating as you got into your race car. Lando was right ahead of you, his helmet bright as he got into his own car.
The race started as every other one, you felt confident and proud to have gotten this far. The corners were easy enough to turn, the car felt smooth and you had no doubt you’d land a podium that day or maybe even win the race.
The mind of a sixteen year old girl is more naive and confident than anyone else.
You felt the excitement in your chest as the next corner was easy enough to turn, and it’d let you be even further ahead of your teammate. But, as if it was on purpose, Lando’s car rear ended yours and both of you spun out.
Lando never felt such embarrassment and guilt, especially when he saw you get out of the car with clenched fists and angry strides.
You’re not sure what happened after that, but you remember ditching the briefing with your team after saying you felt ill and hiding in the parking lot, behind a car parked next to the curb.
The humming of the approaching evening managed to calm you down. You felt cold, reminding you that you can, in fact, feel and you’re not just a machine that’s expected to do amazing all the time.
Your silence was interrupted, because even if you were on the other side of the world, Lando would somehow find you.
“Want some?” He appeared from behind the car and startled you, a bottle of champagne in hand.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “How’d you get that?”
The brunet simply shrugged and sat down beside you, taking a large gulp of the champagne before handing it to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it and chug some.
“Listen, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine.” You shut his apology down. “I wouldn’t have won anyway.”
Lando shook his head, clearly dismissing whatever you just said. “You’re stupid if you think that.”
“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another swing of the champagne bottle. “Did you only come here to apologise?”
Lando shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.” You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his expression. “I honestly feel bad, you would have definitely won today if I didn’t fuck up.”
“I heard it was a car issue.” You looked at him for the first time that evening. He looked genuinely upset, which was unusual behaviour for him, especially when it was something to do with you.
“Yeah,” he looked up at the darkening sky. “I could’ve reported it earlier, but I thought I could get in a few more laps before doing that.”
A laugh escaped your lips before you’d thought to catch it. “Was it that or did you plan to sabotage my race? As some sort of revenge, or something.”
“No,” he admits, looking back to the ground. He was nervous and scared, and wasn’t in the mood to tease you. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”
Your curious and confused eyes met his. “What?” Your voice cracked and some form of anger laced your words. “Last time I checked, you fucking hated me.”
“I could never hate you, Y/N.”
“That’s bullshit, you’ve only ever tried to sabotage my races and you’ve been a dick to me for as long as I’ve known you.”
Lando sighs, not sure how to convince you or explain what he means. “I don’t know what changed, but I’m not like that anymore. I’ve tried to be nice to you, but you never take it seriously and you act mean instead of accepting it.”
“Are you trying to make me pity you so I forgive you for that stunt you pulled today?” You huff, a disappointed laugh leaving your lips. “You’re unbelievable, Norris. Don’t act like you actually like m-“
That’s when he kissed you.
You felt his breath brushing against your skin as his lips crashed against yours, chapped and rough, but it felt just right.
For a minute or two, you didn’t pull away. You let him kiss you and you kissed him back, and it was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t the champagne swirling in your tummy that made you all warm inside, but instead the soft touch of his fingers to your jaw.
It’s almost like it snapped you into reality.
You pulled away and scooted further from him, watching him with widened eyes. “What the fuck…”
“I’m not acting.” Is all Lando said, before he got up and left you alone, on the curb, just like he found you ten minutes before.
You felt awful for how you handled it, because after his confession, he went back to being cold and mean to you. He wouldn’t utter a word your way unless he absolutely had to, and the teasing remarks were gone.
It all changed from then, until about three years after, when both of you got into Formula One.
You blink and look back at Lando, the memory replaying in your mind multiple times as you nod. “Yeah, I remember it, why?”
“I did mean it.” He hums, fingers softly tugging a piece of your hair behind your ear after you’d turned around to face him. “I liked you back then. I was an idiot for not telling you.”
“Lando-“
“Let me talk, baby.” Lando’s green eyes reassure you and you urge him to speak.
“I was sixteen and stupid, and not persistent in getting what I wanted. I shut those feelings down until pretty recently, when I realised that I never really hated you. I was intrigued and interested.”
He takes a pause, mind sorting through the plethora of thoughts circling his mind in that moment.
“I’ve been yours since I kissed you.” You felt his words weigh on your chest. And you’re not sure if you can trust him.
“Then why did you do that? You can’t imagine how awful it felt seeing pictures of you and all those girls, while I laid in my bed and waited for you to call me and repeat the same routine.”
“I don’t know.” He admits, sounding as genuine as he is. “I was trying to ignore the feelings, in fear of rejection again, even though I knew I had you.”
“Yeah.” You agreed, not sure what to say. It feels awkward talking your feelings out with him, since you’ve never really done that before.
“It’s always been you.” Your eyes find his face again when he speaks. “Even though you hated me, it’s always been you.”
A small, bittersweet grin spread across your cheeks. “I used to hate you with everything I had in me.”
“I know.” It pains Lando to hear it, but he needed the reminder that the mutual hate you two have gone through for him to have you in his arms right now was too much to lose. He can’t risk that. “I felt it.”
“I’m sorry. About everything.” Lando felt the sincerity in your voice as you spoke. It’s the first time he’s actually hearing you speak about your feelings and he’s scared. He’s not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the fear of losing you, but it shakes him to his core and he’s not sure how to handle it.
“It’s okay.” He says, eyes glimmering with a mixture of anxiety and desperation in them. “Get some sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”
You nod softly, turning on your side but still facing him. There’s no amount of words you could say to him that would fully explain what’s exactly going on in your mind. It’s running at the speed of light with thoughts, and you can’t seem to grab ahold of a single one.
Lando lays on his back, shutting the TV off and placing the remote on the nightstand. You heard his quick breath as he moved closer to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his chest.
The warmth of his chest soothed you to sleep. Lando listened to your breathing, waiting for it to slow down and the exact moment when you’d fall to slumber.
His own mind was going haywire. There was so much he just said, still dodging the direct confession, and he cursed himself for it. He could have just told you instead of bringing up the worst night you two had ever experienced. Idiot.
Your face nuzzled further into his skin and he felt your arms snake around his torso, taking ahold of the beating drum in the middle of his chest. He was sure you could hear the rapid heartbeat shaking him, and you could.
The warmth and sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep faster than any other sound. When Lando was sure you had fallen asleep, he softly played with your hair. It’ll be a while before he can say this to you when you’re awake, and you won’t hear it now, but he says it anyway.
“I love you.”
It takes a moment for you to recollect yourself, the act of falling asleep that you’ve perfected since childhood finally coming to play. You bit back a small grin, ignoring the pitter patter in your own chest.
Lando felt uneasy when you shifted your position, lying on your stomach and partially on him, lips so close to his neck.
You placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone, eyes closed and breath steady.
“I love you, too.”
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thatsdemko · 18 days
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