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The morning sun spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, golden and soft, draping over your skin like a warm embrace. It’s early, way too early, and it coaxes you awake against your will.

But it’s not just the sunlight that has your body stirring—it’s the delicious ache settling deep in your muscles, a languid and familiar soreness stretching from your thighs to your core.

A not so gentle yet quite sweet reminder of last night. Of him. Of the way Lando had touched you, taken you apart, put you back together again with nothing but his hands, his mouth and the deep thrusts of his cock. Three weeks apart had been too long, and he’d made sure you felt just how much he’d missed you, how much he had craved you.

Oh, and fuck, he did.

Over and over, in many ways and many positions, until you couldn’t do anything but moan his name into the sweat-slick sheets, trembling and spent beneath him.

You shift, stretching your limbs, feeling the dull ache between your legs, and bite back a satisfied smile. Beside you, Lando is still dead to the world, his face buried in the pillow, one arm sprawled lazily over where your body had been. His bare back is exposed, golden-brown skin illuminated in the morning light, the lean muscles flexing slightly as he breathes in deep, slow, steady. Peaceful.

He’s beautiful and it’s so rare to see him like this, this unguarded and calm. Even in sleep, a faint furrow rests between his brows, his curls messy and tousled, falling over his forehead. You have the absurd urge to brush them away. And maybe give him a kiss on the forehead.

But Instead, you decide not to disturb him and carefully slip out of bed, moving quietly, your bare feet cool against the wooden floor.

You glance around the room, searching for something to slip into, and your eyes land on the crumpled pile of clothes from last night—Lando’s jeans, your dress, his white Calvin Klein boxers tangled in the sheets. Smirking to yourself, you grab his briefs, stepping into them, the waistband sitting low on your hips, and pull on one of his oversized t-shirts. It drowns you, the fabric soft and worn, smelling exactly like him— the cologne he’s been wearing since you gifted it to him many years ago and that faint musk of his favorite 4 in 1 shampoo.

The apartment is quiet, wrapped in that stillness of the early morning. The only sounds are the soft hum of the refrigerator, the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath your steps, and the distant murmur of traffic outside. You don’t bother checking the time. There’s no rush. You just pull out the pancake mix, reaching for the measuring cups and a bowl, letting your fingers move on autopilot as you hum softly to yourself.

You glance over your shoulder toward the bedroom, half-expecting to hear the telltale rustle of sheets or a sleepy groan. But nothing, the apartment remains silent, save for the quiet hum of the fridge and the soft scrape of your whisk against the bowl. Lando is still out cold, and really, you can’t blame him.

You smirk, biting your lip, the ghost of last night’s memories flashing hot behind your eyes. Again. Yeah. You definitely made sure he had a proper welcome home. Thorough. Exhausting. Devastatingly good.

With a shake of your head, you refocus on the task at hand, reaching for the eggs. You crack them into the bowl, one-handed, because you’re just that good, then the flour comes next with that protein powder. You wrinkle your nose at the offending container, rolling your eyes as you scoop a generous spoonful into the mix. Because, of course, Lando’s trainer has him on some "optimized nutrition plan," which apparently means sneaking protein into everything, even pancakes.

But you’re not completely heartless. You both want a nice breakfast after all, right? So, with a glance over your shoulder—just in case the sleeping menace decides to make an unexpected entrance—you reach for the real good stuff.

Chocolate chips.

You sneak a generous handful into the batter, watching as they disappear beneath the creamy mixture. Lando will complain, of course—something about "unnecessary sugars" —but you know damn well he’ll devour them anyway. Because, despite all his nutrition lectures and protein-obsessed nonsense, the man has the self-control of a toddler when it comes to sweets. And when he inevitably tries to argue, you’ll just remind him that if he didn’t want them, he shouldn’t have left you alone in the kitchen.

As simple as that.

You’re pouring the first pancake onto the griddle when you hear a low, raspy voice behind you.

"Stealing my clothes again, are we?"

You startle slightly, whipping around to see Lando leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his eyes hooded with sleep, voice thick and gravelly. He’s shirtless, loose sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, his curls still a mess. The sight of him—barefoot, sleepy, thoroughly fucked out—sends a shiver down your spine. Oh, you feel so lucky.

You roll your eyes, flipping the pancake with an exaggerated flick of your wrist. "If you don’t want me stealing them, stop leaving them on the floor."

A slow, lazy grin tugs at Lando’s lips, something teasing and dangerous all at once. He shifts closer, the warmth of his bare skin practically radiating off him as he watches you, blue eyes dark with mischief. "Or," he drawls, his voice thick with sleep, "… you could just wear nothing at all. Saves time."

You scoff, turning your attention back to the stove, pretending the idea doesn’t send a shiver straight through you. "You’re impossible."

"Morning, baby."

Before you can react, his fingers are grabbing your chin, tilting your face up. The movement is smooth, practiced, like he has done it a million times, and then his lips are on yours—warm, slow, deliberate. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he’s savouring you.

It’s unfair, really.

His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you back into him, fitting against you like he was made to be there. The heat of his bare chest sears through the thin fabric of his shirt that hangs loosely off your frame and his grip on your hip tightens, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Lando chuckles against your lips, that deep, lazy sound that makes your stomach tighten in a way you wish it didn’t. He pulls back just enough to murmur, "Mmm, you smell like me." His nose skims along your jaw, his lips grazing just below your ear, his voice thick with satisfaction, smug and pleased in a way that makes you want to shove him away and pull him closer all at once. "I like it."

You scoff, biting back a smirk as you turn around to pour another pancake onto the griddle, the batter sizzling as it meets the hot pan. "I have good taste for men’s fragrances," you say airily, pretending not to notice the way Lando’s grip tightens slightly on your waist once again, his body still warm and firm against your back.

"And for men in general," he adds smoothly, voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "Because, let’s be honest, me? Spectacular choice."

You snort, shaking your head. "Yeah, and yet, you still can’t cook a decent meal to save your life."

His hands squeeze your hips in mock offence, his chest pressing a little firmer against you. "Oi, that’s slander," he protests, his voice a perfect mixture of indignation and amusement. "I’ll have you know, I made toasts the other day. Perfectly golden. Michel-fucking-star level."

You grin, flipping a pancake with a satisfied little flick of your wrist. "Babe, you literally pay a guy to cook all your meals and put them in order in the fridge."

"That’s different!" He pulls back slightly, crossing his arms in that classic defensive stance, and you can already see the argument forming in his head.

You turn slightly, giving him a pointed look. "Oh yeah? "

“Yeah, I pay a dietitian " he argues, like that makes all the difference in the world. "It’s about, y’know, nutrition. Performance. Optimization. Science, baby." He gestures vaguely, as if that somehow strengthens his point.

You stare at him for a beat before deadpanning, "Right. Because heating up a pre-packed meal and eating it straight out of the container is peak science."

Lando gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just personally attacked his entire existence. "I will not stand for this slander in my own home."

"You mean the home where the microwave does all the heavy lifting?"

"Oi!" Lando lunges forward, hands outstretched, but you’re faster, sidestepping his attack with a triumphant laugh. His fingers graze your waist, but you twist just out of reach, reveling in the playful frustration etched on his face.

"You’re being mean to me," he whines dramatically, but the smirk tugging at his lips and the mischievous glint in his blue eyes tell a different story. He’s enjoying this—every second of your teasing, every playful jab, every time you challenge him like you were made to keep him on his toes. “I thought I treated you good enough last night!”

Lando exhales through his nose like a man defeated, but then his grin turns lazy, calculated. He steps closer behind you, hands bracketing either side of you as he leans in again.

You can’t help it—you snort at his theatrics, full-on laugh bubbling out of you as he stands there like a man betrayed, hands on his hips, chest puffed up in mock indignation. The pout is Oscar-worthy. But the way his eyes are dancing? That mischievous sparkle says it all. He’s playing this role far too well.

"Let’s start again, shall we?" he murmurs, voice lower now, thick with a teasing sweetness that makes your breath hitch. "Morning, my love." His lips brush the shell of your ear, just the faintest ghost of a touch, enough to make you shiver. "I missed you." His hands skim down, fingertips grazing the hem of his t-shirt that you’re wearing, playing with the fabric like he’s resisting the urge to just tug it up and off you.

“You look so fucking good in my clothes," Lando murmurs, his voice low and rough against the shell of your ear. His lips ghost along your neck, a slow, deliberate tease that sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

The spoon slips from your fingers, clattering into the bowl, and you barely register the sound over the pounding of your heartbeat. "Flatterer," you manage, but your voice comes out breathy, betraying you completely.

"Not flattery," he corrects smoothly, his hands already sliding lower, fingertips tracing lazy circles down the curve of your waist before settling over your ass. He palms you through the soft fabric of his briefs, fingers pressing in just enough to make your stomach tighten. "Just facts."

You try not to react, but it’s impossible when he’s so close, when his voice drips with that slow, teasing confidence, when his touch makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

"You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen," he continues, mouth brushing against your skin between words, lips grazing the spot just beneath your ear. "A vision. An angel."

You snort, shoving at his chest, though the heat simmering beneath your skin betrays you. "Oh, please."

Lando grins, catching your hand before you can fully push him away, bringing it up to his lips. He kisses your knuckles, slow and deliberate, then smirks as he presses another to the inside of your wrist, letting his teeth scrape just lightly over your skin. Your breath catches.

And then—

"… Can I have a pancake now?"

You blink. "You’re unbelievable"

He grins wider, all dimples and mischief. "What?"

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself. “That was the worst attempt at manipulation I’ve ever seen.”

“Was it though?” Lando’s voice drops, teasing and smug, as his fingers trail along the waistband of his boxers on your body. His touch is featherlight, deliberate, before dipping lower, gripping your hips, and pulling you flush against him. Heat blooms in your chest, spreading like wildfire, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice dropping into something slow and syrupy. “Because I’m pretty sure…” His fingers skate along your bare thigh, trailing up, grazing the fabric that separates you. “That if I dip my fingers in my underwear right now—” He pauses, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll find you soaked, won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach clenches, anticipation coiling low as his words settle between you. His confidence is maddening, infuriating, and yet your body betrays you, reacting to him in ways you wish it wouldn’t. You inhale sharply, your fingers tightening around the edge of the counter as you try—try—to maintain some semblance of control.

“You’re such a menace,” you mutter, but your hands are in his hair now, threading through those curls you pretend not to be obsessed with. “Just admit you have no self-control and wanted an excuse to get handsy before breakfast.”

“Oh, I definitely have self-control,” he says, his voice low and smooth and entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m just choosing not to use it. Very different situation.”

“So, should I check?” he murmurs again, lips grazing the sensitive spot beneath your jaw, fingers flexing against your hips.

It's so easy to make him win that you can't help but biting down on your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal answer, but your body speaks for you—hips tilting ever so slightly toward him, the barest of movements, but enough for his smirk to widen.

Because he knows he's damn right.

And just like that, you’re both gone—lost in laughter and heat and that deliciously familiar tension that says: round two isn’t just a maybe—it’s already in motion.

Before you can respond—before you can do anything, really—Lando’s hands are on your thighs, gripping, lifting. With effortless ease, he hoists you up onto the counter, sliding between your legs, pressing into you fully now. Your breath stutters at the hard, insistent pressure of him against you, his body slotting between yours like it belongs there—because, really, it does. It always has. His hands slide up your thighs, warm and confident, fingertips just brushing close to where you need him most, but never quite touching.

And then his lips are on you again—no hesitation this time, no teasing delay.

It’s consuming.

A kiss that silences everything else—thoughts, warnings, even the faint sizzle from the stove behind you. You melt into him instantly, a soft, involuntary sound slipping from your lips. It's not quite a moan, not quite a sigh—but something in between.

He deepens the kiss with slow, aching precision. Lando kisses like he’s starving but determined to savor every bite. His mouth moves over yours with a bruising tenderness, full of intention, full of promise, like he’s not just kissing you—he’s memorizing you. Each sweep of his tongue, each nibble at your lower lip, sends waves of warmth spiraling low in your stomach.

And then his hands move. Oh, those hands.

They slide from your waist to your hips, fingers flexing against the thin cotton of his t-shirt—your t-shirt now, apparently. There’s nothing hurried, nothing rushed, just this slow, delicious gravity pulling you into him until there’s not a breath of space between you. You feel him, solid and wanting, the kind of pressure that makes you forget how to stand upright, much less speak.

"Turn off the stove, Lan..." you whisper against his mouth, though it sounds more like a plea than a warning.

He doesn’t even blink.

With one last kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, Lando pulls back just enough to reach behind you. You hear the familiar click of the knobs and the low hiss of the flame dying out, and then the clink of the pan being moved. He does it so effortlessly—one-handed, focused, practiced—as if he’s done this a dozen times before, choosing you over breakfast every single time.

But he’s not gone for long.

In a heartbeat, he’s back, eyes locked onto yours, dark with mischief and something far deeper. “Better?” he murmurs, but the way his gaze drops to your lips—and then lower—makes it clear the question is rhetorical.

Your response never makes it past your lips.

Because in one fluid motion, his hands are under the hem of the shirt. There's a pause, a heartbeat of tension, where he just looks at you—silent permission, a breathless dare—and when you don’t stop him, he pulls the shirt up, slow enough to feel every inch of the fabric dragging over your skin.

The way his eyes darken as more of you is revealed? That look could burn hotter than the stove ever could.

The moment the shirt hits the floor, his mouth is on you again—but lower this time. Kisses scatter down your throat, across your collarbone, and then lower still. His hands are on your waist again, guiding, grounding, claiming. And when he finally mouths at the swell of your breast, reverent and unhurried, you swear you forget your own name for a moment.

He doesn’t rush. Oh no—Lando takes his time.

Every press of lips, every graze of teeth, every deliberate swirl of his tongue is a love letter written straight to your nerves. One hand cups you gently, the other strokes soothing circles on your hip like he’s keeping you calm while slowly unraveling you.

It’s a lost cause, though, when his hands are still on you, roaming with slow, deliberate intent, the heat between you both intensifying with every touch.

He hums against your skin like he’s tasting something decadent—like he can’t believe he gets to have you first thing in the morning, still warm from sleep and wrapped in his clothes, all soft cotton and softer skin underneath.

The kind of view that makes a man forget pancakes ever existed.

His lips trail slowly across your chest, hands guiding you to lean back just slightly against the counter. The cold marble meets the small of your back, but you barely feel it—not when Lando’s mouth is working lower, kissing, sucking, lavishing attention like your body is the only thing worth worshipping.

He doesn’t just touch—he adores.

Each breast gets the full treatment, his tongue teasing lazy circles around your nipple before finally taking it into the warm heat of his mouth. And the way he does it? Like he knows exactly what it does to you. Like he’s been waiting all night just to wake up and do this again. Suckling slow, drawing out those needy little gasps from your lips as his fingers gently knead, thumb brushing against the other peak with just enough pressure to make your thighs instinctively press together.

But Lando notices. Oh, he feels it.

"Still with me?" he murmurs around your skin, voice hoarse, lips glistening, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

Your breath catches when one of his hands slips lower, tracing the path of your body like a man rediscovering a map he’s already memorized. His palm drags over your stomach, dipping lower until it finds the waistband of his boxers—your boxers now. The elastic gives just slightly under his touch, and he grins when he feels what’s underneath.

His fingers flex there, over the heat radiating through the thin fabric. Not inside. Not yet.

Just enough to make you twitch. Just enough to make you want.

Your head falls back against the cabinet with a soft thud, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers move in deliberate, maddeningly slow circles. The fabric adds a friction that’s almost too much, not nearly enough — rubbing perfectly against your clit with each calculated stroke.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. Knows how to play your body like it was made for his hands — and god, maybe it was.

“Oh, I knew it…” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-smooth, a grin audible in every syllable. “You’re already drenched, baby”

He chuckles softly, that deep, smug sound rumbling right against your skin — and then his mouth is on your neck, lips trailing heat down your throat, tongue teasing the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. He knows exactly where to go, where to bite, where to let his breath linger so it sends a shiver racing down your spine.

Your body arches toward him instinctively, the pressure of his hand against you through the thin cotton already driving you toward the edge of reason. Your fingers find his hair, threading through and pulling — not hard, but enough to say don’t stop. Not ever.

His palm stays pressed against your center, the fabric damp and clinging, the friction deliciously cruel. He keeps his movements slow, drawing lazy, purposeful circles that make your legs tremble. And then, without warning, his other hand slips behind your thigh, gripping firmly before he lifts it— strong and smooth — guiding your leg up and onto the edge of the counter.

Now you’re wide open for him, and he leans back just enough to look at you — really look — as if the sight of you, flushed and breathless, is something holy.

And you almost give up, right there.

His hand is still between your legs, his fingers now having more room to tease, to press. He lets them slide just slightly lower — still over the boxers — applying a touch that makes you gasp, your hips rolling into his palm on instinct.

He smirks, eyes flicking down, and then back up to meet yours — hot and teasing, voice thick with hunger.

“Fuck…” he breathes, almost to himself. “You look so goddamn good like this.”

His thumb presses down, slow and perfect, and your breath catches again.

“Wet in my Calvin’s” he whispers, dragging the words out like honey over skin. "Wide open for me"

“Fuck…” you groan, voice already fraying at the edges. Your hands reach blindly behind you, gripping the edge of the counter for balance — or maybe just to look for something to hold to keep you grounded.

His mouth curves into a smirk, and you can feel it, even without looking. “Still sore from last night?” he murmurs, breath hot against your jaw.

You nod, barely, swallowing a moan.

“Good,” he growls, the sound rough and thick, like it’s coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Means we did a good job, right?”

You nod again.

His fingers press even harder through the soaked cotton now. Pads circling, teasing, tormenting.

“Now…” he whispers, lips brushing your ear, voice soaked in sin, “Do you think i can make you come in my underwear?”

He's a menace. A walking natural hazard, a threat to your self-control.

The words land low in your belly, heat blooming and spreading, curling like smoke through your veins. You let out a breathless laugh — shaky, already undone — but it’s cut short by a moan as he doubles down, fingers moving faster, firmer, his thumb now working cruel circles against your clit.

The kitchen feels like it’s burning — golden light spilling through the windows, catching on the sheen of sweat at your collarbone, painting everything in warmth and want. But you only feel him — his fingers, his breath, his body pressed between your thighs, commanding every inch of your attention.

You turn your face toward him, eyes fluttering open, meeting his gaze — and it’s so much. Not just lust. Not just hunger. But that quiet intensity that says I see you. That says I love you, even when the words aren't spoken.

“Lando…” You writhe under his touch, thighs trembling, the soaked cotton now barely a barrier at all — more like a wet invitation. He watches you fall apart, eyes dark and hungry, and when he speaks again, it’s low and dangerous.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs, voice like smoke. His thumb presses down just a little harder, making your body jolt.

“Feels… so good…” you pant, head falling back.

He grins, slow and dangerous.

“Yeah?” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Want more?”

You nod. Frantic. Needy. Lost.

That’s all he needs.

His fingers slip past the waistband — finally, finally — into the soaked heat beneath. The contrast of skin-on-skin after all that teasing makes you cry out, head tipping forward as your body arches into him like it’s the only thing it knows how to do.

The second his fingers slide inside you — bare, deep, warm — something in you shatters. Your body arches off the counter, hips rolling into his hand as your breath stutters in your throat. He groans low, drawn out and dark, like the feel of you clenching around him is his own personal high.

“Fuck, baby…” he breathes, watching your face twist with pleasure. “So tight… and still so fucking sensitive, I can feel it”

That word — sensitive— lands somewhere deep, sparking a memory of the night before. The way he stretched you, filled you, took you until you couldn’t stop shaking. And now, he’s back at it — and your body can’t decide whether to cry or beg for more.

His fingers start to move — not gentle, not tentative. Intentional. Purposeful. He’s not here to tease anymore. He’s here to ruin.

He thrusts them deep, curling just right with every motion, dragging across that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll and your thighs clench. His thumb doesn’t leave your clit, circling in sync with the rhythm of his fingers — pressure steady, cruelly perfect.

The soreness flares with every thrust — a tiny spike of pain that sharpens everything else. It’s not enough to stop you. It’s enough to drive you mad.

“Lando—fuck, baby—” you gasp, voice caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. “—oh god—it’s so good.”

He growls, low and pleased, leaning in until his lips brush your ear.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, fingers fucking into you harder now, relentless. “You like that sore? That little ache, don’t you? Knowing I wrecked you last night and you’re still dripping for more.”

Your head lolls back, mouth open, a desperate sound escaping you as your thighs start to tremble.

You’re squirming now, hips lifting off the counter with every thrust, chasing the edge you can feel mounting like a storm behind your ribs.

“Lan…” you whimper, voice trembling like the rest of you as you tilt your chin up.

That small invitation to kiss you that he knows so damn well.

And oh, accepts it. And it’s not just a kiss, no. It’s a kiss that presses you open and holds you there, like he’s pouring heat through your mouth and straight into your bloodstream. And all the while, his fingers don’t stop. No mercy. Just the right kind of torture.

The tempo shifts—subtle, but devastating. He finds that exact rhythm, the one that has your toes curling and your thighs trembling like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and the wind’s about to push you off. He drives you, steady and sure, until your moans melt into each other like honey over heat.

“I can feel you’re close,” he pants on your lips, staring down at the way your body clings to him. “… You gonna make a mess for me, mh?”

And you want to answer — you do — but your body is already deciding for you.

It’s not a fall, not even a crash—it’s a detonation. It hits like a tsunami. Sudden. Violent. Beautiful. A full-body, breath-snatching, soul-lifting kind of high. It doesn’t even feel real, except it so is. A wave so strong, your body just… surrenders.

Your orgasm crashes through you, tearing a scream from your throat as your body spasms, clenching around his fingers so hard it nearly knocks the air out of you.

“Oh fuck…” You cry out against his mouth, a sound that’s pure electricity, your body jerking with the force of it—legs shaking, hands gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing tethering you to Earth.

But then it doesn’t stop. Oh. No it doesn’t. Suddenly it’s all warm. And wet. And everywhere.

A second wave hits, and your whole body jolts — thighs shaking, toes curling, back arching as the pressure inside you explodes outward.

“Oh—shit—” Lando gasps, eyes going wide as you squirt unexpectedly, the release soaking his fingers, his hand, and absolutely drenching his white boxers.

You collapse against him, trembling, moaning through it, half-laughing through the haze of pleasure and disbelief.

“Holy fuck,” he says, voice low and completely wrecked. “Look what you just did baby…”

And he doesn’t stop. His fingers slow, gentle now, coaxing rather than pushing—like he’s drawing every last ripple from the pond, refusing to let you fall back to Earth without floating you down himself. You tremble against him, boneless and buzzing, while he holds you through the aftershock like you’re something precious.

The two of you just stand there for a moment, breath mingling, hearts still racing in tandem.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look down—and yeah, he’s obsessed. His boxers are a masterpiece of chaos now, dark and dripping, so completely see-through and soaked with proof of just how thoroughly he undid you. He gets lost in the sight of your cunt that shines under the drenched cotton and he runs a hand over the fabric, the wet sound making you shiver all over again.

You’re sprawled across the countertop, utterly undone, wearing his Calvins clinging to your hips like they’ve just survived a thunderstorm. Which, in a way… they have.

“I mean,” he says, voice rough but playful, “I was already a fan of these Calvins, but now? I think they deserve their own shrine.”

You chuckle and finally lift your head, blinking slowly like you’re waking up from a really, really good dream. A smile curls at the edges of your mouth—lazy, wicked, drunk on pleasure—and you kiss him again, slow and deep, lips brushing

He kisses you back with the same energy, one hand settling over your ribs like he’s memorizing the rhythm of your breathing. Then, pulling away just an inch, he rests his forehead against yours. Eyes searching. Voice softer now.

“You okay?” he murmurs. There’s a flicker of something real in his tone—tenderness hidden beneath the cheekiness, concern behind the cocky grin.

You nod immediately, smiling wider. “Perfect.”

And you are. You’re melted chocolate and warm honey. You’re a puddle. You’re ruined in the best possible way.

When you finally pull back, you smirk, eyes gleaming.

“You know,” you murmur, “Bad Bunny looks amazing in Calvin Kleins too.”

Lando snorts—like, full-body snort-laughs against your neck, burying his face there for a second as his shoulders shake with it. He chokes on a laugh, pulling back slightly to look at you, one eyebrow shooting up in faux betrayal. “Wow. So I give you the best orgasm of your life and you’re already thinking about other men in underwear?”

“Yeah, well,” you say, laughing with him "he probably doesn’t have pre-made meals labeled by day in his fridge...”

➽───────────────❥

you can find my masterlist here !! Also, feel free to leave feedback in the comments or in my inbox! let me know what you think!

@your_username

My boyfriend is hot… somehow

@landonorris: I thought we agreed to delete that last one 💔

@_user1: The second-hand embarrassment is REAL 😭

@_user2: No because WHY is he driving like he’s in a Fast & Furious audition

@_user3: The "somehow" in the caption sent me 💀

@_user4: The elevator one has me cryingggg he's just THERE

@_user5: Not the “boyfriend dump” turning into a full roast

@_user6: She woke up and chose violence and we SUPPORT IT 👏

@_user8: This is love. This is what love looks like 💀

@_user9: Every picture just gets worse I can't breathe 😂

@landonorris

Tried to get my revenge with a “girlfriend dump” but turns out she’s just too perfect 🤷‍♂️ not fair tbh.

@_user1: Bro this is the worst revenge I’ve ever seen 😭 she ate every single one of these

@_user2: You just gave us free girlfriend appreciation content 😂👏

@_user3: Lando accidentally joined the “I love my gf” club

@_user4: not him tryna roast and ending up making her look like a Vogue feature 💀

@_user5: be fr Lando, are you even trying??

@_user6: WHERE is the flop pic??? WHERE’S THE TROLLING??

@your_username: actually the only issue with this is that you’re the one taking them baby 😭 it’s not me, just you are a terrible photographer

@_user7: AHHHHH THAT’S SO REAL 😭

@_user8: omg wait can we get a full dump of all the terrible Lando angles 👀

@_user9: YES we demand a “he took this” compilation 🔍

@_user10: Petition to make @your_username’s next post just “photos Lando ruined”

@your_username

Does anyone else have a boyfriend completely incapable of taking a decent photo of you or is it just me 🫠

@landonorris: i feel attacked but also i stand by the finger-in-frame one, that was artistic.

@_user1: Nooo bc why is this the universal boyfriend experience 😭

@_user2: This post is so real it hurts 💀

@_user3: He’s got one job and still manages to flunk it 💔

@_user4: THE SHADOW ONE??? i screamed. he really said “let me ruin the lighting real quick” 😭😭

@_user5: Girl we need a full series called “Photos Lando Ruined” pls

@_user6: Lando’s camera roll gotta be 90% near-misses and blurry masterpieces

@_user7: Why are boyfriends allergic to good angles 😩

@_user8: Honestly the effort is there but the execution is… not 🫢

@_user9: pls drop a tutorial for him. or confiscate his phone. idk at this point

@landonorris

Happy birthday to the most beautiful, most chaotic, person I know 💘

@_user1: WAIT. These are actually good. LANDO DID YOU TAKE THESE YOURSELF???

@landonorris: YESSS I DID 😤 it only took 200 tries but LOOK AT HER

@_user2: Be honest bro who helped you 😭

@_user3: no bc that second one is giving Pinterest-level lighting??

@_user4: Is this… growth??? character development??? 😭👏

@_user5: man went from “thumb in frame” to editorial real quick

@your_username: okay but let’s not lie, I had to direct him like a whole photoshoot crew 😌 love u tho

@_user6: not her still being the creative director

@_user7: drop the behind-the-scenes pls. we need the chaos reel.

Author note: please feel free to comment and message me, it's the only way I can know your tought and feed-back on my stories and it felt good as an author :) Thanks

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Y/N had left the club two hours ago. Quietly. Without a word. The party was too loud, the music too heavy, the laughter too fake.

Everyone there knew of Lando, but they didn’t know him. Not really.

Not like she did.

Not like the boy who’d shared her juice boxes in kindergarten. Not like the boy who’d cried when he scraped his knee and let her hold his hand even though it “wasn’t manly.” Not like the man who always found her eyes in a crowded room.

So she slipped away.

No scene, no drama. Just her phone on silent, her heels in one hand, and the night swallowing her whole as she made her way back to his apartment—the one with the guest room that felt more like her room now. Her toothbrush was already in the drawer. Her book, half-read, was still on the nightstand.

She tried to sleep, but the silence was worse than the music. Restless, she turned on the lamp and sat with her knees tucked to her chest, a paperback in her lap.

But she wasn’t really reading. Her eyes kept drifting to the door. She told herself she wasn’t waiting for him.

But she was.

The apartment door opened.

Footsteps. Heavy. Uneven. Keys hit the floor, followed by what sounded suspiciously like his shoes.

“Y/N?” he called out, voice thick, slurred, but unmistakably Lando.

He appeared in her doorway a second later, shirt half-unbuttoned, curls tousled, a flushed and drunken mess. And then, without warning, he collapsed onto the bed.

More specifically—onto her.

“Jesus, Lando—!” she gasped as he practically draped himself over her, face buried in her chest, one leg over hers, full dead weight pinning her to the mattress.

“Mmm,” he hummed, snuggling into her like a cat who'd just found the warmest sunbeam. “There you are.”

“You smell like every bad decision ever made in a nightclub,” she said, but her hand was already threading through his curls on instinct.

“You smell like...heaven,” he sighed dramatically. “Warm. Like cocoa. Or...biscuits. Or the future. I dunno. I’m poetic now. Drunk Lando talks in sonnets.”

She snorted. “You’re wrecked.”

"I came in like a wrecking ball," he sang off-tune and so horribly that she couldn't help the laughter, she could feel his body moving on top her as he joined her.

As the laughter died down, he held her a bit tighter and rubbed his cheek right over where her right breast was under the thin material of her night clothes.

Her breath hitched.

“You ever think about... time?” he asked suddenly, quietly.

She frowned, confused by the change in tone. “What kind of time?”

“Like... how it runs out,” he said. “How I’m twenty-six now. My mum had me around this age, I think. My dad became a millionaire. My teammates have girl friends and some of the drivers have kids. Kids. I have gaming, a sim and an espresso machine I don’t know how to clean.”

“You also have a championship point lead, ten something million fans, and a very warm chest pillow right now.”

He exhaled a laugh as he kissed her chest, but it came out strained.

“I don’t have you though, do I?”

The words landed heavy, and it took her a second to respond. “You do have me, Lando.”

He shook his head against her. “Not the way I want to.”

She blinked. "Lando—I—what?"

He ignored her. Or maybe he didn’t hear. His hands were already moving—one sloppily sliding under the hem of her sleep shirt, palm spreading across her bare hip possessively, like he needed to make sure she was real.

“So soft,” he murmured against her chest. Then added, in a whimper, “But I’m not supposed to touch.”

Her heart stopped.

“What are you saying, Lan?”

“I know the rules,” he mumbled, nose nuzzling the swell of her breast. “No touching the best friend. No loving the best friend. No telling her she’s everything and then kissing her stupid in the rain. Tragic tale of unrequited love.”

“Lando,” she said slowly, brows drawn together, “what is going on with you?”

He tilted his head up to look at her, eyes unfocused and glassy, but devastatingly open. “It’s my birthday.”

“I know,” she said softly, trying to keep up with the rapid change of topics. "We just celebrated your party, you came here from it, and I left early"

“Everyone wanted a piece of me tonight, fucking tossers, ” he muttered, eyes closed. “But you’re the only one who just… left.”

“I didn’t want to share you with a hundred half-drunk strangers,” she said honestly. “I knew I’d get the real you eventually.”

He smiled into her chest. “Lucky you. You get drunk Lando, half-naked and emotional.”

“Drunk Lando is a menace.”

She stayed silent as he didn't reply, her mind trying to run over the things he had said, but she still came up with nothing, it was like her mind had lost the ability of comprehension.

"D’you remember that one summer?” he asked out of nowhere again, voice blurred.

Drunk lando was very nostalgic, it seems.

“The year we were, like, sixteen? I stayed at your place after Silverstone, and I slept like a baby the whole week.”

Her lips twitched. “You mean the week you ate all the cereal and snored like a bear?”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. That one.”

She waited, heart now hammering.

“You always made me feel safe, Y/N,” he said. “Still do.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not when he shifted again, one arm worming under her, the other hand tightening on her hip.

“I think you’re confusing safety with me letting you cuddle me like a body pillow.”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Don’t ruin this.”

She shook her head in disbelief, but let him stay there. Let herself hold him.

"Everyone in my life has a plan, sometimes I feel like I'll be left behind, you know?"

Y/N frowned, shifting to look at him. “Lando. You don’t need to have your life mapped out perfectly. That’s not how it works.”

He buried his face deeper into her, voice muffled. “Easy for you to say. You’ve always had your shit together. Even when we were seven, you used to organize your crayons by the rainbow.”

She snorted. “And you used to eat glue.”

“Allegedly,” he muttered.

"You'll fine someone Lando, I'm sure of it."

Though, by the way he talked tonight. It seemed like 'someone' was her. But it couldn't be, they were just best friends...right?

No she would just put all this in a box and lock it in her mind. Lando was obviously too drunk.

A beat of silence passed.

Then, almost too softly to hear:

“Don’t want someone.”

Her chest tightened.

“What do you mean?”

He looked up at her, eyes hazy but too honest.

“Want you.”

She stared. Air stalled in her lungs. The box opened and crashed into the floor.

“Just you,” he said again, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Want you in my bed. My house. My whole stupid life. Want your hand with my ring on it.”

Then squeezed the other hand on her hip possessively. “And I wanna put my babies in here.”

Her. Babies. In here.

“Jesus, Lando,” she whispered, dazed. “Lando, maybe we should talk about this when you’re—”

“Sober? No. Because sober me chickens out. Sober me pretends it’s just jokes and banter. But I meant it, Y/N. I want it all. The house. The ring. The stupid white fence that gets dirty after one storm. I want your toothbrush next to mine forever.”

He clumsily reached for her left hand, fumbled with her fingers.

“I will put a ring on this one. Someday. Not today. But someday. I mean it when I say that Y/N”

"I've meant it since we were seven," he looked straight into her eyes as he said it, and it was the quietest of whispers but she heard it, she also heard the sound of her own heart beating rapidly in her chest.

She could feel the heat of him, the weight of every word, the ache behind it all. His head dropped back to her chest like a child exhausted by his own tantrum, and slowly, his breathing evened out.

He was asleep. Fully, helplessly asleep. Still half on top of her, arms curled around her waist like she was the only lifeboat left in the storm.

__________________________

Y/N didn’t even try to move. She just blinked up at the ceiling in the dusky blue light of early morning, her arms tucked around his back, her fingers still threaded absently through the soft waves at the nape of his neck.

She should’ve shoved him off, probably. Or at least shifted him so she could breathe better. But she didn’t. She just lay there.

Because the weight of him was comforting.

Because her heart was doing something completely inappropriate and ridiculous.

Because he’d said—

Nope.

She blinked hard, scrubbing the memory of those slurred, whispered words from her brain like that’d actually help.

As if she could forget the way he’d cupped her hip like it meant something. Like she meant something. As if the feel of his lips against her collarbone hadn’t lit a fire in her that was now smoldering low and constant in her chest.

She wasn’t going to survive this.

Not the memory of Lando stumbling into the room, drunk and stupid and heartbreakingly honest. Not the way he’d collapsed on top of her like she was home. Not the way he kept whispering just you, like it was obvious, like it was inevitable.

Like it had always been her.

Y/N breathed in slowly through her nose, grounding herself in the scent of his shampoo, the scrape of stubble against her skin, the rhythmic weight of his breathing. Her mind was sprinting laps but her body? Her body had never been calmer.

It was Lando.

It had always been Lando.

And maybe she’d spent too long pretending it was normal, the way they gravitated toward each other like magnets. The way he always looked at her first when he laughed. The way he said her name like it was some kind of prayer and a joke all at once. She'd gotten so good at pretending he was just her best friend that she'd forgotten how deeply she felt it.

Or maybe she’d just been scared.

I'm in love with my best friend, I'm in love with Lando.

A soft grunt rumbled against her chest and then—there he was. Waking up.

She felt it first: a twitch in his fingers on her waist, the slow unfurling stretch of someone trying to piece themselves back together. Then the drag of his face along her skin as he shifted, his nose brushing lazily between the swell of her breasts.

And then—he froze.

She didn’t say anything. Just kept stroking her fingers through his hair like she had every right to, like he wasn’t currently sprawled half-naked on top of her with one arm still tucked beneath her and his leg wedged between her thighs.

“…Y/N?” His voice was sleep-rough, dry, and unmistakably terrified.

She bit her lip. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Oh fuck.” He didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe for a second. “Oh fuck. Am I—am I on top of you?”

“Technically? Yes.” She smiled into his curls. “Though you’re not exactly crushing me, so points for that.”

He groaned. “I am so sorry. I don’t even—how the fuck did I get in here?”

“You came home from your birthday party. Very, very drunk. Apparently your motor functions still knew how to find my room.”

“I didn’t—” He finally lifted his head, squinting at her through bleary eyes, a slow bloom of horror spreading across his face as the reality of their positioning fully registered. “Oh my god. Was I—was I being weird? I didn’t, like… try anything, right?”

She let the question hang. Not because she didn’t have an answer, but because his answer would matter more later.

And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—make that call for him while his breath still reeked of club gin and regret.

Instead, she arched a brow, tone dry as toast. “Well, your head was between my tits for a good six hours, so if that counts, then yes, Lando. Deeply inappropriate.”

He vaulted off her like he’d been shocked, flinging himself sideways across the bed with all the grace of a baby giraffe. “Fuck me. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, that’s dramatic.” She sat up slowly, letting the blanket fall around her waist. “You didn’t bite me. Or drool on me. Much.”

He buried his face in both hands. “Please tell me I didn’t puke on you.”

She laughed. “No, thank god. I'd be traumatized.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, muffled through his hands: “I feel like I might be.”

She watched him quietly for a moment, taking in the wild curls flattened against one side of his head, the smudge of glitter still clinging to his cheek from the club, the pillow clutched to his lap like a lifeline.

She could’ve told him.

Could’ve laughed it off or teased it out of him or demanded answers.

But instead, she just stood, grabbing her robe from the end of the bed and tugging it around herself.

“Go splash some water on your face,” she said softly, leaning down to kiss the crown of his head. “I’ll start breakfast.”

She didn’t look back as she padded to the door, but she felt him watching her go.

And the echo of his words from the night before followed her all the way into the kitchen.

“Want you in my bed… my ring on your finger…”

“…put my babies in here…”

Y/N closed her eyes and exhaled.

_________________________

Y/N had already set the table when Lando finally staggered in, his movements sluggish and slow. He looked like he'd been run over by a freight train, and the unholy groan that escaped his lips made her smile.

"I made breakfast," she said, gesturing to the plates she'd prepared, stacked with toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. A light, comforting meal to help with his hangover. "You look like you need it."

Lando dropped into the seat across from her, his head hanging low, eyes half-lidded, and he muttered a grumbled thanks. His fingers fidgeted with the fork, eyes still unfocused, occasionally flicking up to her.

He didn’t know what it was—maybe it was how serene she looked as she took her first bite, or how the morning light made her skin glow just right—but he found himself staring at her.

Her lips. The way she chewed slowly, savoring the food, but with such grace. There was something almost hypnotic about the way her lips moved, and Lando was doing everything he could to not watch.

Y/N noticed his gaze, but she didn’t comment, pretending to be absorbed in her breakfast. It was strange. How had she never realized how much Lando always looked at her? Not just looked at her, but really looked. He'd always done it. She’d filed it away as his usual teasing, nothing more. But now?

She almost felt stupid for having never seen it before.

They ate in a comfortable silence, though it wasn’t as easy as usual. She could sense his discomfort, the way he squirmed in his seat, clearly trying to find a way to process whatever had happened last night. And that’s when Y/N decided it was time to end his misery.

She placed her fork down and met his eyes with a level, calm gaze.

"You know," she said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "I always like being first in things, you know? So I’m honestly very disappointed in myself right now."

Lando blinked, looking up at her, a little confused. "Why?"

"Because," she continued, leaning back casually in her chair, "you realized you were in love with me before I did. And honestly, between the two of us, I’m more emotionally mature, so I feel like it should’ve been me, you know?"

Lando froze mid-chew, staring at her wide-eyed, his fork halfway to his mouth. His lips parted, but no sound came out. He was completely caught off guard, and Y/N couldn't help but find amusement in his expression. The way his face morphed between confusion and disbelief made her heart skip.

"Wait, what?" he finally stammered, his voice hoarse. "You—what?”

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly, trying to contain the smirk tugging at her lips. "Last night was a bit of a revelation. It's always been there, but it was the first time I really realized that, yes... I'm in love with my best friend."

She took a sip of her orange juice, watching his face closely. "How could I have not noticed? Honestly, I feel a little dumb."

He was silent for a long moment. His gaze didn’t leave her face, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to process everything she’d just dropped on him. The awkwardness between them hung thick in the air, but it felt charged, somehow… almost relieved.

"You… you’re not messing with me, are you?" he finally whispered, still not fully trusting his ears.

Y/N shook her head, feeling a rush of warmth spread through her chest.

“No. Not messing with you. Just being honest.”

Then she decided it was time to add the cherry on top. "Oh, and by the way? Last night? You said something about—" she paused for effect, seeing his eyes widen in alarm, "—wanting to put a ring on my finger, a house with a white picket fence, and maybe some babies. With your hand on my bare hip."

The color drained from his face, and he groaned so loudly that it echoed through the room.

“I—oh bloody hell,” he moaned, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I—fucking hell”

Y/N couldn't help it—she laughed. The sound bubbled up from deep inside her, and she couldn’t stop. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, trying to soothe him, but she was shaking with amusement.

"You were so drunk last night," she teased, a grin still tugging at her lips. "It was kind of adorable, actually."

He groaned again, the shame on his face so complete, she nearly felt it. She reached over, resting her palm on his cheek, her thumb brushing over the roughness of his stubble.

“Look, Lando, it’s fine. I’m not mad. I’m actually kind of glad you said something." She smiled softly, “Because now we both know.”

His expression softened, the weight of the moment finally sinking in.

Y/N could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and the air between them thickened, as though the next moment was hanging in the balance. And then, without any more words, without hesitation, Lando stood up, his movements swift and determined.

He rounded the table, the chair scraping behind him, and before she could even register what was happening, he was in front of her. He cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing her lower lip before he lowered his head, and—

The kiss.

It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. He kissed her like he was starving, like he had been waiting his whole life to feel the taste of her lips. His mouth was soft but insistent, his hands gentle on her face but his body pressing into hers, eager and desperate.

She parted her lips in surprise, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that had her entire body lighting up in flames.

It was slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring every single moment. The taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the feeling of his lips pressing against hers with a tenderness that shattered all the things they’d ever been to each other.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, eyes wide with the realization of what had just happened. Lando rested his forehead against hers, panting softly.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice rough.

“I love you too,” Y/N breathed out, her heart racing.

And before she could say anything else, his lips were trailing down her neck, soft kisses sending shivers down her spine. She moaned softly, unable to stop herself as her body arched towards him, the feeling of his lips against her skin intoxicating.

His grin stretched against her throat, a satisfied, devil-may-care grin that made her pulse quicken all over again.

"God, you're perfect," he murmured, lips still pressed against her, sending little electric jolts through her.

And then, without warning, his arms were under her, lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Wait, what—" she gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"Just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable," he smirked, his voice teasing as he swung her up into his arms, cradling her like a bride.

"Land—oh my god, what—"

"Don’t worry, I know we can’t have babies yet," he chuckled, his lips close to her ear, "but we sure can practice, don’t you think?”

Y/N squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he carried her toward the bedroom, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I love you!” she giggled, her arms winding around his neck as he dropped her onto the bed, his body following immediately, pinning her beneath him.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips, kissing her again, this time with more urgency, more heat.

And there, tangled in the sheets and in each other, they both found everything they'd been looking for, over and over again.

________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

This was the last request that I had already started writing for, so I completed it as soon as I could, anon who requested this, I hope you find it, this was so much fun to write for, thank you so much for requesting!

Letting everyone know that all my inbox has been erased, so if anyone requested anything, I'm so sorry I couldn't save it. You can request it again when I open the requests. Thank you so much and I'm so sorry.

Jules♡

The sound that escapes you when Lando does fly by that waving checkered flag is something between a sigh of relief, a disbelieving laugh, and an excited squeal. Tears spring to your eyes immediately, ones that you do your best to keep at bay as Cisca wrangles you in a bone-crushing hug whilst she cheers at the top of her lungs. 

You barely have enough time to get your wits about you before she’s pulling you along behind her firmly, weaving through the crowd like a mum on a mission.

Race weekends are normally hectic like this, but Monaco is something different entirely. Heading towards Lando is something different entirely. Here, especially, in the streets of the city you live in and love almost as much as the boy that’ll be on that top step of the podium in no time. 

Before you know it, you’re on the track, waiting behind a wall of track marshals in orange jumpsuits for a glimpse at your winner as his car pulls up to the P1 sign.

His fluoro green helmet pops over everyone else a few beats later, fists swung over his head victoriously, happiness and pride radiating off him in waves. 

After stowing away all his headgear, Lando spots his dad first, then his mum. You stay back just a little, wanting Lando to have his celebration moments with his parents—the two people who’ve made this all possible, the two whom he loves more than anything in this world. 

Cisca sees this and tuts, pulling you in front of her as soon as she's had her moment with her son. Lando goes positively squinty with joy, reaching out to touch you anywhere he can. He gets your shoulder first, squeezing it like he can’t quite believe you’re here in front of him, celebrating a win as monumental as this with him. 

“Hi! Oh my god, hi, babe, congratulations!” You exclaim, letting out a watery laugh. It’s a weird angle to try and hug him over the barrier and between other people, but you’ll take it. Lando gets his arms around you the best he can, pressing his cheek against yours. “You did amazing, Lan, I’m so, so proud of you!” 

“Marry me,” He breathes. 

You freeze. Maybe the crowd around you is so loud you’ve somehow misheard him, maybe you’re having auditory hallucinations for whatever reason, but you could’ve sworn Lando just asked you— 

“Marry me.” 

There it is again, so clear it couldn’t possibly have been a figment of your imagination. You finally manage to look at him full on, just so you can confirm the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“What?” You ask dumbly, too caught off guard to string anything else together. Lando stares back at you fully unwavering, still holding your hands, still beaming. 

“You and me,” He says, like those three words explain everything. “Let’s get married.” 

Before you can say anything, he gets pulled away by someone you can't see. The wall of people closes up in front of you, and suddenly he’s gone, just up and disappeared in a whirlwind of other people like he was never here to begin with. 

Only he was here, and he’d just asked you to marry him. 

Funnily enough, it isn’t the first time he’s said anything about marriage. The other few times have been mostly in passing, mostly all in good fun and nothing serious. 

You made his favorite meal one night and it tasted so good he said he’d marry you right on the spot through a mouthful of pasta. You swung by MTC to drop off his phone because he’d left it on the bathroom counter in his mad dash to not be late to work again and he mentioned something about wife behavior with a kiss pressed to your cheek. Those were small, seemingly a result of Lando’s affectionate personality and his love for you. 

This is the first time he’s actually asked you to marry him, though. You could chalk it up to the sheer adrenaline likely coursing through his veins at the moment clouding his judgment, but it feels different than that. It feels like he truly means it. 

And now you have to haul ass over to the podium, pretending like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you and then left. Granted, he had no choice but to leave with the way he was swept away, but it still leaves you hanging all the same. 

How long has the idea of marriage been on Lando’s mind? 

You try not to let the thought consume you as you watch him with nothing but the utmost pride of him on the podium above. He’s made another one of his childhood dreams come true today, one of many more achievements to come, and he’s smiling so hard it looks like it just might hurt. 

Lando spots you in the crowd and waves, sending a wave of champagne showering down from above. He laughs when you stick your tongue out at him, blowing you a kiss before turning to spray his fellow podium goers with bubbly. 

The sight of your boyfriend on the top step of that podium is something you’ll never tire of as long as you live.

Or maybe he’s your fiancé now, you’re not exactly sure. All you know is that there’s a conversation the two of you need to have. Preferably soon, preferably before you think into things too much and freak yourself out like you tend to do during big moments. 

-------

It’s late when you finally make it home. After the prince’s gala, after the afterparty, after the after afterparty. 

Lando kicks his shoes off by the front door, fingers already pulling at his tie as he pads towards the sofa and flops onto it with a heaving sigh. You linger behind, slipping off your heels and setting your purse on the table before you follow his path, albeit in a much more reserved fashion. 

Truthfully, you’re about ready to drop right into bed and sleep for days. But this is the first moment you’ve had alone all day and you don’t want to waste another minute. 

The prince’s gala was no place to have this conversation, nor was the afterparty that stretched on into the wee hours of the morning. Now it’s just the two of you, in the comfort of the home where you’ve been building your lives together, and it feels like the right time. 

“What a day, huh?” He says when you sit down, smiling lopsidedly at you. 

His previously neat tie is now entirely askew, cuffs of his pressed white shirt unbuttoned and pushed halfway up his forearms haphazardly. He’s even undone the top button of his trousers to untuck his shirt, no doubt a relief for him. Pretending to be posh to play nice with dignitaries for hours takes its toll on a person. 

If you’d thought he’d looked like something straight out of your best dreams all night, you’ve never been more in love with him now. This is a version of Lando only you get to see, away from all the people and the flashing cameras. Away from the public, in the place he feels he can be truly himself. 

You hate to disturb the peace and quiet he finally has after the events of today, but you don’t think you can wait any longer. “Were you serious earlier?” 

Lando pauses, gulps visibly. He blinks at you. “About what?” 

“You know what.” 

“Oh…you remember that?” He asks sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

A laugh escapes your mouth, not sharp or mean or anything. Just a laugh. “Kinda hard not to, after your boyfriend basically proposes to you out of the blue.” 

“I am pretty unforgettable.” His attempt at lightening the mood is a long shot, even for him. 

“Did you mean it? Like, is that something you’ve been thinking about?” 

He’s quiet for a concerningly long time, eyes darting around the room all the while. You can almost see the gears turning in his brain, which you aren’t quite sure is good or bad. 

On one hand, if Lando was serious, you’d be over the moon. When you ask yourself the question of whether or not you can picture yourself as his wife, the answer is a resounding yes. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you love him more than anything in the world. 

But if he wasn’t serious—if the impromptu proposal was nothing but a product of spiked adrenaline—you’d like to know. 

You’re starting to think it might be the latter, but then he suddenly sits up straight and looks right at you.

And then he takes off towards the kitchen without a word. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You call incredulously. There isn’t a thought in your mind as to what Lando could be doing right now that is more important than the conversation you’re having. 

He doesn’t answer, but you can hear him opening and slamming drawers shut. That still doesn’t clue you in on his actions, though. When he finally does come running back in, he’s holding something small enough to fit in his closed fist.

“I wanna do this properly,” He says, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. 

“Do what?” You tilt your head, brows furrowing as he clears his throat. “Lando?” 

“Ever since the day we met, you’ve always been there for me on the bad days and the good ones. You’ve lifted me up at my worst, made my best even better. You’ve dealt with everything—the late nights, the early mornings, the weeks away from each other at a time—and you’ve never once stopped loving me as I am.” 

You know exactly where this is going and you’re pretty much crying already because of it, doing your best to sniffle your tears away so your mascara won’t run down your face and make you look crazy. 

Lando switches to one knee. His eyes shine bright with unshed tears too—manly tears, he’d call them. 

“I don’t think I could do what I do without you in my corner, and if I could it definitely wouldn’t be much of a life without you to share it with. I knew pretty early on in our relationship that you were gonna be the girl I’d marry one day, so you’d think I’d have a fucking ring ready, but y’know,” He shrugs, blowing out a puff of air between his lips, “When have I ever been known for thinking things through ahead of time?” 

“Not often, no.”

“Alright, you ass! You’re not supposed to agree with me!” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to say no, baby, you’re so good at planning things out.” 

“Need I remind you about our trip down the Amalfi Coast last year?” 

“No, you don’t, actually. Just let me propose, damnit!” 

“Sorry, sorry, go on,” You laugh. You pretend to zip your lips and throw away the key, to which you receive a satisfied little nod in return. 

“Thank you. Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, you’re it for me. Always have been, and nothing could ever change that. So, will you make me the happiest muppet alive and marry me?” 

At last, he opens his hand, and you finally get to see what he’d gone scavenging through the kitchen drawers for. 

Sitting in Lando’s palm is a crudely fashioned silver circle, slightly misshapen but still resembling somewhat of a ring. He holds it out towards you, smiling bigger and more hopeful than ever. 

“Yes, oh my god, Lan—is that a fucking paper clip?” 

Lando’s cheeks flush pink. “Yeah, it is,” He laughs, high pitched and nervous. “I was looking for, like, a key ring or something. But I couldn’t find anything except this, so I improvised.” 

“It’s perfect, Lan. I love it.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that until it’s actually on your finger, so…what d’you say? Let’s grow old together?” 

You lean forward, cupping his cheeks in both hands gently. “I say that sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.” 

“Marry me and see just how many good ideas I’ve got, baby.” 

“What are you waiting for then, you muppet? Put that ring on my finger.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it!” He laughs breathlessly. He nearly drops the ring in his attempt, blushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “Fuck, it doesn’t fit, does it? Hang on, lemme just—” He pries the thin metal apart with his teeth, a picture of the utmost concentration as he carefully loops it snugly around your ring finger. “I’ll get you a real ring soon, I promise.” 

“I like this one,” You insist, shaking your head. 

Lando snorts, rising from bent knee to collapse onto the sofa next to you. He doesn’t let go of the hand that now sports his creation. “I don’t. I’m gonna get you a ring with a diamond so big it blinds people. Makes them really get that you’re mine forever. That soon enough, you’ll be my wife. My wife! God, does that sound nice to say out loud finally.” 

“Out loud? Like, you’ve been saying it in your head? Often?” 

“Maybe once or twice. Occasionally. And it definitely isn’t your contact name in my phone. In other thoughts, completely unrelated, maybe don’t check my phone.” 

“Got something to hide, Norris?” You tease, knocking your knee against his. 

“Other than my complete and undying love for you, my future wife? I can’t think of a single thing.” 

“Compromising texts with Max?” 

He inhales sharply through his teeth, bobbing his head. “Bollocks. Got me there.”  

“Fucking knew it. Max has always been my competition.” 

“Well, he’s not the one I’m marrying, is he?” 

“No, he is not,” You say, not even trying to hide your satisfaction. “I am.” 

“Hell yeah, you are. C’mere, you.”

He kisses you near hard enough to bruise, grinning so hard his teeth click against yours as he does. Somehow you end up on his lap, a leg thrown on either side of his body as you make out until you have to break apart to catch your breath. 

Lando rests his head back against the cushions, gaze flicking between your face and the makeshift ring on your finger like he can’t decide which to pay attention to more—your smile, or the promise of a lifetime together in the form of a paper clip. 

“Not sure if I’ve told you tonight, but you look gorgeous in this dress. Seriously, it looks amazing on you,” He hums, tracing a finger along your thigh. 

You perk up at his words, eyes brightening. “You think so?”

It definitely isn’t the first time he’s voiced his appreciation for your dress, but you lean in to kiss him again for the compliment anyways, only to be stopped when he puts his lips by your ear before you can, voice lower and tinged with something more insinuating than fashion praise. 

“But I think it’ll look better on the floor when I take it off you.” 

It had been a long week for both you and Lando. Despite it being the mid-season break, Lando had still been busy with meetings, promo shoots and with testing. So you weren’t expecting much when you got home from work. You’d exchanged sleepy voice notes about your days, memes and chaotic facetimes of him showing you his and Oscars latest antics at the MTC, but that was pretty much the only times you’d interacted.  

As soon as you stepped through the door, tired and hungry, you didn't expect the smell of home cooking to hit you. No Lando scream laughing at his stream from down the hallway. No text for uber from him earlier in the afternoon or the smell of one of his microwaved prepared meals from his dietician that you’d come to recognise. 

“Lando?” you called out as you pulled off the sneakers from your feet and stepped further into the apartment. The lights were low, music was softly playing from the kitchen and you could hear the faint clattering of pots and pans. 

There he was. Your man, standing at the stove, his damp curls resting against his forehead weaning a hoodie and your apron. His laptop was open, his screen paused on a recipe of your favourite meal. The kitchen? Well that looked like a war zone. 

He turned his head as you walked through the door, cheeks slightly flushed. “Hey babe,” he said so casually as he turned back to stir the pan in front of him. 

“You’re cooking?” you asked, not surprised but just not expecting it. No anniversary, no special occasion. 

“Wanted to surprise you for dinner. We haven’t had a date night just you and me for ages and you deserve it.” 

Your heart clenched in your chest, “baby…” 

“Nope. Don’t use your ‘baby’ voice on me,” he groaned dramatically as he pointed the spatula at you, “I don’t even know if it’s edible yet.” 

You tried to take a peek into the pan to see but he shoved you away quickly, “nope. Not until it’s done. It’s a surprise. And if you see an amazon order for a new vegetable peeler and pan…no you didn’t.” 

You shook your head, not even wanting to know. 

“Also, mum says hi and is Saturday okay for lunch?” 

You laughed, “you called her for help with the recipe, didn’t you?”  

“You can’t prove anything!” 

You had just enough time for a shower and to get into some comfortable clothes when Lando called you to the dinner table. The room was dark, the table filled with candles and a new bunch of flowers in a vase in the middle. Two places were set up opposite each other and on the platte in front of your space sat a meal that looked so damn good. 

“You…you learned to cook my favourite meal?” 

He pulled the chair out for you and pushed it in as you sat down and took the space opposite. 

“Took me three tries to get the sauce right and I had the help from YouTube and my mum. I also cut my finger,” he said as he showed the bandage wrapped around the tip of his index finger, “but yeah. I did.” The grin on his face was so damn cute. Like a kid showing off their artwork at the end of a school day. 

Your heart was full to the brim. He looked so sweet in that moment, his eyes so full of love for you. “Thank you baby.” 

He watched you with anticipation as you picked up your fork and took a bite. You chewed thoughtfully, taking a moment to savour all the flavours and textures. “Oh my god. This is actually so good, Lando!” 

“Don’t sound too surprised!” he replied as he took a bite of his own. He let out a moan and shook his head, “okay. No. This is actually amazing.” 

“Alright, don’t get cocky now,” you laughed. 

He shot you a wink, “too late, call me chef Lando.” 

His thighs straddle the bench, solid and wide, every inch of him brimming with tension from disuse and the stubbornness to push through. You’ve seen him like this before—when he’s about to make a move, whether on track or in bed. This version of him, concentrated and messy, is your favorite.

You forget the words you meant to say. Something about a snack? Or that it’s too hot to be doing this? You can’t even clear your throat, let alone form a sentence. Your legs stay rooted to the floor. The air is thick. His skin glistens.

But it's not his skin that keeps you staring.

It’s his fingers.

The way they curl and flex as he stretches them, knuckles taut, tendons shifting beneath skin. He winces a little as he grips the middle three tighter, jaw ticking. You can’t tell if it’s pain or just pressure but it doesn’t matter. All you can think about is how those fingers would feel against your skin. Inside you. Around your throat. Holding you open.

Your mouth nearly waters.

You cross your legs, needing something—anything—to press against. It barely helps. You can feel your pulse between your thighs.

That’s when he notices you.

“I’m almost done, babe,” he says without much thought, voice low and casual. He glances down at his fingers, still working them slowly. The motion shouldn't feel intimate, but it does.

“Oh,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like he’s suddenly aware of what exactly you're staring at. His thumb strokes along the length of his middle finger, absentminded but devastating.

Your brain stutters back to life, though your voice is breathy when it comes out.

“Ma-maybe I’ll join you.”

His eyes flick up, wide, and for a second it’s like he stops breathing altogether. You take a step forward. Then another. You don’t break his gaze, even as it darkens with something heavier.

He drops his hand to his thigh, still spread wide around the bench, and watches you approach.

“Yeah?” he says, voice rougher now. “You wanna help me stretch?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you say, voice light, almost innocent. “I think I would take a stretch.”

You hold his gaze, letting it drop ever so slowly—down his chest, to the gleam of sweat on his abdomen, and finally to where his fingers still rest against his thigh. His lips twitch at the corner, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He just watches.

You step over the bench and straddle it, knees brushing against his. The closeness makes your breath hitch, the warmth of his skin radiating straight into yours.

“Comfortable?” he murmurs.

“I could be.”

You both glance down at the same time—at his hand. His long, slick fingers. He flexes them again, slower now, deliberately. The movement makes your mouth part on instinct.

“Can’t stop staring,” he says, voice soft and dangerous. “Bet you’ve been thinking about them all day, haven’t you?”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. The way you shift in place, grinding subtly into the bench for friction, says it for you.

“Tell me,” he leans forward just slightly, voice just for you now, “what exactly do you want them to do, hmm?”

Your breath shudders. He lifts his hand and brings it to your knee—doesn’t even grip, just rests it there—and your whole body tenses.

“I—” Your eyes flick to his hand. “I don’t know.”

He grins. “You do know. Don´t be shy about it now.”

Then, without warning, he brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Open.”

You do. Obedient. Eager.

He slips two in, slowly, and you close your lips around them like you’ve been craving the taste. He groans low and under his breath but you catch it. You swirl your tongue around them, watching his eyes darken, his pupils blown wide as your mouth works him.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

You moan around them soft, needy and the sound makes his jaw clench. His hand tightens slightly where it rests on your knee.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re soaked already, aren’t you?”

You nod, still sucking, your thighs clenching around the bench. He slowly pulls his fingers out, the sound slick and sinful.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet,” he says. “And you’re already falling apart.”

You lean in closer, desperate for more, but he just smirks.

“Patience,” he murmurs. “We’re just getting started.”

The air between you crackles, thick and heavy. His fingers are still glistening from your mouth when he slowly drops them to the bench, dragging them along the edge just beside your thigh—close enough to make you flinch, but not touch.

“I could make you come,” he says, almost conversational, “without ever fucking you.”

Your thighs twitch.

“Just these fingers,” he continues, lifting them again, letting you watch every lazy curl and flex. “Two inside, more if you’re greedy. Curl them just right. Thumb on your clit. I wouldn’t even need to move much, you’d do all the work for me.”

You swallow hard, your mouth dry again despite what just happened. You’re starting to breathe through your thighs, desperate for pressure. For anything.

“Poor baby,” he hums. “Already squirming. And I haven’t even touched you there yet.”

He reaches forward now, finally, hooking his hands under your thighs and tugging—slow, strong—until you're sliding forward, legs falling wider around his knees, straddling him open and shameless. The bench presses hard beneath you. The only thing grounding you.

You grip the sides of it to keep yourself upright, arching slightly back as he leans in, his face still maddeningly calm. Like he has all the time in the world.

“Such a good view like this,” he mutters, tugging at the hem of your shorts. “Look at you.”

You make a soft, breathless sound—half protest, half plea—but you lift your hips, let him peel the shorts down, and when he does, he curses.

“Fuck.”

His thumb brushes just barely over the soaked fabric of your underwear. He groans again, dragging the edge aside for a peek.

“Oh, baby… it’s so easy. I knew you were already this wet.”

The sound you make isn't even a moan—more like a gasp, a choke of arousal and embarrassment all in one.

He smiles, slow and sharp.

“You love it when I talk like this, don’t you?”

You nod, breath hitching again as he lifts one hand—that hand—and brings his thumb back to your mouth.

“Open.”

You part your lips again, greedier this time. He slides in with purpose now, pressing down on your tongue, keeping your mouth full while his other hand starts to move—slow, torturous circles against the inside of your thigh.

Not quite where you need him. Not yet.

You moan around his thumb, hips shifting involuntarily, trying to chase friction.

“Not yet,” he says, voice thick with control. “I’ll tell you when.”

And the worst part?

You want him to.

Your breath catches as his thumb presses down harder on your tongue. He watches the way your lips part, the way your jaw slackens around it, like he could read every desperate little thought spilling through your mind just by the way you take his touch.

“Bet you taste as good here,” he mutters, half to himself, then drags his thumb out, wet and glistening.

His other hand trails up—finally, finally—over the inside of your thigh. You feel the brush of his knuckles first, then the slight dip of his wrist as he moves in.

And then contact.

One slow stroke through your folds, slick and unbearably sensitive. You jolt at the first touch, head tipping back slightly, a broken sound slipping from your throat.

He groans softly. “Fuck, you’re dripping.”

You nod, barely breathing, back arching even further, hands gripping the bench behind you so tightly your knuckles go white.

He teases again just one finger, lazy and slow, tracing circles around your entrance without dipping in.

“You want it?” he asks, voice low and smug.

“Y-yes,” you pant. “Please.”

He hums like he’s considering it—like he hasn’t already decided what he’s going to do.

Then, slowly, he slides one finger in.

Your body clenches around it instantly, a shiver running through you at the stretch of it, even if it’s just one. His hand stills inside you, and your hips buck forward instinctively.

But he doesn’t move.

“Feel that?” he asks, leaning in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just one, and you’re already so tight.”

You whimper, trying to move your hips again, but his free hand comes down on your thigh—firm, steadying.

“No, baby,” he whispers. “You stay still. You let me have you like this.”

Then, torturously slow, he starts to move that finger—curling it up, dragging it out, then back in. Unhurried. Deep. Precise.

You’re already shaking.

He adds a second, and you cry out, hips rocking despite his grip. He doesn't stop you this time—he lets you ride his hand for a moment, lets you get just enough friction to start climbing toward that dizzying edge.

Then he stops.

Completely.

You gasp, body tense and twitching, your walls fluttering around nothing.

“Lando—please—”

“Not yet,” he says again, with a cruel smile. “You don’t get to come just because you want to.”

You groan, your head falling forward, forehead brushing against his shoulder. You're panting now, every muscle strung tight.

He leans in, kisses your cheek so softly it makes you ache.

“I’ll give you what you need,” he murmurs. “But not until you beg for it. Not until you’re so fucking desperate you can’t say anything else.”

Then—two fingers again—thrusting deep, curling hard into the spot that makes your vision blur.

But just as you start to unravel—

He pulls away.

“Please,” you whisper—voice cracking, small. “Lando, please, I need— I need to—”

He watches you fall apart on the edge of the sentence. Your chest rising and falling, thighs trembling around him, hips twitching as if your body’s trying to finish what he keeps denying.

“Need to what?” he asks, softly cruel. His fingers are still buried inside you, unmoving, just there—reminding you who’s in control.

You shake your head, helpless. “Please. Let me come. I can’t— I need it.”

A long pause.

Then he shifts. His other arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you forward until you’re straddling his thighs completely, chest to chest. You clutch at his shoulders for balance, breath fanning across his neck.

“Alright,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. “You’ve been good.”

And then he moves.

His fingers curl up inside you again, that perfect rhythm returning like he never stopped. Deep and precise. Every stroke sends a sharp, blinding jolt through you. His palm presses against your clit now, every motion designed to undo you.

It doesn’t take long.

You’re already so close, your body trembling with the force of it, moaning shamelessly into his neck. Your hips grind down against his hand, chasing it, needing it.

And when you finally come, it rips through you like a wave—loud and messy, your body jerking, thighs clenching around his. He holds you through it, arm firm around your waist, keeping you grounded while you writhe and cry out against him.

But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers stay inside. His thumb keeps circling. You flinch from the sensitivity, but he just shushes you, his voice all dark velvet now.

“Shh… I know, I know. But you can take it.”

You barely have time to process it before he starts moving again—deeper now, slower but relentless.

You squirm in his lap, trying to lift your hips, but his arm around your back tightens.

“Oh no, baby. Not done yet.”

You’re breathing in gasps now, mind foggy with overstimulation. His fingers drag over that same spot again, and your whole body jerks.

“You think you can take one more?” he asks, voice low and thick.

You don’t know what he means—another orgasm? Another finger?

But it doesn’t matter. You nod, frantic, clinging to him.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Open up for me.”

And then—a third finger presses against your entrance, joining the others slowly, stretching you further than before. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, head tipping back.

You’re full. Too full.

And still—you want more.

The third finger slides in slow—but it still punches the air right out of your lungs.

The stretch is too much. Too good. You collapse against him without even thinking, your body folding forward as your arms scramble to hold on to something—his shoulders, his chest, his neck. Anything to stop you from tipping over completely.

“Easy,” he murmurs, voice thick with arousal, the barest rasp curling around the word. “You feel that, baby?”

You nod barely, a choked sound falling from your lips that doesn’t resemble a word at all. Just a noise, raw and wrecked.

It goes straight through him.

Your head rests on his shoulder now, lips parted against his skin, and you're making sounds that have no place in the daylight. Unholy sounds—wet and breathy and trembling—moans that spill right into his ear, sending visible shudders down his spine.

He breathes out a curse and tightens his arm around your waist, anchoring you to him.

And then his thumb moves again.

A soft, slow drag over your clit, slick and maddening. Your whole body jerks, thighs twitching violently, but there’s nowhere to go—his hand between your legs, his body caging you in.

You try to close your thighs, instinctively trying to shield yourself from how much it is, but you can’t. Not with him there—his hips wide between yours, thighs bracketing you in place.

“Lando—fuck—Lando, I—” It’s barely a whisper, more like a sob.

You clutch at your own thighs now, hands fisting in your own skin, trying to ground yourself, to hold something through the crushing intensity—but nothing helps. Not when his fingers keep moving, deep and deliberate inside you, his thumb unrelenting.

You’re already there again. It crashes into you like your whole body is detonating from the inside out.

You go still—then trembling—hips stuttering, breath gone completely.

All you can do is whimper, face buried in his shoulder, thighs shaking around him, as your body clenches around his fingers and the high keeps going.

“That’s it,” he growls, voice right in your ear. “So fucking good. God, listen to you. Can’t even talk.”

You shake your head, still trying to breathe. Still feeling it. Still full.

And he hasn’t stopped.

You don’t even realize when he slips his fingers out—when that delicious, punishing stretch is suddenly gone. All you know is the cold shock of emptiness, and the warm, slow tease of him dragging his fingers through your folds instead. Light. Feather-soft. Too soft.

Your whole body twitches, hips trying to follow the sensation, to sink back onto him again—but there’s nothing to sink onto.

“Lando,” you gasp—voice barely there. Just air and heat.

You’re fully collapsed against him now, skin flushed and damp, face buried in his neck, breath stuttering against his pulse. Wrecked. Unraveled. His other hand strokes idly over your lower back, holding you there like you belong.

And those fingers—those fingers—are tormenting you.

They circle the rim of your entrance, slow and teasing, never pressing in. Just tracing, dragging through slick, rubbing softly through folds that are aching, twitching with the aftershocks of your last orgasm and the rising threat of the next.

You let out a broken, pleading noise that you can’t even name. Your whole body trembles against his.

He leans in, mouth grazing the shell of your ear.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, and it’s maddening gentle and cruel all at once.

Your only response is a shiver, a whimper that sounds like yes. He chuckles low in his throat, and you feel it vibrate against your skin.

“I think it is,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth along the side of your neck. “Look at you. Completely gone. Just because of my fingers.”

And then he kisses you there lazy kisses, open-mouthed and slow, just under your jaw, the kind that make your head spin all over again.

“You love being like this, don’t you?” Another kiss, this time higher, nearer to your ear. “Pressed against me, soaking my lap, crying for it.”

He dips his fingers again—just once, shallow, before pulling back and brushing over your clit once and you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted, whimpering into his neck.

“Mm, yeah,” he groans softly, biting your shoulder. “You’ll beg for it again in a minute, won’t you?”

You nod, desperate. Wordless.

And still—he waits.

“Lando, it’s too much, I— I can’t,” you whisper, voice cracking at the edges, more breath than sound.

“I know,” he murmurs.

And still, he doesn’t stop.

He shifts with you like it’s easy, like he’s carried you this way a hundred times. One arm stays locked around your waist, guiding you as he lays you back gently on the narrow bench, body following yours. You're still clutching him, thighs spread and shaking, hips twitching at every brush of air.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers again, hovering over you, face barely an inch away. “Say the word.”

You don’t. You can’t. You’re too far gone, trembling under the weight of his body and the ache of his absence where you need him most.

He smiles—not smug, but soft. Like he knows every part of you now.

His lips press to yours. A gentle kiss, slow and unhurried, like you're not already soaking his lap and half-crying from how badly you need him. He kisses down your neck, tongue trailing, teeth grazing, then nibbles at the curve of your ear.

You gasp again, another moan escaping you, your body arching into his even without thinking.

Only then does he finally pull his hand up from between your legs, fingers soaked, dripping, glistening in the low light. He stares at them for a beat, breath catching.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes dark. “Look what you did.”

You can only watch him wide-eyed, panting, almost pleading.

Then he brings those fingers to his mouth.

And sucks them clean.

Slowly. One at a time. Licking each digit like he’s tasting dessert, groaning low in his throat. His tongue flicks at the base of his knuckles, and your thighs twitch again.

You’re dizzy watching him.

And when he’s done, he looks at you again eyes smoldering now, like he's barely holding himself together.

He reaches down, trailing his wet fingers across your lips.

“Open,” he whispers.

You do.

And he slips them in.

You suck greedily, tongue swirling around them, and it’s him who moans now deep and ragged, his hips dropping hard against yours, finally chasing friction.

The contact shocks a gasp from you both.

You feel it—him—hard and heavy through his shorts, grinding slowly into your soaked heat. The thin barrier does nothing. You feel every movement, every flex of his hips as he lets himself finally take what he needs.

“God, you feel that?” he growls, pulling his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down your chest as he ruts against you. “I’ve been holding back all fucking day.”

His forehead drops to yours, breathing hard.

You’re already so open to him, thighs still twitching, lips parted around the breath you can't catch—so when he finally shifts, tugging his shorts down just enough to free himself, it feels like the world holds its breath.

You certainly do.

And then he presses in.

There’s no warning. No teasing. Just one slow, thick glide of his cock between your folds, catching at your entrance—already so soaked, so ready for him—and then he pushes, hips firm and steady.

You gasp, legs falling wider as he sinks into you inch by inch.

He fills you so deeply it makes your back arch right off the bench, your nails digging into his arms, eyes fluttering shut with a choked moan.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, voice wrecked. “So tight—always so tight for me.”

He stays there for a moment, buried to the hilt, not moving—just feeling. Letting the stretch and fullness overwhelm you both. You shudder beneath him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Then he pulls back. Slowly. Until just the tip is left inside.

And thrusts in again deep, deliberate, like he’s staking a claim.

You cry out, head rolling to the side, breath catching.

He finds his rhythm like it’s instinct—slow, firm strokes that rock your body against the bench, controlled but possessive. Every thrust feels like a promise. Like he wants to imprint himself inside you.

“This what you needed?” he murmurs, mouth at your jaw, one hand sliding up to cup your face as he drives into you again. “Needed me to fuck you like this slow and deep, where no one else can ever reach?”

You nod, whimpering, gripping at his back now, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

His forehead presses to yours, lips brushing yours between kisses and curses and panting breaths.

He groans again, slower now, hips dragging all the way out only to slam back in, grinding against your pelvis, his cock hitting every sensitive spot with devastating precision.

“Feel so good,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect like this, spread out for me, taking it all.”

You moan louder, hands tangled in his curls now, body arching into his, chasing every drag and press of his cock like it’s the only thing that matters.

His hand slides down to your thigh, pulling your leg higher around his waist so he can sink even deeper if that was possible. The change in angle rips a cry from your throat.

He groans again, deep and low, like it’s killing him to hold back. But he does. For you.

You don’t know when the tears start.

It’s not from pain—never from that. It’s the pressure, the fullness, the way his cock keeps hitting that spot so deep inside you it turns pleasure into something unbearable, almost too much to hold.

You blink, and they fall—slow trails down your temples as you lie back on the bench, your body trembling, shuddering beneath him. His thrusts haven’t sped up still slow, still deep but they’ve gotten heavier, more deliberate, like every single one is meant to stay with you.

He sees it the second your lip quivers.

“Baby,” he breathes, the word catching in his throat.

He leans in immediately, brushing kisses to your cheeks, catching the tears with his lips as his hand comes up to cradle your face.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers against your skin. “You’re okay. I promise. You’re doing so good for me.”

His voice—low, warm, soothing—makes your chest tighten in a different way, something emotional blooming beneath the tension coiling in your gut.

You’re close again. You can feel it. Your body’s trying to run from it, hips twitching, legs shaking, but there’s nowhere to go not when he’s pressed so deep inside you, holding you so gently even while he fucks you open.

“I know it’s a lot,” he murmurs, kissing your lips now, slow and careful. “You’re so full, huh? So fucking wet, clenching around me like you can’t help it.”

You cry out at that, sobbing into his mouth, your nails digging into his back again as your body tries to contain it this aching pressure, this need to fall apart one more time.

“I’ve got you,” he says again. “Let it go. Let me feel you.”

He shifts just slightly just enough and suddenly that perfect, devastating drag of his cock has you gasping, clenching around him so hard it’s instinct, involuntary.

“Oh my—Lando—fuck—”

“That’s it,” he growls, voice tight and trembling now, his own control slipping as your body contracts around him. “Fuck, baby—God, you’re milking me—”

It tips you over like a wave crashing into shore. Your orgasm rushes up through your spine, curling you forward into his chest as your thighs shake violently around his hips. Your whole body tenses, then breaks sobbing, gasping, your cries muffled against his neck.

And that’s all it takes.

He groans a sound so raw and desperate it vibrates against your heart and his hips slam forward one final time, grinding into you as he comes, thick and hot and deep, filling you completely.

“Fuck—fuck, baby—oh, shit,” he pants, his voice wrecked. “You feel so good—so fucking good—”

His whole body shudders above you, and he collapses into your chest, still inside you, holding you like you might disappear.

You're both breathing hard now, tangled together, soaking and shaking and quiet.

He kisses you again. Your cheek, your temple, your lips. Each one soft, reverent.

“You okay?” he whispers against your mouth, voice hoarse.

“I love you like this,” he says, breath still uneven. “Fucking ruined and mine.”

You're both still trembling, bodies sticky and flushed, tangled together on the narrow bench like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

His breathing slows against your skin. One arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, anchoring you, the other hand tangled in your hair as he presses slow kisses to your temple, your cheek, your jaw.

You smile—barely, weakly—still catching your breath. Your legs feel like they’ve melted.

And then, voice low and wrecked but laced with a tease, you whisper against his neck:

“Thanks for the stretch.”

He freezes for a second—then laughs. That warm, wrecked kind of laugh, breathless and totally undone.

Y/n almost feels her stomach ache from just how deep Lando pushed himself this morning. He's gone to get the loud crying baby who y/n was almost too dazed to really pay attention.

"There's mama." Lando smiles lying Violet in his side of the bed while the disheveled baby smiles brightly at the young woman who is almost certain Lando just tried to get her pregnant again.

Lando did a quick clean up of his wife before he went and got Violet who thankfully wasn't woken up by her parents having sex three rooms away.

"I think she likes you better than me." Lando mumbles jokingly while y/n settles down a little shuffling to lie down properly looking at Violet who stares back at her with adoring eyes.

"Rightly so." Y/n laughs lightly before she sighs and looks at him with a huff. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" Lando questions hiding a smirk while y/n looks at him with a deadpanned expression.

"You want another baby."

"I want to make the MILF in my bed feel as good as I know I can make her feel. That's not a crime and if it just so happens to get you pregnant, then I'm definitely not going to complain." Lando shrugs innocently while y/n hums then smiling as she sees Violet pulling the teddy bear to her face. "We could have another one easily."

"Yeah, of course you'd say that. You didn't give birth." Y/n snorts while Lando sighs knowing that is the point to end all arguments and he really can't say anything because it's true.

-

Y/n yawns as she returns from putting Violet down for a nap and decides to make herself and Lando something to eat since he's on the simulator ahead of another race.

However, Lando has already crept out of the sim/gaming room and shifting over up behind y/n and pushing her forward against the counter and caging her between his arms.

"Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off of you?" Lando questions planting hot and wet kisses on her skin while she smiles shaking her head but he keeps hold of her pressing his further into her ass.

"You really need to learn to keep it in your pants, Lando." Y/n laughs while feeling herself melt as he kisses her neck again and continues melting away the faux front that she's denying his advances with.

"I'm just saying you're a milf." Lando smirks a little while y/n smiles to herself out of his line of sight.

"You don't need to say it. You proved that this morning."

"Can I prove it again now?" Lando hums as one hand slowly slides to her front and moves his hand down her shorts while y/n surrenders because honestly why deny herself the pleasure? She knows she's going to enjoy it and she knows he is too. Violet is asleep and while the rule is to sleep while she does she wasn't going to anyway.

"Fine." Y/n giggles pushing the food aside and leaning over the counter since she isn't intending to move other further than where they are now.

-

Lando has proven that he's taken every nap from Violet as an opportunity to the point that the end of the day has came around and the moment Lando climbs into bed y/n almost pushes him away when he tries to cuddle her.

"Ow what was that for?" Lando whines after almost landing on the floor from the force of her pushing him from her.

"I am sore, Lando. Keep that dick away from me for the rest of the night. I can't cope with anymore of it." Y/n states watching a smirk quirk it's way onto lips as he climbs back towards her and practically tackles y/n into a kiss that she doesn't bother fighting but she does break early. "That's all you're getting."

"No more sex today." Lando promises then kissing her again. "But you have to accept cuddles, I might be able to keep my dick to myself but my hands aren't capable of that."

"I'm aware of that." Y/n laughs before she sighs when Violet's cries echo through the apartment. "I'll get her. Might need her as a means of keeping you tamed."

"No, you promised no baby in the bed for the night. That was your words."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Y/n laughs then sighing as she returns to Violet's room. "Are you saving mummy from more sex? Your dad is insatiable."

"I know she's young but it feels wrong for you to say that stuff." Lando comments suddenly clearly having followed her to make sure she didn't actually bring Violet in. "Is she ok?"

"She's fine. Just fussing. She's like you, gets fomo." Y/n jokes as Violet already starts to slowly drift off to sleep again. "See?"

"You get fomo way worse than I do."

"I know, but I just like to blame you for her flaws. It's easier and if you want another baby, you'll take it on the chin." Y/n smiles then sighing as Lando moves over and they both look down at Violet. "She's the luckiest baby in the world-"

"Because she has a milf of a mother."

"And you say I'm speaking inappropriately." Y/n scoffs shaking her head. "Come on, let's go to bed and you can cuddle me while keeping your dick very much to yourself."

"Aye aye captain." Lando salutes then picking y/n up and throwing her over his shoulder while she gasps and holds back a screech, not daring to disturb Violet.

But he gets y/n back to the bedroom and gently places her down, knowing any throwing onto the bed would also wake up Violet.

"Ok, sleep time." Lando whispers climbing under the covers. "I love you, my MILF."

"I love you too, my DILF." Y/n smirks earning a groan.

🔸️ date ──── Mar. 25, 2025

🔸️ a/n ──── Here’s a little quickie to hold you over before I drop a 10k (so far) one-shot later this week. That mf has been living rent-free in my brain for a month now, and if I don’t end up posting it, you guys officially have permission to throw tomatoes at me. Enjoy this while you wait 💋

THERE’S STILL A lot of noise ringing in Lando’s ears, even as he’s dragged from one obligation to the next. The podium was nice, the feeling of being drowned in champagne and cheers always welcome, even though it can get really uncomfortable. It’s been a weekend full of twists and turns that, thankfully, is coming to a happy ending for him. But the real celebration awaits in his driver’s room.

However, it seems like the universe has decided to taunt him some extra today, with the post-race interviews where every question feels like it stretches time longer than naturally possible, and the conference where he has to relive every lap, as if there weren’t thousands of cameras that captured every angle of the race.

A real-life purgatory, that’s what it feels like.

His body is still running hot, adrenaline refusing to settle and, trough it all, there’s only one thought consuming his mind. He’s trying not to think about her, though, or the orange mini dress she picked out weeks ago for the season opener. He even tries not to imagine the curves of her body every time he blinks or to hear her soft voice in his mind, that sweet whimper that makes him more tense with every touch.

Lando grips the back of his neck as he listens to another useless question, his patience wearing thin. He can still feel the weight of her teary eyes on him earlier, the way she had smiled at him when he climbed out of the car. It was quick, a moment stolen in the chaos, but he caught it. It was theirs. And ever since, he’s been aching to get back to his girlfriend.

From the conference he is dragged straight to the debriefing and, by the time that finally ends, Lando is already moving before anyone can stop him; he mutters something about needing a minute and storms down the hall. His race suit is still damp from sweat and champagne, hugging his muscles, the collar pulled loose where he had yanked at it earlier. His curls are a mess, damp at the roots, and his entire body is vibrating with something more than just the thrill of the first win of the season.

He doesn’t hesitate at all when he reaches his room. Just opens the door eagerly, closing it just as quickly. The second he sees her, his stomach flips.

She’s already standing up from the little couch, her face lighting up the moment she realizes it’s him. “Congratulations, my lo—”

Lando is on her in an instant, crossing the small space with long steps and grabbing her waist, lifting her off the ground. She gasps in surprise, laughing breathlessly as her arms wrap around his neck, her fingers threading into his damp curls at the back of his head.

“Oh! Someone missed me, I see,” she giggles, breathing against his cheek.

Lando exhales deeply, his chest heaving, hands tightening around her hips. He can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but her warmth against him, the scent of her sweet perfume mixing with the sharp tang of champagne on his suit.

“You have no idea. I was losing my fucking mind,” he admits, chuckling in return. He presses his forehead against hers, his breath hot. Purposely, his hands slide down her back, pressing her flush against him. “Thought about you the whole time. Could barely focus.”

Before she can catch her breath, her back meets the hard surface of the nearest wall. Another startled gasp leaves her lips, swallowed instantly by his mouth, his kiss demanding in ways she’s felt it before.

But not like this.

It’s the kind of kiss that takes her by surprise, leaves her thoughtless and very, very aroused. The dress has already lifted up her thighs, and they’re squeezing around him as if Lando could get out of her embrace if she’s not careful. What soothes her, however, is the fact that he is the one who pushes himself even harder against her, pressing his chest against hers until he almost leaves her out of breath.

Lando’s race suit is tight around his body, but he doesn’t have enough energy to care about anything else but her. All he knows is the way her lips part, letting him in like she has no choice, the way her fingers grip his shoulders, and the way his entire body feels like it’s still racing. Only now, it’s for and because of her.

She deepens the kiss, messy and uncoordinated, teeth grazing and tongues tangling in a tender yet rushed desire. Her hands run up the expanse of his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he holds her up effortlessly, her feet barely touching the ground. His biceps flex under her touch, and the realization that he’s holding back, restraining himself just enough so he doesn’t break her against that wall, only makes her more pliable in his arms.

“In here?” she asks between kisses.

Lando lets out a little noise while exhaling, feeling her heat pressed against him even through layers of clothing. One of his hands moves, lifting her dress even higher, until it hangs somewhere around the middle of her waist. His fingers are hungrily skimming her bare skin, until they find the waistband of her panties. He doesn’t have enough patience to tease. Just pulls at them, dragging the thin fabric down her thighs and letting it pool at her ankles.

“That answers your question?” asks Lando, feeling her nails digging into his shoulders as she tries to steady herself.

“Mhm,” she lets out a shaky breath, “So eager.”

Lando grins, shrugging, “Got some adrenaline left I need to burn off.”

He groans in frustration as he fumbles with his zipper, refusing to let go of her even for a second. Finally, he yanks it down just enough, his breath heavy as he works himself free with a sharp hiss. In all the rush, Lando’s hands won’t stay away from her hips for too long, keeping her exactly where he needs her.

The girl watches him, eyes filled with amusement despite the heat between them. Then she laughs, a silky sound that makes his heart race in his chest. Lando looks at her and something tender flickers in his gaze, even as he pushes his hips forward, even as the impatience still coils hot in his veins.

“You think this is funny?” he asks, lips curving into a smirk.

She shakes her head, though still amused at the image in front of her, and the way he’s so impatient he can’t even get out of the suit properly. “Nope. I think it’s hilarious.”

Lando scoffs dramatically, like he can’t believe her audacity. “Oh, yeah?” he challenges, his voice lower now. “Let’s see how funny you find this, then.”

Before she can throw another quip his way, his hand slides between her thighs, fingers trailing over her entrance with a lazy kind of intent. She sucks in a breath, all the amusement vanishing in a blink of an eye, her head knocking back against the wall as her body responds to his familiar touch.

Lando watches her reaction, the smirk widening on his flushed face. “Shit, you’re right,” he agrees, dipping his fingers in just enough to make her shudder. “It is hilarious,” he tilts his head, pretending to think. “Yeah. Getting wet so quickly almost has me rolling on the floor.”

He slides his fingers up and down her opening, then pushes two at once inside, curling them right before pulling out, only to make her squirm. Her thighs tighten around his waist, demanding more, but it’s not about her right now. It’s about him, making it a moment worthy of the Winner’s Room.

He’s painfully hard next time he cups himself, and the first press of his cock against her clit sends a shiver up her spine. Lando drags his length down her folds with uncharacteristic patience, until the distance between them diminishes completely, and he kisses her again, lazier than before. Their world becomes substantially smaller, and there’s just hot skin, erratic breathing, and the slick, aching need to be as close as possible. He lines himself up and thrusts in one smooth motion, punching a moan from her lips that she barely manages to swallow down.

Lando lets his forehead fall to hers, chuckling gently. “Not too loud, yeah?”

She shakes her head, “Don’t ruin the fun.”

He’s buried inside her, stretching so sweet that it sends a full-body shudder through her. The wall behind is harsh, but all she can focus on is the way he fills her completely. How he holds her there, with no chance to slip away. Not that she wants to be anywhere else but here, right now, with him.

Lando’s fingers grip her tighter as he pulls back, then slams into her again, feeling her walls pulsing faster around his cock. A broken whimper escapes her, her head falling defeated on his shoulder. It makes him curse under his breath, finally finding a rhythm that’s both deep and devastating. Each thrust forces a soft cry from her throat, her body moving in unison with his, nails raking down his sweaty back.

The way she pulls him in turns Lando on even more, the only sounds between them the ragged breaths and the wet, obscene noises of him fucking her right there, against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” exclaims Lando, biting down on her shoulder, his hips snapping up harder.

She lets out a hiss, her head is spinning while pleasure is building gradually, her body burning from the inside out. She fists his curls, dragging his mouth back to hers, swallowing his groans as she squeezes him.

“That’s so good, baby. Shit. Keep doing that.”

The way she feels around him, the way she moans and gasps his name, the way her body reacts to him like she was made for him — everything gets too much for Lando. Yet, he somehow finds himself craving more of her. His movements grow sloppier, pushing him to drive into her faster.

“Lando…” she moans his name in a whisper, cupping his face with the intention to kiss him. But the way he’s moving inside her makes her weak, so she ends up holding on to him with limited strength, like her life depends on it.

And right now, it does.

Their eyes meet just as he lifts her thigh higher on his waist, the small adjustment allowing him to sink deeper.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, her voice barely more than a breath. “You feel so—”

He doesn’t let her finish. A hard thrust has her choking on her words, and the way she clenches down around him makes his jaw go slack.

“Yes, tell me,” he urges, his voice too unsteady, hanging on by a thread, while his fingers press into the curve of her waist like he’s trying to brand himself into her skin.

She loses it, her hands tugging at his hair just to hear his little noises in return. “Feel so good, love,” she breathes heavily, her head falling back, exposing her throat. “Fucking me so good.”

A guttural curse escapes him, dragging her against him with a pace that makes her cry out in pleasure. “That so?” he rasps, his teeth grazing her jaw before his lips claim hers, swallowing every desperate sound she makes. “Then take it, baby,” he orders gently, “All of it. All for you.”

“Shit—don’t stop,” she begs, her eyes teary because of how tense with pleasure her body gets.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Feel how perfect you are? How fucking tight, hm? That’s it,” he encourages her, watching the way her lashes flutter open to look at him. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart?” asks Lando, going somehow even deeper with each thrust.

Her back arches, a broken moan spilling from her lips. She’s so full and desperate to come, and he knows she’s close; her whines and the way her body reacts giving it away in the most obvious way.

“Need you, Lan,” she breathes in spasms, “Please.”

“I can see that, baby. Come on,” he grits out, his movements turning frantic. “Let me have it.”

Her body trembles at his words, at the sheer heat in his voice. The way he holds her, firm and possessive, sends her spiraling. Every thrust, every rough snap of his hips only winds her tighter, like he’s pulling her apart piece by piece just to put her back together again.

“Lan-do,” she breathes, voice breaking on his name. “I… oh, fuck,” she can barely think anymore, barely breathe with the way he’s fucking into her, like stopping isn’t even an option.

His hand slides up her side, gripping the back of her neck, tilting her head so she has no choice but to meet his gaze again. His eyes are way too dark now, blown wide with lust, sending another wave of heat flooding through her veins. He goes harder when he sees the desire on her face, pushing her further against the wall, and she lets out a high-pitched moan before biting her lip, remembering where they are.

“Wanna feel you all over my cock,” she hears him saying, but she’s so overstimulated now that can’t quite process the meaning of his words. She’s not sure she’s even breathing as Lando presses his body against her with more force, continuing, “Be a good girl and let go for me.”

That’s all it takes. Her body seizes, her head spinning as pleasure rips through her, hot and intense. And endless. She clenches around him, pulsing, shaking, and the feeling, the sight of her unraveling for him, sends Lando spiraling too.

He chokes out a curse, burying his face in her neck as he surrenders, his hips pressing deep and desperate to keep her close as he fills her. The warmth spreads between them, spilling down her thighs, and the sheer filthiness of it only makes her moan, her fingers flying to curl in his hair once again.

Lando rests his forehead against hers, panting, his lips ghosting over her cheek. He doesn’t move away just yet. Instead, he pulls out, and a sharp whimper escapes her as she feels the mess they’ve made drip down her thighs.

Then, without warning, he pushes back in making her gasp silently this time, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“Wait, Lan,” she almost cries, her voice raw.

He keeps her still while he rolls his hips, slow and teasing, his other hand trailing down her stomach before settling low on her belly.

She shudders at the touch and at the way he’s still so deep inside of her, tilting her head and blinking heavy-lidded. “Wh—what are you doing?”

Lando barely hears her. His attention is caught on where they’re still connected, mesmerized by the way his cock glistens with their release as he continues to lazily move in and out. He watches the way her spent body still takes him in, so perfectly, his jaw clenching as pleasure coils in his gut all over again. It sends his head spinning, the wet sensation of skin on skin almost maddening.

Every shift, every sudden flutter of her walls around him, threatens to pull him under completely.

“Fuck, baby,” his raspy voice is laced with adoration. “I can look at you all day.”

Her body is already responding before her mind can catch up. She clenches around him again and again, and Lando chuckles lowly, the sound rich with satisfaction.

“Oh, shit! You like that, don’t you? Hearing how good of a girl you are for me, hm?”

She nods and, without meaning to, she tightens around him harder.

Lando’s grin turns smug. “Yeah, you do,” his hips still for a beat, his hands flexing against her waist before he gives her one hard thrust that knocks the air from her lungs. “Like that, baby,” he groans, the words dripping with heat. “Keep me in.”

The sensation of her pulling him even deeper rips a moan straight from his throat, and Lando drops his forehead to her shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Fucking hell, you’re killing me,” he rasps, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her damp skin. “Swear to God, I’ll come again if you—”

“Lando?” a muffled, familiar voice rings out from the other side of the door, accompanied by knocking. “Your parents are waiting, mate. You good in there?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

“What I wanted was to stay in Italy for another week.” His large hand finds yours and your fingers intertwine. “But I know my working girl has responsibilities and deadlines to meet and money to make and all that kind of stuff.” He lifts your intertwined hands up to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, the simple gesture sending an eruption of butterflies through your stomach. 

“Yeah well someone’s got to bring home the bacon in this relationship.” You joke, like Lando wasn’t bringing home a modest 30 million a year. 

“Well, racing isn’t gonna last forever, so I am gonna eventually need you to be my sugar mommy.” 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Your teasing causes a pink tint to spread across the apples of Lando’s cheeks and it makes you giggle at how easily you can get him riled up. 

He slides down in his seat, trying to make himself seem smaller, all while still anchoring himself to you by his hand. “Nothing wrong with liking to be taken care of.” Lando has never not been vocal (at least with you) about how he in all honesty likes to be babied. 

Sure, he loves taking care of you, but sometimes he just wants the woman he loves (you) to take care of him. Even before you two got together you were the person who would look after him after a particular shit race weekend and when he would visit you back in London he always seemed to just be able to let his walls down and be vulnerable with you. 

“I like that you need me.” You state, which has Lando feeling even more warm and gushy inside. 

“Never not gonna need you. You know that right? You’re stuck with me.” And Lando means every word that slips out of his mouth. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you in his life. For so many years you were his everything and now that he fully has every part of you he can’t imagine letting you go.

Your eyes soften at the man you love. There isn’t anyone else you’d rather endure this plane ride from hell with. Yet, with all the love you have for him, you can’t help but poke fun at him. “Unfortunately.” You say with a cheesy grin on your face. 

“You love me.” Lando pushes back. 

“Unfor-“ 

Lando interrupts you before you can push his buttons even more. “Wait, do you hear that?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, your head glancing around the cabin to try and figure out what he’s talking about. “Hear what?” 

“Exactly.” 

And that’s when you realize that there is nothing to hear, because the baby had stopped crying. You think you’d forgotten what quiet was for a moment and to finally have it back was pure bliss. Though the little slice of silence lasts for a few short moments because as the plane begins its descent the change in air pressure has the baby crying once more. “Well, at least we know we are almost home!” You say trying to be positive. 

“We could have still been in Italy.” Lando groans. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Adjusting to life back in London was a little harder than you thought it was going to be. It helped that you had Lando with you this week, but you wished so badly to be back in Italy. The Thames couldn’t hold a candle to the Mediterranean Sea and you could only dream that you would wake up to the calming lull of the waves and not construction and sirens. And while you were slowly adjusting it seemed like Lando wasn’t at all.

When Lando was back in London for work he usually just stayed with you or Max, so Lando staying at your place wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but him not letting Max or his family know that he was back home was out of the ordinary. After the third day of Lando being a hermit in your apartment all day while you were at work you finally confronted him about it. 

“Lan, I’m home!” You called out as you kicked off the world's most uncomfortable heels, your feet silently thanking you as they felt the cool flooring beneath them. 

“Kitchen!” You hear him holler back and by the smoke free air you’d have to conclude that he wasn’t trying to cook you dinner. Instead you find him standing at the counter in the middle of making himself a cup of tea. Your hands sneak around his waist, resting your head on his muscular back. A content sigh escapes past his mouth and you feel his free hand settle on your arm. 

“Hi baby. How was work?” 

“Very long and tiring. I’m glad to be home.” You reply before placing a kiss on his shoulder. 

Lando says nothing as he moves to grab your arm, leading you towards the couch. And by some miracle he sets his cup of tea down on the coffee table spill free while he pulls you into his side as you two plop down. “Missed you while you were gone.” His words are slightly mumbled as he plants a kiss onto the top of your head. 

Moments later his phone buzzes and your eyes can’t help but glance at the screen as he pulls it out of his sweatpants pocket. You barely see the contact name of your shared friend across the screen before he’s locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. 

“Lando.” His fingers ghost up and down your arm as he hums in response. “Why have you been ignoring Max?” You weren’t trying to pry into his business, but what you were saying was true. You’d seen the unread texts and for Lando to ignore his best friend, especially when he was back in England, was very out of character for him. 

His movements halted and you can hear the gears in his pretty little head turning. “I’m not ignoring him.” 

You shift on the couch so you can properly look at him. “Lando. You’ve been holed up in my apartment ever since we got back. What’s going on? You ignore Max’s texts to make plans. I see the missed calls from your parents. Are you second guessing things or do you not want people to know about us?” 

Lando’s eyes nearly bulge out his head at your suggestions and he’s reaching out for your hands faster than lightning. “Oh god no. God. No no no. Never in a million years would I not want to be with you.” 

“Then what is going on?” Your eyes soften at the man you love as you try to understand what’s going on in his head. 

“It’s quite selfish of me.” He finally admits with his head hung low while you rub your thumb across his knuckles, encouraging him to continue. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but I don’t want to have to share you with anyone quite yet. You going to work I can handle, but god we haven’t even gotten to really spend time together as a couple. Summer break is going to be over very soon and then that’s a whole nother beast we have to figure out and I know I’m very in my head about all of this but I just want you to myself for as long as I can. I don’t want other people’s opinions about you or our relationship to be all over the internet either. God why am I so in my head?” . 

Your heart swells at Lando’s words and while you understand how he feels, you know you’ve got to talk some sense into him as well. “I get it. We’ve been living in our own bubble this past week and now it’s even better that we’re together. It’s like the real world and reality are out to get us, but baby that’s life. And really I don’t give a fuck what anyone on the internet says about me or us because they’ve been saying stuff for years. It’s not anything new– I know what’s real between us and that’s all that matters to me and it should to you also.” 

You give his hands a reassuring squeeze, trying to convey just how serious you were about all of this. 

“Plus, I’m not worried one bit about once you start racing again, sure I’ll miss you when I can’t come with you, but we’ll make it work. What I am worried about though is you isolating yourself. I love that you love spending time with me, but Lan you gotta not let the anxiety of life get into your way. Even with this crazy life that you live you’re lucky enough to have people who care deeply about you and the rare occasion that you aren’t in England for more than a day or work and you chose to ignore them is not good for you. So take your phone out and tell Max that we’ll be over at his place Friday.” 

Lando sighs as he internalizes your words. Everything you had said was right. You always know how to get into his head and talk him off his anxiety induced edge. He can’t recall how many times you’d been there for him during a bad race weekend— granted this was nothing like that, but nonetheless he knows he can always confide in you and that you’ll always be there with love and the right words to say. 

And like the obedient boyfriend he is– he slips his phone out of his pocket and quickly sends Max a text. “Why not Saturday? Don’t you work Friday?” He asks. 

You shrug your shoulders at him like it was no big deal. “I got Friday off and we have other plans for Saturday.” 

“With your friends?” 

“No. We are having dinner with your family. I’ve been texting your Mom occasionally ever since we got back. Someone had to let her know her son was still alive.” 

Lando’s cheeks turn red in shame, he’s a known certified Momma’s boy and he knows his Mother was probably worried sick about him these past couple days. “I’ve always said she likes you more than me.” 

“Yeah well I actually respond to her messages.” You tease as you tuck yourself into Lando’s side, the couch pulling you in deeper. 

Silence fills the room for a few moments and it’s tranquil– golden hour cascading through your floor to ceiling windows as the two of you cuddle up on the couch, the feeling of Lando’s fingers running up and down your back as you listen to his steady heartbeat. 

“Thank you.” Lando is the one to break the silence, his voice soft and meaningful. You hum in response, waiting for him to continue. “Thanks for getting me out of my head. You’re my person, you know that? Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

The sun filtering into the room makes the golden brown flecks in his eyes pop even more and you can’t believe that this beautiful and caring man that you’ve had in your life for so long is now actually yours and that maybe if you would have opened your eyes sooner you could have had him this way for even longer. 

“I love you.” 

Lando’s face erupts into a smile and you can’t help but lean into his hand as it moves to cup your face. 

“I love you too.” 

He leans in for a kiss and when your lips meet you swear it’s like you're kissing him for the first time again. There’s something so enthralling and intoxicating about kissing Lando and you pray it’s something you never grow tired of. 

“Can you really blame me though, for wanting to stay locked away with my sexy, stunning, intelligent, caring, and breathtaking girlfriend?” Lando states as you two resume your prior positions on the couch, soaking in this serene evening together. 

“Wow, that's a lot of adjectives.” You reply as a slight giggle escapes from you. 

“I can name some more if you’d like.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Friday comes in the blink of an eye and before you know it you’re standing next to Lando as he knocks on the door to Max’s apartment. The solid white door swings open and there stands Max with a mischievous look on his face. 

“Thought you two had fucked off and decided to move to Italy.” 

“It’s still a possibility.” Lando states as he walks in behind you. 

“Don’t be bitter because you weren’t invited Fewtrell.” You chime in. 

The three of you settle in the living room and it reminds you of old times before Lando moved to Monaco. When you’d all be gathered at someone’s place and life seemed simpler. Things have changed drastically since then, but you know you’ll always have these two annoying guys in your life. 

“I’m not bitter. I’ve third wheeled enough in our friendship to know when I’m not wanted.” Max is chomping at the bit to know what went down on your trip and if nothing had he thinks his two best friends may have one collective brain cell that they share between them. “Soooo. How was Italy? Romantic?” 

Your eyes quickly dart over to Lando who’s seated in one of the chairs slightly to your left, while Max is sitting on the couch opposite of the one you’re residing on. Max was clearly digging for information and according to someone else in your friend group, Max had a large amount of money that he had bet on the two of you coming back from Italy and being together. So Lando and you had decided to make Max work for his prize– nothing like a little lying and mental warfare while spending time with friends right? You see that mischievous look in Lando’s eyes and then he open’s that pretty little mouth of his. 

“Did you know pizza was apparently invented in Naples?” 

Max furrows his eyebrows at Lando, surprised at the fact that was what came out of his mouth. “I didn’t.” 

“Yeah. Think we ate our body weight in pizza this past week. Gonna have to hit the training hard before the season starts back up.” Lando is acting too nonchalant about the trip and you can tell Max is listening for any little slip up. 

“Hmm is that so?” Max glances over in your direction and you know your next in line for his interrogation. “Y/N.” 

“Max.” 

“How was Italy?” 

“It was great. We ate lots of good food, went sightseeing, went to the beach, and relaxed. Everything you’d do on a trip to Italy.” 

Max still isn’t satisfied with anyone’s answer. To him there was just no way that something didn’t happen between you two on that trip and he was going to get the truth out even if it killed him. “Nothing exciting happened?” 

You shrug your shoulders as you glance over at Lando– wanting him to take the reins on this one. You can see the gears turning in his head all the while Max is getting antsier by the second waiting for someone to respond. 

“Well, Y/N did meet a guy.” 

There’s a shocked look on both Max’s face and yours at Lando’s words. Even with your little plan in place you didn’t think Lando was going to say that or honestly bring up that night ever again, but he did and he’s thrown Max for a loop at the same time. 

“You met a guy?” Max asks you. He isn’t sure if he heard Lando right and he’s really starting to wonder how this trip could have gone this horribly wrong. 

“Yeah. We went out to a bar one night and I started talking to this guy. He was really nice and happened to be from London. He’s my most recent follow on insta if you want to see what he’s like. His name is Harry.” You hadn’t bothered to unfollow him and at this moment you guess it was a good thing you hadn’t. 

Max thinks the world is ending right here in his apartment. How could his best friends be so fucking stupid? How could they go on a trip by themselves and not see how utterly in love they were with each other? 

He pulls up your instagram and finds the guy's account– sure he’s attractive, but there’s never going to be the connection there that Lando and you have. Anyone with two working eyes and a brain could see that and as Max locks his phone and tosses it on the couch cushion beside him he thinks he should make an appointment for both Lando and you to go see an optometrist and neurologist. 

“He seems like a nice lad.” Max had given up. If anything did happen you two were clearly dead set on not giving it up, so he’d try again another day. If Max knew one thing it was that consistency was key and being annoying about his best friends being in love was one thing he will always be consistent about. 

“Yeah I think he’d fit in really well with our friend group.” The look on Max’s face is nothing shy of disgust and out of the corner of your eye you can see Lando fighting back his laughter. You know if you fully look at Lando that you’ll break so you focus on Max who seems to be going through the five stages of grief.

“Right. Well Lando I’ve got a couple things I need to go over with you for Quadrant. Let me go get my laptop real quick.” Max has no issue with changing the subject at this point— the mere idea of that guy joining your friend group was completely out of the question. 

Once Max was out of earshot you immediately turned your attention to Lando. 

“Oh he’s absolutely fuming.” Lando states, his voice slightly higher from trying to suppress his laughter. You can feel the giggles rising from within you and it’s like in school when you aren’t supposed to be laughing, but everything is way more funny because of it. It’s not even that funny of a situation, but Lando and you are nearly beside yourselves over it. 

Before you both completely lose it Max waltzes back into the living room with his laptop in hand. The two of them go over clothing ideas and mockups for sometime while you calm yourself and scroll through your phone. 

“Ok one last thing- the redesign for the website. I’ll send the test link to your phone and see if there’s anything you want to look different on the mobile site.” 

Lando pats his pockets and realizes he forgot his phone in the car. “Shit. Hey baby can you please run to the car and grab my phone.” He’s tossing the car keys to you and you’re catching them before Max can get his brain and his mouth to work fast enough. 

“Sorry! What?!” 

You stand there confused, Lando’s keys jingling in your hands. 

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks. 

Max doesn’t know what to think at the moment. “You just called Y/N baby!“ 

In all honesty Lando didn’t even realize the term of endearment had slipped past his tongue and from the way you reacted it seems you didn’t either. But Lando and you share a knowing look and instead of panicking you decide to just run with the situation.

Lando scoffs, like Max had just suggested the most outrageous thing. “No I didn’t” 

“Yes you did!” Max’s eyes look like they are about ready to bulge out of his head as he speaks. 

“Max he literally didn’t. I think I would know if Lando called me baby.” 

“Stop gaslighting me!” Max knows what he heard, he’s not stupid or crazy like the two of you are making it seem. His eyes dart back and forth between Lando and you, trying to see if he can read your faces, but it’s useless. 

“Alright well I’ll be right back. Lando maybe try to calm Max down.” You state before swiftly leaving Max’s apartment before you break character. 

While you’re gone Max doubles down on his interrogation of Lando, but all Lando does is deny deny deny. His PR training coming in handy at this moment in time. It doesn’t take long for you to get back and when you hand Lando his phone and keys Lando can’t help but fan the fire some more by intentionally letting that little four letter word slide right off his tongue. 

“Thank you baby.” His hand lingers on yours for way longer than need be. The simple skim of his fingers across your skin sends a shiver up your spine. You don’t even get time to respond to Lando before Max’s big mouth is hollering once more. 

“I know I’m not going crazy. I heard that clear as day! Now would you two quit fucking with my head and tell me you finally opened your eyes.” 

There’s an unspoken agreement between Lando and you as you shift your gaze towards him, a shrug of the shoulders and both of you knowing that if you continued to screw with Max he’d probably start to make your lives hell. So, you take a seat on the arm of the chair that Lando is still residing in and like a magnet he’s snaking his arm around your waist–pulling you closer to him. 

Max sits there eyeing the both of you, your current positions tell him nothing, as your closeness and touching was nothing out of the ordinary for you two, but it’s what comes out of Lando’s mouth seconds later that has Max’s eyes as wide as saucers. 

“Better call Ed and let him know he owes you some money.” 

He knows what that means and has clearly been waiting for it to happen, but actually knowing now has him somehow not believing that Lando is telling the truth. “Are you guys fucking with me again or is this for real?” 

“What you want me to physically tell you that Y/N and I are together? That we finally realized that we’ve been in love with each other for an unreasonably long time and made everyone close to us crazy for years?” 

Max sits there dumbfounded, for someone who had been wanting to finally hear this news he just can’t believe it had finally happened. “Well yeah I guess.” He watches his best friends as their hands intertwine and when they look at each other he can see the love radiating between them. 

It had always been there– the love, but there was something different between them now that they’ve become partners like the missing pieces of the puzzle had finally slotted into place. He’s happy that his best friends finally have each other in the way they were meant to and perhaps that he has a little more money in his pocket. “Alright well now can you actually tell me how Italy was?” 

“Well first of all. It wasn’t just you and our other friends that were annoying about us. I think everyone in Italy thought we were a couple before we even realized how we actually felt.” And so you tell Max all about Italy and how special it is to the two of you now. 

“See now why couldn’t you have just told me all of this in the beginning instead of fucking with me?” Max exclaims. 

“Well that’s no fun is it?” Lando rebuttals. “Think about how funny of a story that will be to tell at our wedding one day?” 

You feel your heart start to rabidly race and a heat spread throughout your body at Lando mentioning your wedding. You guys had only really been together for like a week and he’s already casually mentioning marrying you? You weren’t trying to freak out, but what the fuck? Your ears are ringing and it’s like your mind has left your body for a second, but the one thing that brings you back to Earth is the feeling of Lando’s hand squeezing yours. 

When you look down at him and he looks at you with those pretty eyes that seem to be an enigma of colors and that smile of his that could make you feel better even on the shittiest of days you just somehow know that he is the man you’re going to marry. You couldn’t imagine yourself marrying anyone but him. And yes it’s early, way too early to be thinking about marriage in this relationship, but if Lando asked you in a couple months to get married during the Las Vegas GP by some Elvis impersonator in a little church on the strip– you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

“Well as long as I’m your best man.” Max states. 

“Who else would it be?”  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The three hour drive from London to Lando’s childhood home the following day is spent trying to figure out how you should announce to his family that you two are together. You’d gone over every scenario, but they either seemed too awkward or just unnecessary. 

“We could just say ‘hey we are in love and in a relationship’ as soon as we walk into the door.” Lando suggests. 

“Do we even really have to tell them?” You counter, knowing you are both totally overthinking this situation. “I mean couldn’t we just let them find out through social media or something?” 

Lando scoffs at your suggestion and he doesn’t even have to speak for you to know that your idea wouldn’t work with his family, especially his Mother. Cisca would never let you both hear the end of her finding out about you two over social media, especially when she’s been not so shy about expressing how she felt about you two. 

The English countryside passes by in a blur as you stare out the car window, you’d given up on figuring out ideas and decided to enjoy the view and the feeling of Land’s hand in yours as you continued the journey. 

“If my family didn’t know that you were coming I could have just called and said I was bringing my girlfriend home for them to meet.” Lando states from the driver's side. Now it’s your turn to scoff, but Lando doesn’t seem to be backing off the idea. “Seriously, we could surprise them.” 

“Lando, that's not a good idea. You’re gonna be in deep shit with your Mom.” 

“I’ll just call and say that you aren’t coming and that there’s someone that I’ve been wanting them to meet for awhile.” He thinks there’s nothing wrong with his plan, but you know he’s gonna get his ass chewed out by his Mother. You love Lando dearly, but he’s also stubborn and sometimes you have to just let him learn his lesson. You can’t even tell him it'll be your funeral before you hear the phone ringing. Cisca picks up rather quickly and you decide to keep quiet in the passenger seat. 

“Hello darling. Are you guys almost here?” Her voice echoes through the luxurious car. 

“Yeah we’ve got a little under an hour left.” 

“I can’t wait to see you and Y/N. Can she hear me? Hello my love! I’ve got a little gift for you when you guys get here. I saw it when I was out shopping the other day and I just thought of you instantly.” 

You want to speak up, already feeling the guilt creep in over this and Lando hasn’t even opened his big mouth to speak yet. You look over at him with pleading eyes, trying to convey just how much he shouldn’t do this, but he’s waving you off and you know this is when Lando has signed his death certificate. 

“About that. So Y/N isn’t coming to dinner. There’s actually someone else that I’ve been wanting you to meet.” 

There’s silence on the other end for some time and anyone would think Cisca had hung up or the line had disconnected, but the call time on the screen keeps going. “Mum are you still there?” Lando finally breaks the deafening silence. 

“Am I on speakerphone?” She replies and you know Lando is about ready to get yelled at. If there was one thing you knew about Lando’s Mother, it was that she didn’t play around when it came to you, especially if it involved Lando. 

“No.” Lando says confidently like her voice wasn’t echoing throughout the car. 

“I know I raised you better than this Lando. Y/N and I have been talking and she literally planned for all of us to have dinner. For you to uninvite her and then decide to bring some random girl in her place is absolutely horrible Lando. She said you guys had a wonderful time on your trip and that you had been staying at her place this week so I don’t know what is going on, but this better be a joke. If it’s not you’d better pray that you don’t lose the one person who cares so deeply about you. I’m so disappointed in you son, but we will talk more when you get here. Oh and hopefully the girl you decided to bring likes my roast dinner. I know it’s Y/N’s favorite meal I make so I was going to surprise her with it. Anyways I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

There’s no goodbye’s exchanged or time for Lando to reply, just Cisca hanging up on her son and then music that was playing before the call filling the air once again. You so badly want to tell Lando that you told him so, but from the blank look on his face and the thousand yard stare he’s got going on, you think perhaps that wouldn’t help the situation any. 

“I should have listened to you.” He finally says, the stupidity of his idea fully sinking in now that his Mother reprimanded him over the phone.   

You shrug your shoulders at him, fully knowing he should have, but not wanting to rub it in his face. “Hopefully once she sees me your wrongs will be forgiven.” 

“God, we can only hope.” 

By the time you pull into the driveway Lando’s already thought of ten different ways his Mother could kill him and when he’s getting out of the car and heading up to the front door he’s thought of eleven. Usually his family would be opening the door to greet them by the time they pulled into the driveway, today was a different story. The decadent smell of his Mom’s cooking hits both of you in the face as soon as you enter the house and you’re so glad you’re actually here and not back at home like you were supposedly meant to be.

“Mum! I’m home!” Lando hollers. 

“In the kitchen.” 

So you slowly traipse behind Lando towards the kitchen, letting him be the one to greet his Mom. He stops just past the doorway, his Mom standing at the counter peeling potatoes, while you’re slightly hidden behind him. “Smells amazing.” He figures starting out with a compliment wouldn’t hurt his situation any.

“Thank you.” 

You can’t exactly see Cisca, but you know just from the tone of her voice and the fact that she doesn’t have her son wrapped up in her arms right now tells you she’s still upset with him. The sound of the peeler against the potatoes is getting more rapid and aggressive– you’re thankful to not be a potato right now. You can slightly see her over Lando’s shoulder and she’s still got her back turned to you both still as she speaks once again. 

“Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?” 

Lando steps to the side, nudging you to step into his previous spot. You know Cisca will be thrilled when she sees you, but you’re still a little nervous after seeing the ever apparent cold shoulder that she’s giving Lando right now. You hear the peeling stop as you step into the kitchen and when Cisca turns around to see the supposed mystery girl, the peeler drops to the ground with a clang. 

“Y/N! Oh my darling!” A look of shock, excitement, happiness, and slight confusion washes over her face as she’s practically running towards you and wrapping you up in her arms. “What are you doing here? Lando said you weren’t coming?” She pulls back from the hug and just stares at you, like she’s trying to figure out if you’re actually here. 

“Surprise!” You say with a smile. 

She looks back and forth between you and Lando, who unbestowed to you has the biggest grin on his face. And then like a switch that was flipped her jaw drops and she grabs your shoulders like she’s afraid you’ll run away. “Wait a minute.” 

You feel Lando delicately place his hand on the small of your back as he moves right up against you. “Mum can you stop hogging my girlfriend please.” And you can hear the smile on Lando’s face as he speaks. 

The look on Cisca’s face you would have thought Lando had just won the driver’s championship. “Oh my god finally! My love I’m so happy you’re here. If it hadn’t been you that I saw when I turned around I think I would have had to knock some sense into my hard headed son.” She’s wrapping you up in another bone crushing hug and it’s one of the best feelings in the world to be embraced by someone who truly cares about you. 

“Well to be fair I think we both needed some sense knocked into us a long time ago.” You joke as Cisca finally frees you. 

“Yes, but this is how it was clearly meant to be. I’d always said you two were meant for each other and that one day eventually you’d open your eyes and hearts and realize that your other half had been with you all along.” 

You can see tears start to well up in her eyes.

“God I’m just so happy that you’re here. My heart broke when Lando had said you weren’t coming, but now it’s like it’s been mended. You’re the person for my Lando and I knew that from the first time I met you all those years ago Y/N. You’ve made him so incredibly happy and always been there for him during the extreme lows and highs, but as much as you're his person he’s just as much as yours. I’ve never seen him act like he does with someone like he does with you. I saw that love in his eyes that only a Mother can see the first time he brought you home. He may not have realized it, but I did.” 

Now you’re feeling the tears start to well up in your eyes and it’s only a matter of time before Cisca has got you in her embrace again. 

“Where’s the love for your own son?” Lando asks jokingly as he watches the two most important women in his life. 

“My own son wouldn’t have played with my emotions like you did earlier.” Cisca fires back, before heading back to her previous task.

Lando and you sit down at the small table in the kitchen while Cisca resumes peeling the potatoes. “I told him not to do it.” You say just to finally get in your I told you so.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite!” Cisca chimes in. 

Lando groans, but it’s all an act because there’s nothing that makes his insides turn to mush more than you being so loved and getting along so well with his family. “Maybe I actually shouldn’t have brought you.” 

You know he’s joking, but he earns a full name shout and a look from his Mom that only Mom’s can do. Which in turn emits a giggle from you and to Lando anything is worth getting to hear that melodic sound bless his ears, even getting scolded by his Mother. 

Dinner is spent filling in the rest of his family and both Lando and you somewhat get made fun of as his family points out all the times you two were so blind about how you felt about each other. Then to no one’s surprise Cisca begins to get emotional again as you’re talking to her about Italy. And not soon after Lando says the one thing again that makes your heart skip a beat and your body run hot. 

“Alright Mum save those tears for the wedding.” 

You laugh it off and allow for Cisca’s animated reaction to allow no one to focus on how flustered Lando’s words have you. It was one thing to talk with Max about it, if anything you were sure Max had mentioned (more like teased) you two about getting married many times before. But to just so openly mention it, even if he was just messing around, to his family had your head spinning and the butterflies in your stomach ready to burst out like some sick gory horror movie. 

You had always been close with the Norris family ever since Lando and you had become friends, but there was something about their not so shocked reaction (besides Cisca) that had you wondering if they had just always expected Lando and you to end up together. For you two to get married and grow old together. That the idea of it being anyone other than you had never crossed their minds. So that when Lando does casually mention it during dinner it’s like yeah of course you two would get married? Why wouldn’t you? It’s not until people begin getting up from the table that you come back to reality and out of your head. 

Once the mess from dinner is cleaned up you find yourself looking at all the photos across the house. Picture frames filled with childhood photos and family portraits scattered on shelves, tables, and walls. You’ve seen them all before, each one with a story that’s been told you were sure to anyone who visited the Norris household. Pictures of Lando as a child were your favorite to look at, especially when you see just how tiny he was as a kid. Cute little innocent Lando who had to be velcroed to his karting seat and went up against kids three times his size.

As you continue to look through the pictures your mind begins to think about the future and you can’t help but wonder if your kids would be small like him or when they inevitably started karting if they too would have to be velcroed to their seat. If there was one thing you knew for sure it was that you hoped they would have Lando’s pretty eyes and curly brown hair. God you hoped they wouldn’t inherit his big head. 

Then it’s like reality hits you in the face and you realize just how insane you’re being at the moment. You have to remind yourself once again that you two haven’t been together even a month yet, perhaps thinking about your future children is a little premature. But then you remember Lando mentioning you two getting married multiple times already, so you tell yourself your thoughts aren’t as bad as you made them out to be. 

Moments later a familiar pair of strong arms snake their way around your waist and some unruly curls tickle your neck as Lando rests his chin on your shoulder. He’d been admiring you from the doorway for some time before he finally couldn’t resist not clinging onto you somehow. You feel yourself start to melt into his embrace and before you know it you’re leaning back into him, his arms secured around your midsection as both of you now look at the various photos. “You know you were a pretty cute kid.” 

Lando hums in response, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your neck as he tries to stop himself from thinking about how much he’d love to have mini versions of you two running around. Not right now of course, but god some years from now he could imagine it clear as day. He hoped they would be little spitting images of you, that he’d hear your laughter in little kid form and know that when he came home from a bad race weekend that he’d have the most important people in his life waiting there for him. He’d always figured he’d eventually settle down and have a family, but now that you’re in his life there’s not a doubt in his mind.

While Lando was thinking the same thoughts you had minutes ago an unfamiliar picture on the wall catches your attention. “Is that one new?” You question, breaking Lando out of his thoughts. 

His eyes follow to where your finger is pointing and sure enough it is. In fact it’s a picture he didn’t even know existed. “Mum must have taken it and decided it was worthy of a place on the picture wall.” Lando mumbles. 

“It is a good picture though.” 

The picture in question? The two of you after the Belgium Grand Prix weeks ago. The race didn’t go the way Lando wanted it to at all. Yet, even with the disappointment from the race it was like when he saw you afterwards none of that shit mattered. He knew he was going to get to spend a week with you in Italy and at the end of the day he knew you’d always be there for him. 

To anyone else looking at the picture they would have thought you two were together, but at the point in time you two were still hard headed dumbasses. He remembers posing for the picture with you, but the angle this one is taken at he knows his Mother must have taken it from behind the scenes. She’d caught him looking at you with the biggest heart eyes mankind has ever seen and a smile that only radiates one thing– love. 

Night time was fast approaching and as everyone retired for the night you found yourself in Lando’s childhood bedroom. It still had its boyish charm with trophies and medals lining the walls next to posters of past racing legends. There wasn’t really anything that had changed since the last time you had stepped foot in his room, it was almost like a time capsule from the last moment in time that Lando still lived at home. 

As you take a seat on the twin bed you glance over at the one thing you loved to tease him about and when you see a bare wall where it should be you’re shocked. A freshly showered Lando walks into the room seconds after you’d spotted the missing piece of history. 

“You took down the Alex poster?!” You bombard him as soon as your eyes land on him. 

Lando furrows his eyebrows as he looks over to the spot where the infamous poster once resided. “Yeah.” He says, like it’s no big deal. 

“Why?!” 

Lando’s confused as to why you’re so distraught over him taking down the poster, but he entertains your inquiry. “Maybe because I didn’t want a poster of Alex Albon, who is my co-worker, staring me down while I fuck my girlfriend.” He teases as he saunters towards the way too small bed. 

You know what you’re planning on saying will get Lando riled up and so you say it with confidence. “Well thats what I was planning on looking at while you fucked me.” 

Lando hates how much of a tease you are and how easily you can press his buttons. He thinks he might need to teach you a lesson and in a flash he’s hovering over you with your hands pinned above your head. “You really know what to say to get me going, don't you love?” 

“Yeah but you love it.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

two years later

The salty sea air fills your nostrils as you walk along the beach holding the hand of the man you love. It had been an amazing week in the country you both hold to your hearts so dearly and tonight was the last night before you both had to go back to reality once more. Lando had suggested taking a walk after dinner and you were never one to pass up admiring the natural beauty that Italy has to offer. The lounge chairs and umbrellas were long gone from the beach and all that was left was the lulling waves and a picturesque sunset over the coastline. 

“I’m glad we were able to come back here.” You state as you lean your head on Lando’s shoulder. 

“Me too. It’s been too long.” 

And it truly had, the two of you hadn’t been back to Italy since the first time years ago. Since then the two of you had moved into a beautiful place in Monaco, Lando had two constructors championships and a driver’s championship under his belt, and you had been dominating your new job– quickly moving your way up the ladder. You were both thriving and it seemed like to you life couldn’t get any better than it was right now. 

Lando on the other hand somewhat felt the same. He’d accomplished so many things in the last couple years, but there was something that just didn’t feel complete in his life. And that something was burning a hole in his pants pocket. He’d won both championships, traveled the world more times than he could count, he’s lived a thousand lives it seems, but none of them would ever feel complete until he made you his wife. 

He’d known very early on that he was going to marry you, but the timing never seemed right and it was something he didn’t want to mess up. In all honesty he’d had the ring for over a year and how you hadn’t found it while living together he didn’t know, but the fact that you hadn’t was a sign to him that this is how it was meant to happen. 

You two had been talking about wanting to go back to Italy since what seemed like the day you got back the first time, but it seemed like something was always popping up or you had plans to go to someplace else. So when your schedules lined up and nothing else had been planned Lando knew this was when it was going to happen. 

He’d talked it over with Max trying to create some elaborate plan, but in the end they both agreed that something lowkey and more sentimental would be the best option. So now here he is minutes away from asking the love of his life to be his forever and she has no idea. He seems to be slyly checking his pocket every chance he can get to make sure the ring is still there and each time he feels it he thinks his dinner is about ready to come back up. 

When you ask him to take some pictures of you with the sunset he knows this is the moment. He actually does take a couple pictures of you just as like a moments before kind of thing, but when you turn your back to him he tosses the phone in the sand and grabs that little black box from his pocket. His heart feels like it’s about ready to beat out of his chest and he thinks he’s experiencing more adrenaline now than he ever has while racing. He gets down on one knee and his hands are trembling so bad he can barely open the box to display the ring. This is what he’s been planning for what seems like years, yet in the moment he’s so fucking nervous he can’t even think straight. 

“Oh my god!” 

He hadn’t even looked up at you yet before you had turned around and saw the scene in front of you. Your voice snaps him out of his anxiety induced trance and when he sees the woman he loves standing in front of him on the verge of tears he knows this is meant to be. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’ve known I wanted to marry you since practically the first week of our relationship, but I’ve loved you knowingly and unknowingly for what seems like a lifetime. You’re my sun, my moon, and my stars. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t acknowledge just how insanely lucky I am to have you in my life and for you to be mine. You love me when I’m happy, when I’m sad, and even when I’m a little bit of an ass.” 

He pauses trying to calm himself. 

“God, you’ve supported me through my worst times in racing and during my absolute best times. You’re my best friend, my soulmate, my lover, you’re everything I’d ever need in life wrapped up into one extraordinary woman. I’ve done so many things in life and accomplished so many things, but my life isn’t complete until I make you my wife. I’ve never loved someone like you and I never plan on loving anyone but you. You’re it for me, you’re the person I want to grow old and grey with. So Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?” 

There’s tears streaming down your face and Lando manages to let some of his own fall as he professes his love to you in the most vulnerable way possible. You feel like you’re not even in your body at the moment, but you drop to your knees and grab Lando’s face in your hands, pulling him into the most passionate and loving kiss you two had ever shared. To hear the man you love with every fiber of your being talk about you like that is a moment you’ll never forget. When you pull away you look down at the breathtaking ring that’s residing in the box being held by a still shaky Lando. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You say breathlessly. 

“Yes?” Lando can’t believe the words he’s hearing. 

A huge smile stretches across your face, of course Lando doesn’t believe you. “Yes!” 

In an instant the ring is out of the box and being slid onto your ring finger. It’s even more gorgeous on and as you stare at your hand you really can’t believe you’re engaged. Lando’s pulling you into another breathtaking kiss and you realize you’re kissing your fiance which makes you feel even more giddy. 

“I love you so much.” Lando says as he stares deeply into your eyes, his hand gently cupping your cheek. 

“I love you more.” You counter back. 

“Impossible.” 

As you two walk back to the villa you’re both still on cloud nine, but it doesn’t stop either of you from being your cheeky selves. “Y/N Norris does have a nice ring to it doesn’t it?” 

You give him a tight lipped smile. “This is awkward… I thought you’d be taking my last name.” 

Lando lets out a laugh, pulling you tighter into his side. “Honestly I’ll do whatever you want my love.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a year later 

The wedding was planned rather quickly, the both of you almost considering just getting eloped, but you knew you’d want the memories and stories to tell. So, you planned a wedding with just your families and close friends to attend. 

The ceremony itself was beautiful and you couldn’t have asked for it to be any more romantic or sentimental. Tears were shed by both Lando and you and the crowd during your vows. The way Lando talked about you and expressed just how much he loved you let you know you had made the right choice in marrying him. 

The reception on the other hand was what seemed to be the party of the century. You had ditched your long elegant wedding gown for a much shorter white dress. While Lando ditched his suit jacket and had opted to roll up his sleeves and unbutton the top buttons on his shirt which had you feeling feral. You’re husband was looking hot as fuck and you couldn’t wait to have some alone time with him. 

As the two of you sat at the wedding party table you heard the clinking of silverware on a champagne flute. To your right stood Max Fewtrell with his glass held high and everyone’s eyes on him. “Excuse me everyone, but as the best man I’m required to give a speech, so here goes nothing.” He shoots a wink towards Lando and you and you’re scared for what’s about to come out his mouth. “Well let me just start off by saying, I think we all figured this day would eventually come, but for a while we didn’t think it ever would. I mean I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people be more in love with each other for years and not realize it and deny it!” 

The crowd laughs and you feel your cheeks turn pink at the teasing, choosing to hide your face in Lando’s neck for a moment while Max continues. 

“There was a time where we all went on a group trip to Greece and mind you there was a group of us and Lando and Y/N acted like no one else existed. They’d go off and do their own thing, leaving everyone else behind, and this was probably a good year before they finally opened their eyes. Then when they went to Italy together by themselves and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, when it was all Lando could literally talk about the week leading up to it. Luckily they came back and realized how in love they were with each other, because I know I can speak for myself and everyone in this room when I say we all would have had to knock some sense into you if you hadn’t.” 

More laughter fills the air and both Lando and you have a little red tint to your cheeks, which you both blame on the alcohol. 

“Anyways, I’m so happy that my two best friends have each other in the way they were intended to. You two are my favorite example of love and I hope I can make another speech at your fiftieth wedding anniversary.” Max raises his glass in a toast. “Here’s to the happy couple. May your love last a million lifetimes.” 

The crowd erupts into applause and hoots and hollers as Max sits back down in his chair. Lando presses a quick kiss to your temple before quickly getting up from his chair, repeating the actions of Max’s glass clinking. You look up at him confused, but he just shoots you a smile before speaking. 

“First of all thank you all for coming to celebrate me marrying a woman who’s way out of my league. Secondly, thank you Max for that lovely speech.”

Laughter and cheers fill the air once again and then there’s some commotion in the background somewhere. Then you see two guys wheeling a projector screen to the middle of the room where everyone can see it. 

“Um, I’ve got a little something for my amazing wife that I’ve been working on for years and actually I had been working on it unknowingly for years before that. Anyways, let me stop rambling and show you.” Lando sits back down in his chair next to you as the lights dim and before you can ask him what’s going on his pretty little face pops up on the screen. 

“Hi baby! Over the years of us being together I’ve been capturing pictures and videos of you. Which is nothing new, we are always taking pictures and stuff, but these ones are special. These are pictures and videos that you’ve never seen. Instead of me explaining just let me show you. I love you so much and I want everyone to see the extraordinary woman I’ve married. I want everyone to see you how I see you.”

The screen fades to black and then pictures of you begin to pop up, ones that you didn’t even know existed. You’re so used to Lando having his camera out that you never thought to think of the ones he didn’t show you. Pictures of you in your pajamas making breakfast to you in your work attire to you all glammed up for a gala. Videos of you singing in the car, laughing, and just existing. Birthdays, trips, everything you could imagine someone could capture. Then you realize some of these pictures and videos are from before you two even got together from when you were still friends. 

It makes your heart swell to know Lando’s been capturing you in such a loving way since basically the beginning of you two knowing each other. You don’t even realize your crying until you feel Lando gently wiping away your tears. If someone would have told you years ago before you two went to Italy that you’d be here today married to Lando and crying over the most beautiful thing he’s ever given you, you would have laughed in their face. You look into your husband’s eyes and you know that there’s not another human being on this planet that could love you like he loves you. There’s a permanent place for him in your heart now and deep down you think there always has been. He’s your person and you're his and sure it may have taken you guys awhile to get here, but everything happens for a reason and you know you two were meant to be here at this moment right now. 

“You’re mine forever you know that right? I love you so much it hurts.” You tell him as the video ends and the guests also wipe their tears. 

Lando grabs your hands in his, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “Forever and always, baby.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

five years later 

A little girl with a mop of brown curls and laughter that resembles her Mother plays in the sand with her Father by her side. “Daddy!” She screeches looking up at him with eyes that mirror his– pretty blue like the water. The waves keep inching closer and closer to the sandcastle they’re building and the little girl is worried their hard work will be washed away any minute now. “I know my love. We should have listened to Mommy and built it further up.” 

“Mommy know’s everything.” She states matter of factly. 

The man lets out a laugh. “That she does.” 

A baby lays on his Mother’s chest as they both lounge under an umbrella. The woman watches her husband and daughter lovingly as they play in the sand. She catches her husband's eye and he flashes her a smile that even after all these years makes butterflies erupt in her stomach. 

Later after a day spent at the beach they’re both carrying a sleeping child back to the villa, their world in their arms. Finally when both kids are sound asleep in their beds the adults find themselves sitting outback with an all too familiar scenery around them. The man leaves for a brief second and while he’s gone the woman watches her babies through the baby monitor, her heart swelling over the fact that she made them with the love of her life. 

When he returns he has something hidden behind his back and with a raised eyebrow from his wife he reveals an old favorite of theirs. 

“The trip wouldn’t be complete without this now would it?” He says as he sits down next to her. 

“God we haven’t had this in forever.” She says as she takes the glass of pink moscato from him. 

“Just a man after your heart.” 

On track, speed was his language. It was his second nature, woven into the way he moved, the way he thought, the way he thrived. His entire career revolved around milliseconds—finding the smallest gaps, calculating the briefest windows of opportunity, and closing them before anyone else could. 

It was who he was, who he had always been.

But in real life? He was always a little late. Just like this morning.

The early sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, spilling golden light across the rumpled sheets, catching in the curves of your body as you stretched, slow and drowsy. The warmth of sleep still clung to your skin, the air thick with that quiet, intimate stillness that only existed in the early hours—before alarms, before rushing, before the rest of the world woke up. The kind of morning where time didn’t feel real.

But Lando was moving as if time was slipping through his fingers.

You watched him, half-awake, tangled in the blankets as he darted around the bedroom in his usual frantic way. His hair was damp from his shower, dark curls curling messily over his forehead, dripping onto the collar of his McLaren polo as he yanked it over his head. The fabric clung for a moment before settling into place, and he barely paused before grabbing his phone from the nightstand. His fingers flew over the screen, texting, checking the time, likely responding to a flood of messages from his team.

There was something endlessly amusing about him in moments like these—half-dressed, rushed, yet still managing to look effortlessly good even as he tripped over a pair of sneakers he’d abandoned on the floor the night before. 

Lando cursed under his breath, righting himself, then grabbed the wrong jacket from the chair, realized it, and tossed it aside with a sigh that was both dramatic and resigned.

“You said you’d wake up early, Lan.” Your voice was still thick with sleep, barely more than a murmur, but it was enough to make him glance over at you.

“I did wake up early,” He countered, flashing you a sheepish grin as he ran a hand through his curls, making them even messier. “I just… may have hit snooze a few times.”

You smirked, turning onto your side, resting your cheek against the pillow as you watched him. “Only a few?”

“Okay, five.” He shot you a guilty look before his gaze dragged over you, tangled in the sheets, soft and warm and still clinging to the last remnants of sleep. His smile widened, a little more lopsided now. “But to be fair, you could’ve helped, you know? Woken me up with… kisses or something.”

His giggle was boyish, teasing, and you rolled your eyes, groaning as you buried your face in the pillow. “Not my fault you sleep like a damn log.”

With a dramatic sigh, Lando flopped onto the bed beside you, making the mattress dip under his weight. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with that playful, mischievous glint in his eyes before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

It was meant to be short—a fleeting goodbye, a simple gesture before he rushed out the door—but the moment he felt you respond, he lingered.

Your fingers found his curls, still damp from showering, twisting through them as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. His scent wrapped around you—fresh shampoo, the taste of his mint toothpaste, and the faintest trace of his cologne, something clean and familiar. The kind of scent that made you want to bury yourself in his hoodie and never take it off.

The kiss stretched, slow and lazy, melting into the morning like sunlight spilling through the window. His breath was warm against your lips, and when he finally broke away, he didn’t go far. He stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet yours.

“You’re trying to make me late, love.” He accused softly, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Maybe.” You whispered, the ghost of a smile playing on your lips.

He sighed, his reluctance evident, but eventually, he pulled away. He sat up, raking a hand through his curls one last time. “I’ll be back by eight,” He promised as he stood, grabbing his keys from the nightstand, “No work, no racing talk. Just us. I swear.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him amused. “Swearing on Valentine’s Day? That’s bold, Norris.”

He pointed his finger at you, backing toward the door, his teasing, boyish smile never fading away. “You literally have zero faith in me.”

“Indeed.” You chuckled, stretching lazily beneath the covers.

Lando exhaled, shaking his head, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you—something quieter, something unspoken. He hesitated for half a second, lingering in the doorway, as if debating whether to drop everything and crawl back into bed, but then he sighed, resigned.

“I will be home on time,” He insisted, more serious now. “I’ll make it up to you, darling. I promise.”

You hummed knowingly, watching him disappear through the door, leaving behind the lingering warmth of his presence, the scent of his cologne still clinging to the air.

────୨ৎ────

You gave it two hours before accepting the inevitable.

Lando was, indeed, going to be late.

You weren’t surprised. Disappointed, maybe, but only in the way that came with knowing someone too well—not truly upset, just resigned to the fact that his job always found a way to keep him longer than expected. You had seen the way he hesitated before leaving, how he lingered in the doorway just a second too long, promising—swearing—that he would be home on time. But it wasn’t his fault. And, if anything, it only gave you more time to work on your plans for the evening.

Valentine’s Day had never been something extravagant for you. You didn’t care for the clichés—the overpriced dinners, the grand gestures, the roses that would wilt in a few days. It all felt too polished, too expected, and you’d never been the type to want something predictable.

But making something personal? Something that felt like the two of you? That was different. Something you enjoyed much more.

So, after a slow breakfast, you pulled on one of Lando’s oversized hoodies—the navy one that smelled like him, like warmth and the faintest trace of cologne—and set out into the streets of Monaco. 

The city was alive in the way it always was—sleek cars rolling by, the hum of conversation floating from open cafés, the sea breeze curling around the narrow streets. The sun hung low over the water, casting a golden shimmer across the yachts bobbing in the harbor. 

You took your time, stopping by the little boutique shops you knew he liked, the ones tucked between high-end storefronts, often overlooked by tourists. But you weren’t in a rush. You took your time, picking up small things that weren’t grand but were significant.

You grabbed Lando’s favorite pastries from the café by the harbor—the one where you two had spent countless mornings, splitting croissants and sipping coffee, watching the boats drift lazily across the water. The barista recognized you immediately, smiling as she packed the order, slipping in an extra chocolate pastry with a knowing glance.

Next was the little boutique tucked between designer storefronts, the one Lando always insisted had the best vintage finds despite being surrounded by high-end brands. You browsed aimlessly, running your fingers over old postcards, worn-in leather-bound notebooks, things that felt nostalgic even though they weren’t yours.

You had also decided to make a scrapbook for him with all the photos that depicted both of you.

But the real surprise? Oh, you were sure he’d enjoy it much more.

By noon, you were sprawled across the living room floor, surrounded by an absolute mess—scraps of paper, markers uncapped and rolling across the floor, glue sticks that refused to work properly. The scrapbook was imperfect, and you loved it for that.

Each page told a different part of your story with Lando. A photo of the first time he took you karting (where you definitely didn’t let him win), a blurry selfie from a trip where you got lost on purpose, a polaroid of him sleeping on a flight, mouth slightly open, hair a mess. And most importantly—your favourite photo, taken secretly by Max during your first encounter. You were both young and happy, smiling at each other while talking about everything and nothing.

Small notes were scribbled in the margins—inside jokes, sarcastic remarks, quiet little confessions that you never said out loud but felt safe writing.

You were in the middle of pressing down a picture of Lando mid-bite—one where he looked utterly ridiculous—when your phone buzzed beside you.

Lando: 

I might be a little late.

You smirked. 

You: 

Shocking.

Lando: 

Don’t even start. 

I’m trying to leave, but Zak is making me do media stuff.

You could hear the frustration in his words, imagine the way he would run a hand through his curls, sighing dramatically, probably already bouncing his leg under the table from the stress.

Lando: 

I just want to be home :(

With you.

Your heart softened, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you typed back.

You:

I’m not going anywhere, Lan. 

Just come home when you can.

There was a subtle pause before another reply came from your boyfriend.

Lando: 

I love you. 

I swear I’ll make it up to you.

You shook your head, smiling at the screen. He always did.

────୨ৎ────

Lando was losing his mind.

Everything that could possibly delay him, did have to happen.

The sim session had gone longer than expected. Then there was a meeting, then an extended debrief with Zak, then another interview that he had to sit through when all he wanted was to be home.

Every wasted second only added to the frustration in his chest, twisting tighter and tighter until it was almost suffocating. The promise he had made that morning felt like a cruel joke now, slipping further away no matter how fast he tried to chase it.

By the time he finally parked outside the apartment, it was 10:16 PM.

His fingers drummed impatiently against the steering wheel, jaw clenched. He hated being late, hated breaking promises, but most of all—he hated the thought of you waiting for him, alone.

The moment he stepped inside, the apartment was quiet, save for the soft glow of the TV flickering across the room. The scent of something home-cooked still lingered in the air, warming the space, even though dinner had long since passed.

Then he saw you.

Curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, wrapped in the hoodie he had left behind this morning. The fabric was oversized on you, swallowing you up in a way that made something primal tug at his chest. Your hair was slightly messy, your fingers loosely wrapped around the stem of a wine glass.

You looked so damn perfect.

But he didn’t miss the way you glanced up at him, eyes unreadable, a quiet amusement playing at the corners of your lips. You weren’t upset. You weren’t fuming.

You were waiting.

And somehow, that made him feel even worse.

Lando let out a slow breath, shutting the door softly behind him. “Before you say anything— I know.”

The silence stretched between you, thick with anticipation. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling. His voice was softer this time. “I tried. I swear I tried. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the slight mess of his curls, the tension still lingering in his shoulders, the guilt practically radiating off of him.

Then, instead of calling him out for it, instead of making it worse, you simply nodded toward the kitchen.

“I saved you some pasta for you.” You uttered.

Lando blinked. “Wait. That’s it?” His voice held a note of disbelief. “No yelling? No ‘Lando, you’re such an idiot’ speech?”

You smirked, swirling the wine in your glass. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. You are an idiot, Lan.”

His lips twitched. “That’s all I’m getting?”

“I could have made you sleep on the couch,” You teased, tilting your head. “But…”

He stepped closer, his hands sliding into the front pockets of his jeans, watching you carefully. “But?”

You sighed dramatically, stretching out your legs. “I’d rather have you in my arms.”

Something inside him softened at that. He had spent the entire day rushing, the entire night chasing after time that refused to slow down for him. But here, with you, the urgency melted into something different. Something quieter.

He dropped his keys onto the counter and crossed the room in a few quick strides, reaching for you without hesitation. His fingers found your waist, pulling you against him, and the moment you melted into his arms, he let out a slow, relieved exhale.

And then he kissed you. Slow, deep, lingering—an apology, a plea, a silent promise all at once.

You tasted like wine, warm and sweet, and when your fingers tangled into his curls, tugging him closer, a quiet groan rumbled in his chest. He was desperate, needy in a way he hadn’t realized until now—until he felt you, soft and warm against him, until he remembered just how much he hated being away from you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath uneven.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” He murmured, fingers still gripping your waist. “I’ll make it up to you, love.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly, your lips barely brushing against his as you whispered, “I know you will.”

And then—just as he was about to kiss you again—you pulled away.

Slowly. But Deliberately.

His brows furrowed slightly as he watched you stand up, stretching your arms over your head. The movement made the hem of his hoodie ride up, exposing just a portion of your soft, bare skin.

Lando swallowed deeply as you took a step back, your eyes glinting with something playful, something wicked, before your hands went to the hem of his hoodie. And then—without breaking eye contact—you pulled it over your head and let it drop to the floor.

Lando’s breath hitched. Because fucking hell. You looked gorgeous.

You stood there, in nothing but a delicate lace set—black with orange decorations, intricate, hugging every inch of your body in a way that made his mouth run dry. The kind of set that wasn’t just lingerie, but something meant to be seen. Admired. Touched.

And god, he wanted to touch.

His jaw went slack for half a second before he caught himself, blinking rapidly. “Are you—” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Did you—”

You smirked. “Planned ahead.”

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face, his body already burning. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch you, to undo the straps, to press his lips against every inch of newly exposed skin.

“I—” He licked his lips, eyes dark, voice lower now. “Fucking hell, you’re killing me, love.”

You bit your lip, tilting your head slightly. 

“Maybe,” You murmured. “But hey, it is Valentine’s Day.”

Lando groaned, already reaching for you, already desperate to close the space between you. “I swear to god, if I had known this was waiting for me, I would’ve left work hours ago.”

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you flush against him, his hands finally finding their way to the bare skin of your hips. His grip was firm, desperate, his fingers pressing into you like he was trying to make up for every second he had missed.

His lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm, heavy.

“You’re gonna have to make up for it now, then,” you whispered, your nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck.

His answering grin was slow, teasing, but his eyes? His eyes were hungry.

“Oh, don’t worry, love,” He murmured, voice rough with want as he backed you toward the bedroom. “I’ll do it gladly.”

────୨ৎ────

As the two of you lay in your bed, tangled in the sheets, still naked, but hot and tired, the world outside seemed to fade into nothingness. The soft hum of the city, the faint sounds of night birds, everything seemed distant as Lando gently pulled you into his arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you. 

His heartbeat was steady against your ear, his breath still a little uneven, but it felt like you were the only two people who existed in that moment.

You shuffled in the bed, turning around, and your eyes immediately caught his. The light from the bedside lamp casted a soft glow on his face. His usual confidence had softened in the quiet of the room, replaced by the kind of vulnerability that made him look even more endearing. You smiled, still amused by his frantic apology earlier, and decided to play along a little longer.

“Well, you better be careful next time, Norris,” You said softly, your lips curling into a teasing grin. You looked up at him, eyes gleaming with that playful glint you both loved. “Next time, when you’re even 0.04 seconds late, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Lando raised his eyebrow, clearly intrigued but amused. His lips parted as he tried to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “0.04 seconds, huh?”

You nodded, still keeping your gaze locked with his, the air thick with a lighthearted tension. “Yeah. You might think you’ve got time to spare, but not with me. I’m very serious about punctuality, Lando. Every second counts.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and his thumb gently brushed against your cheek. “So, if I’m even a fraction late again, I’m in trouble?” His voice was low, playful but with an edge of curiosity, as if he was testing the waters to see how far you were willing to take this.

You leaned in, lips just brushing his ear, your voice dropping to a whisper that only he could hear. “That’s right. A fraction could cost you a lot. Next time, you might find yourself on the couch instead of in my bed.”

Lando’s whole body stiffened for a second as he let out an exaggerated gasp. “The couch? Seriously?” He pulled back just enough to look at you, clearly feigning shock. “That’s cold, even for you.”

You smiled sweetly, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I have to keep you on your toes, you know. No one gets special treatment around here.” You softened your tone just a touch. “But I’ll let you off the hook this time. You did make it back eventually.”

Lando leaned in close, his breath warm against your lips. He was laughing, but his eyes were full of affection. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying to get back to you.” He said softly, his voice almost a whisper now, just for the two of you. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb grazing over your lips. “You’re the reason I wanted to be on time. You’re the reason I couldn’t wait to get home.”

Your heart fluttered, and you closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the sincerity in his words. You could feel your own heartbeat picking up as you leaned into his touch, your breath catching in your throat. The playful banter had melted into something deeper, something more real.

Still, you weren’t done teasing him just yet. You smirked, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose. “I’ll let it slide this time. But next time, I’ll be watching the clock very closely.”

Lando’s lips parted in mock offense as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was at once slow and deep, as if he was trying to convey everything he was feeling in that moment. The kiss deepened, his hands moving to your bafs back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The heat of his body, the steadiness of his touch, all of it surrounded you, wrapped you in a sense of security and comfort.

When the kiss finally broke, you both lay there for a few seconds, breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Lando’s hands slid down your back, fingertips lightly tracing the curve of your hip. His voice was soft, almost teasing but still full of that warmth that made your chest ache. 

“You know,” He started, his eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, “I think I’ll make sure I’m never late again. I don’t want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity hidden beneath his teasing words. “You’d better,” You murmured, “Because no matter how much you race in your  life, Lando Norris, this is your finish line.” You smiled, your voice soft and warm now. “And I’m always going to be here, waiting for you.”

Lando leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against yours with a slow, lingering kiss that spoke volumes. The banter, the teasing—it all faded into the background as he held you close, as if time didn’t matter anymore. In that moment, it was just the two of you, and nothing else mattered.

When the kiss broke, he looked at you with a soft smile, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.” He murmured.

You chuckled softly, rubbing his back. “Maybe not. But I’ll keep you around anyway.”

Lando chuckled at your words, eyes bright with affection. “I’m not kidding. You’re my everything.”

You nodded, a warm, contented smile spreading across your face as you cuddled into him. “And you’re mine. But just remember, next time… 0.04 seconds, Norris. 0.04 seconds.”

Lando laughed, kissing your forehead before whispering, “Understood, love. No more delays. I’ll always make it back to you.”

And with that, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you—wrapped up in the quiet intimacy of a promise made, and the comfort of each other’s arms.

“But you know I have other gifts for you, right?” You chuckled as you lay tangled in your bed, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Shhh.. let me enjoy this gift for now.”

And next time, you both knew, no matter the time, you’d always find your way back to each other.

© haniette | 2025, all rights reserved.

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “Not even a little,” she lied, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Lando chuckled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He dropped his suitcase and crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling her into his arms before she could protest. His lips were on hers in an instant, hot and demanding, and all thoughts of resistance melted away.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their tongues tangled in a desperate dance. It had been too long since she felt his touch, too long since his hands roamed her body with such possessive urgency. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he stared down at her with dark, hungry eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Every night, I’d lie in bed, imagining what I’d do to you the second I saw you again.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her thighs at his words. “What stopped you from calling?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, tracing a finger along her jawline. “I wanted to make you wait. I wanted you to miss me as much as I missed you.”

She rolled her eyes, but the way her body pressed against his betrayed her true feelings. “You’re such a tease.”

“And you love it,” he countered, his lips brushing against her ear.

He was right, and she hated how easily he could see through her. She didn’t say anything, instead capturing his lips in another searing kiss. Her hands roamed his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. She couldn’t wait to have him inside her, to feel that familiar stretch as he filled her completely.

Lando’s hands moved to the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head in one swift motion. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin as his fingers deftly unhooked her bra. She gasped as his mouth closed over one of her nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud.

“Lando…” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He pulled away, his eyes locking with hers as he undid the button on her jeans. “I’ve been dreaming about this,” he admitted, his voice rough with desire. “About how you’d feel around me, how you’d moan my name.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as he stripped her of her jeans and panties, leaving her completely bare before him. His gaze roamed over her body, and she felt a shiver run down her spine at the intensity in his eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his hands moving to the waistband of his own jeans.

She watched as he kicked off his shoes and removed the rest of his clothes, her eyes widening at the sight of his arousal. He was already hard, his length straining against his stomach. She licked her lips, the heat between her thighs growing almost unbearable.

Lando stepped closer, his hands gripping her hips as he pressed her back against the wall. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. “I need you,” he murmured, his voice thick with need.

“Then take me,” she breathed, her heart racing in anticipation.

He didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. He paused, his eyes locking with hers. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desire. “Please, Lando.”

He thrust into her with a force that made her gasp, the air rushing out of her lungs as if he’d punched it from her chest. Her back arched instinctively, her body seeking more of him, more of the heat and pressure that only he could give. His length stretched her in ways that bordered on overwhelming, every inch of him filling her completely, pushing against walls that had been empty for far too long. She felt him everywhere—her core, her thighs, the way her pulse throbbed in time with his movements.

Her nails raked down his shoulders, leaving faint red trails in their wake, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he groaned, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through her as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation was electric, a jolt that shot straight to her spine, making her toes curl and her breath hitch. Her body clenched around him, desperate to keep him there, to feel every ridge and vein of him as he moved.

“Fuck,” she choked out, her voice breaking on the word. It wasn’t just relief—it was hunger, a deep, aching need that had been building for weeks. Every thrust sent sparks skittering across her skin, lighting up parts of her she hadn’t realized were dormant. Her hips rocked against his, meeting him stroke for stroke, each one deeper, harder, more consuming than the last.

His hands gripped her hips tighter, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her closer, impossibly closer. “You feel so good,” he growled, his voice rough, almost feral. “So fucking tight.”

She couldn’t respond, couldn’t think beyond the way he filled her, the way his body moved against hers with a rhythm that was both familiar and new. Her moans spilled out unchecked, raw and unfiltered, each one a testament to how much she’d missed this, missed him. Her legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place as if she could fuse them together, making this moment last forever.

The room was alive with the sounds of their bodies colliding, the slick slide of skin on skin, the ragged breaths that mingled in the space between them. Every movement was deliberate, calculated to drive her higher, to push her closer to the edge. 

“God, I missed this,” he growled, his voice rough, the words brushing against her ear like a promise.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Her hips rocked against him instinctively, searching for that familiar rhythm, that perfect friction. The weight of him, the heat of him, the way he filled her so completely—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Her thighs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, low and guttural.

“You feel... fuck, you feel incredible,” he panted, his breath hot against her neck. His hands slipped under her thighs, shifting her slightly, adjusting the angle, and the tip of him brushed against something that made her eyes roll back.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice breaking as sensation surged through her like a storm. “Please, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His hips moved with a rhythm that was both punishing and tender, each thrust driving her higher, closer to that edge she was desperate to fall over. The sweat-slicked heat of their bodies pressed together, the slap of skin against skin, the way he groaned her name—it was too much, and not nearly enough.

She clutched at him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her legs wrapped so tightly around him she might’ve left bruises. But he didn’t care. If anything, the way she clung to him only spurred him on, his pace growing more frantic, his grip firmer.

“You’re mine,” he muttered, his lips finding hers in a messy, desperate kiss. “All mine.”

Y/N’s head fell back against the wall, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into her with relentless force. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, and she couldn’t help the moans that escaped her lips.

“I missed this,” she gasped, her legs tightening around him. “I missed you.”

Lando’s lips crashed against hers, his kiss hot and possessive. “I missed you too,” he murmured against her lips. “So fucking much.”

Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. Y/N’s pussy clenched around Lando’s cock, her walls stretching to accommodate his thickness, pulsing with every inch he pushed into her. She gasped as he filled her completely, the familiar stretch igniting a fire in her core she had missed for far too long. He groaned, the sensation of her tight wet heat enveloping him making his knees weak. “You feel fucking incredible,” he rasped, his voice strained as he watched her body take him completely.

She could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as he moved inside her, the sensation overwhelming. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, desperate for more. “I missed this so fucking much,” she moaned, her voice trembling. “I missed you filling me, stretching me out, making me feel so full.”

Lando’s hands roamed her body, gripping her hips firmly as he thrust into her harder, faster, eager to hear more of her desperate cries. His hands found her breasts, cupping them tightly, thumbs brushing over her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers until she arched into his touch. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he growled, his breath hot against her ear. “How much I’ve missed feeling you wrapped around me.”

Her gasps turned into cries, her nails raking down his back as their bodies moved frantically, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. “Lando, I need more,” she begged, her pussy clenching around him.

“Tell me how much you’ve missed me,” he demanded, his hands sliding down to her hips, lifting her higher as thrusts came even faster, deeper.

“Every damn night, every day,” she cried. Her mind was unraveling.

Lando reeled further. “What about it? Tell me everything.”

“I’d touch myself thinking about you,” she confessed, making Lando grunt as he tortured her swollen ring with thumb and pinky tightening even further. “Thinking about how you feel inside me, how you stretch me, how you make me feel so fucking full.”

“Fuck, me too,” he admitted, and she arched an eyebrow, her cheeks flushed. “I’d jerk myself through these endless nights, imagining this, imagining how tight and warm you’d feel wrapped around me. Imagining how you moan when I press myself into you until there’s nothing more to give.”

Their breathing grew ragged, their movements rougher, messier, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, her moans, his grunts. “I’m close,” she gasped, her nails digging into his skin.

“So, what are you waiting for?” he teased, his voice ragged and breathless. His cock throbbed inside her, the thick vein along its length pressing against that perfect, sensitive spot deep within her. “Come for me.”

The words were a command, a challenge, and she felt her body respond instantly. Her walls clenched around him, her hips bucking as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. She could feel it—the edge of release, so close, so tantalizingly close.

“Lando,” she gasped, her nails digging into his back. “I’m... I’m going to—”

“Do it,” he growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Let go. I want to feel you come undone.”

Her body tensed, every muscle coiled tight as Lando’s thrusts grew harder, faster, more desperate. The pressure inside her built to a breaking point, a white-hot heat that threatened to consume her entirely. She could feel it—the edge of something she’d never experienced before, something primal and uncontrollable.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. “I think… I think something’s happening.”

He didn’t slow down, his hips slamming into hers with a force that made her cry out. “Let it happen,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to see you fall apart.”

And then it hit her—a wave of pleasure so intense it stole her breath. Her pussy clenched around him, her walls pulsing in rapid, uncontrollable spasms. She felt it before she saw it, the sudden rush of warmth as her body betrayed her, gushing streams of liquid that soaked them both.

“Fuck!” Lando’s eyes widened in shock as her pussy pushed him out, his cock slipping free just as the first wave hit. He stared down at her, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “Did you just…?”

She couldn’t answer, her body still convulsing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her legs, once tightly wrapped around him, now hung limply, barely able to hold on. Her whole body felt like it was collapsing, but Lando’s arms were there, strong and steady, holding her against the wall.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, his voice filled with wonder. “You squirted.”

She blinked up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “I… I didn’t know I could do that.”

A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Neither did I. But fuck, that was hot.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through her at his words. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so completely seen. And in that moment, she knew there was no one else she’d rather share this with than him.

Lando tightens his hold on Y/N. 

“You’re not going anywhere, princess. Not until I make you scream my name again.” 

Y/N’s body shuddered at his words, her legs still trembling from the intensity of her first orgasm. The sensation of his skin against hers, the way he looked at her with pure hunger, made her heart race. She could feel the heat pooling between her thighs again, her body already responding to his every touch

Her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding as she clings to him, her wetness still lingering on her thighs. With a determined grip, he carefully lifts her off the wall, his strong arms cradling her as he carries her toward the bedroom. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips brushing against his jawline as she whispered, “You’re insatiable, Lando.” He chuckled, the low, throaty sound sending a shiver down her spine. “When it comes to you? Absolutely.”

He laid her gently on the bed, her back sinking into the soft mattress. Lando stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over her naked form with a predatory gleam. She felt exposed, vulnerable, yet completely safe in his presence. He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs as he leaned in closer. His breath was warm against her sensitive skin, his lips hovering just above her core.

“I’m going to make you cum again,” he murmured, his voice dripping with promise. “And again. And again. Until you forget your own name.” his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine. His hands glide up her thighs, his touch firm yet tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of her. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Y/N’s breath hitches as his fingers brush against her sensitive core, her body instinctively arching toward him. She’s still reeling from the intensity of their first encounter, the way he made her lose control completely. And now, he’s looking at her with that same determination, that same fire in his eyes.

“Lando…” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

“Shh,” he interrupts softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her inner thigh. His lips are warm, his breath hot against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Her stomach flutters at his words, her body already responding to his touch. He places a trail of kisses along her thigh, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. When he finally reaches her center, her breath catches in her throat, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

His tongue flicks against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her entire body. She gasps, her hips lifting off the bed as he begins to lick her with a slow, teasing rhythm. His hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he explores her with an expertise that makes her head spin.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against her, his voice muffled but filled with admiration. He licks her again, his tongue swirling around her clit in a way that makes her moan loudly, her fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

Her entire body is on fire, her pleasure building with every flick of his tongue. She feels herself getting closer, her thighs trembling around his head as he continues to lavish her with attention. Just as she’s about to tip over the edge, he adds two fingers inside her, curling them in that perfect spot that makes her cry out.

“Oh God,” she gasps, her back arching off the bed as she feels the familiar rush of pleasure surging through her. Her body tightens around his fingers, her orgasm crashing over her in waves as she squirts again, her release soaking his hand and the bed beneath her.

Lando doesn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible. Her moans grow louder, her body writhing beneath him as he pushes her to new heights of ecstasy. When he finally pulls away, her body collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

He looks up at her, his lips glistening, his eyes filled with desire. “That’s two,” he says, his voice smug but filled with admiration. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at his words, her body still tingling from the intensity of her orgasm. She’s never felt so alive, so consumed by pleasure. And yet, the look in his eyes tells her he’s just getting started.

Before she can respond, he climbs up her body, his lips capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue, the sensation sending a fresh wave of desire through her. Her hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer as she kisses him back with equal fervor.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking with hers. “I’m going to make you cum at least four times tonight,” he says, his voice filled with determination. “I want to break your record. I want to make you perfectly mine.”

Her breath catches at his words, her body already responding to the promise in his voice. She doesn’t know if she can handle more, but the look in his eyes tells her she doesn’t have a choice. And honestly, she doesn’t want one.

Lando kisses her again, his hands roaming her body as he positions himself between her legs. She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance, and instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low and filled with anticipation.

She nods, her eyes never leaving his. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling with desire.

He thrusts into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely. She gasps, her nails digging into his back as he begins to move, his pace slow and deliberate. His eyes never leave hers, the connection between them palpable as he takes control of her body once again.

Her pleasure builds with every thrust, her moans filling the room as he brings her closer to the edge once more. She doesn’t know how much more she can take, but she doesn’t care. All she knows is that she never wants this moment to end.

“Lando…” she gasps, her voice trembling as her pussy clenches around him, the sensitivity building with every thrust. Her body feels electric, overstimulated, yet still craving more. “I don’t know if I can… again.”

He doesn’t slow down, his hips driving into her with a restless rhythm that makes her toes curl. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider as he leans in, his breath hot against her ear. “You can. You will.” His voice is low, commanding, and it sends a shiver through her.

She whimpers, her nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks her harder, deeper, each stroke hitting that spot inside her that makes her vision blur. The pressure builds, unbearable and exquisite all at once. Her back arches off the bed, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

“That’s it,” he growls, his eyes locked on hers, dark with hunger. “Let go for me.”

Her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cums even harder than before. Her pussy tightens around him, pulsing wildly, and then—she squirts again. A gush of liquid spills out of her, soaking his cock and the sheets beneath them. The force pushes him out of her, his dick sliding free as she trembles through the aftershocks.

Lando stares down at her, mesmerized, his chest heaving as he watches her come undone. He brushes a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at you.”

She’s too spent to respond, her body limp and boneless as she tries to catch her breath. But the way he looks at her—like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—makes her heart swell. She reaches up, her fingers brushing his cheek, and he leans into her touch, his lips curving into a soft smile.

When she finally comes down from her high, she looks up at him, her eyes filled with awe. “Three,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

He smirks, his eyes filled with pride. “One more to go,” he says, his voice filled with determination. “I’m not stopping until I’ve broken your record.”

Her heart skips a beat at his words, her body already responding to the promise in his voice.

Lando’s hands glide down her body, his touch deliberate and teasing. She’s still trembling from the last orgasm, her skin hypersensitive, but he doesn’t give her a moment to recover. His fingers find her clit, rubbing slow circles that make her gasp, her hips jerking involuntarily. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. “Even after all that.”

She whimpers, her hands clutching at the sheets as he slips two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Her back arches off the bed, a moan escaping her lips. “Lando… I can’t—I don’t think I can again.” Her voice is shaky, breathless.

“Yes, you can,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her entire body. His eyes lock onto hers, dark and unyielding, filled with a hunger that makes her stomach clench. 

“You’re not done yet.” He leans down, his breath hot against her sensitive skin, and she feels the first flick of his tongue against her clit—light, teasing, deliberate. The sensation is electric, sending sharp jolts of pleasure radiating through her already overstimulated body. Her hips jerk involuntarily, a gasp escaping her lips as his fingers curl inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her see stars.

Her thighs tremble around him, her muscles tense and quivering as he works her with a relentless rhythm. His tongue swirls around her clit, alternating between soft licks and firm pressure, while his fingers thrust deeper, faster, hitting every nerve ending with precision. She can feel herself unraveling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core until it’s almost unbearable. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her hands clawing at the sheets for something to hold onto.

“I’m close,” she gasps, her voice breaking as the pressure builds to a crescendo. “So close…”

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, a gravelly vibration that makes her thighs tighten around him. His lips hover just above her pulsing clit, his breath hot and wet against her slick, swollen folds. She feels exposed, raw, every nerve in her body alight with anticipation. 

“Cum for me.” His tongue lashes against her clit—hard, fast, unrelenting—and his fingers curl inside her, pressing firmly against that spot that makes her vision blur. Her nails claw at the sheets, her hips bucking uncontrollably as she feels it building, that relentless pressure coiling tighter and tighter in her core.

Her pussy quivers around his fingers, clenching and releasing in erratic waves, so sensitive now that every stroke of his tongue feels like an electric shock. She can feel herself drenched, her arousal pooling beneath her, the sound of his fingers moving in and out of her loud and shameless. Her moans are desperate, guttural, her toes curling into the mattress as she wavers on the edge.

And then—she breaks. Her orgasm crashes over her with a force that steals her breath, her back arching off the bed as she cums harder than she’s ever thought possible. Her pussy spasms wildly around him, her release gushing out in a flood that soaks his hand, his wrist, the sheets beneath them. The sensations are overwhelming, an exquisite mix of pleasure and overstimulation that makes her cry out, her voice cracking under the intensity. Her thighs tremble violently, her muscles clenched so tight they ache, but Lando doesn’t stop. His tongue circles her clit relentlessly, his fingers thrusting deeper, pushing her higher, squeezing every drop of ecstasy from her shaking body. Tiny gasps escape her lips, each one sharp and uncontrolled, as the aftershocks ripple through her in endless waves.

When he finally pulls away, she collapses onto the bed, boneless and utterly spent. Her chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath, her legs splayed open, trembling. She can still feel the echo of her orgasm coursing through her, her pussy throbbing with the remnants of pleasure. Lando sits back on his heels, his eyes devouring her as droplets of her cum glisten on his chin, his lips curved into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s four,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride. He pulls his fingers out slowly, bringing them to his lips and tasting her. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

She looks up at him, her chest heaving, her eyes glazed with exhaustion and satisfaction. “You’re insatiable,” she breathes, her voice barely audible. 

He smirks, leaning down to kiss her softly, his lips lingering against hers as if savoring the taste of her. “And you’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze dark with admiration. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea how hot it is when you squirt. I can’t believe I made you do that—especially for the first time.” His thumb brushes her cheek, his touch tender despite the intensity in his voice. “You’re incredible. Absolutely fucking incredible.”

She feels a flush rise to her cheeks, her body still tingling from the aftermath of her orgasm. The way he looks at her—like she’s something extraordinary—makes her heart race all over again. She doesn’t know what to say, so she simply reaches up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, and he leans into her touch, his smirk softening into something more intimate.

Lando’s eyes linger on her, dark and unreadable, as he traces a finger along the curve of her hip. His touch is feather-light, almost reverent, like he’s memorizing every inch of her trembling body. She’s sprawled out beneath him, completely spent, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Her pussy throbs, raw and sensitive, still pulsing with the echoes of her last orgasm.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, filled with awe. He brushes a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “I can’t believe you just did that. Squirted for me.” His lips curve into a slow, satisfied smirk, but there’s something softer in his gaze now—something that makes her heart flutter despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

She blinks up at him, her vision still hazy, her body too weak to do much more than lie there. “I… I didn’t know I could do that,” she whispers, her voice hoarse, barely audible. Her thighs are slick, the sheets soaked beneath her, and she can still feel the faint trickle of her release between her legs. It’s overwhelming, the way her body feels both destroyed and alive, like every nerve ending has been set on fire and then doused in ice.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips warm against her skin. “You’re perfect,” he says, his tone so sincere it makes her chest ache. “Four times, Y/N. We broke your record.” There’s pride in his voice, a quiet satisfaction that makes her blush despite herself. His hand slides down her side, settling on her hip, his thumb brushing lazy circles against her skin. “And you squirted. Fuck, I’ll never forget that.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her fingers twitching as she reaches up to brush against his jaw. “You drive me wild,” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and affection. “I don’t think I can move.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm, and shifts beside her, pulling her into his arms. She nestles against his chest, her head resting over his heartbeat, steady and strong. His fingers trail up and down her back, soothing and possessive all at once. “You don’t have to move,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her hair. “Just let me hold you.”

She closes her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of his embrace. Her body feels heavy, every muscle limp and boneless, but there’s a strange sense of peace in the aftermath. The room is quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something uniquely them.

“Lando?” she whispers after a moment, her voice barely audible.

“Hmm?” His hand stills on her back, his attention fully on her.

She hesitates, her fingers curling against his chest. “Thank you,” she says softly, her cheeks flushing. “For… for making me feel like that. Like I’m…” She trails off, unsure how to put it into words.

He tilts her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft, filled with something that makes her breath catch. “Like you’re mine,” he finishes for her, his voice low and certain. “Because you are, Y/N. Completely mine.”

Her heart skips a beat, her chest tightening with an emotion she’s not ready to name. Instead, she nods, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Yours,” she agrees, her voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses her then, slow and tender, his lips moving against hers with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with the intensity of what came before. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. “Get some rest,” he murmurs, his hand sliding back down to her hip. “I’ve got you.”

She closes her eyes, letting herself drift in the safety of his arms. Her body is wrecked, her mind blissfully blank, and for the first time in a long time, she feels utterly, completely at peace.

She closes her eyes, letting herself drift in the safety of his arms. Her body is wrecked, her mind blissfully blank, and for the first time in a long time, she feels utterly, completely at peace. But then she shifts slightly, her thigh brushing against him, and she feels it—the hard, unyielding length of him pressed against her. Her eyes flutter open, her breath catching as she realizes he’s still hard, still throbbing with need.

“Lando,” she whispers, her voice soft but tinged with concern. She tilts her head back to look up at him, her brow furrowing. “You didn’t… you didn’t cum.”

He chuckles low in his chest, the sound warm and reassuring, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something hungry. His hand slides down her back, settling on her hip, his thumb brushing lazy circles against her skin. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint. “I was too focused on you.”

Her heart skips a beat, a mix of guilt and something else—something hotter—stirring in her chest. She shifts again, her hand sliding down his stomach until her fingers brush against him. He inhales sharply, his hips jerking involuntarily at her touch. “Y/N…” he warns, his voice strained, but she doesn’t stop.

“Let me take care of you,” she says softly, echoing his earlier words. Her fingers wrap around him, her touch tentative but firm, and she feels him pulse in her hand. His breath hitches, his grip on her hip tightening as she begins to stroke him slowly, her movements deliberate and teasing.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back against the pillow, his eyes closing as she works him. His hips buck into her hand, his cock slick with precum, and she can feel the tension coiled in his body, the way he’s holding himself back. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” she interrupts, her voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She leans up, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, her hand moving faster now, her thumb swiping over the tip of him. “You gave me so much. Let me give this to you.”

His breath hitches, sharp and uneven, as his body tenses beneath her touch. She can feel the way his muscles coil, every fiber of him tightening like a spring ready to snap. His cock pulses in her hand, hot and heavy, slick with precum that smears across her fingers as she strokes him with deliberate precision. Her thumb swipes over the sensitive tip, and he lets out a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking off the bed as he thrusts into her grip.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps, his voice raw and broken, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white. His chest heaves, his abs flexing with each ragged breath, and she can see the strain in his face—the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes squeeze shut as if he’s fighting to hold on just a little longer. But she doesn’t let up, her hand moving faster now, her fingers tightening around him just enough to push him over the edge.

With a deep, shuddering moan, he cums, his release spilling over her fingers in thick, hot spurts. She feels it pulse against her palm, the warmth of it coating her skin as she keeps stroking him, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until his body goes slack, collapsing back onto the bed. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath still coming in shallow gasps, and she can see the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin.

She slows her movements, her hand still wrapped around him, feeling the way he twitches in her grasp, oversensitive but utterly spent. He looks up at her, his eyes dark and hazy, filled with something that makes her heart skip a beat. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse, his lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smirk. “You’re incredible.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t pull away, her fingers tracing idle patterns along his length as she watches him come down from his high. His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with gratitude.

though, the girl had many favourite places. if you’d ask stevie, she’d name at least four before finally deciding on the playground. 

“mum, look!” stevie beamed, her tiny finger pointing towards the end of her path and the playground that came into view the farther she ran. 

you smiled at her, not needing to walk too fast to keep up with her pace. “i see, sweetheart. you wanna swing?” 

“nuh uh,” the girl shook her head, stopping in her steps to look up at you. “sandbox.” 

“ah, how could i forget,” you nodded in approval and your little girl took off running again. “don’t eat the sand, angel.” you warn as soon as you two make it to the sand pit. there’s already some toys there but pull out the pink sand toy set from your bag and hand it to stevie. 

as the little girl plays, you watch and wonder how you got so lucky with stevie, as she was already so independent for her age. she was smart, resilient, empathetic and everything you wouldn’t expect a three year old to be. 

you wanted her to remember her childhood as best as possible, so you made a scrapbook— called it ‘stevie’s adventures’— and marked down bits and pieces of her life. so far, you’ve added the hospital bracelet you wore during labour and some of her infant stuff, like socks, a few onesies and even a few binkies. 

you decide to snap a picture of her in the sandbox, now playing with a blond, curly-haired boy who couldn’t have been much older than her. taking a picture of a stranger's child would go against everything you’ve been doing to protect stevie’s personal life from online creeps, so you look around to try and find whoever’s responsible for the kid. 

the only other adult person on this playground is standing a few steps away from your bench, navy sweatered arms crossed across his chest, white cap adorning his curly haired head. he looks intimidating and cold, like he’d shatter you with just a glance. 

eventually, you muster up the courage to speak to him. “uhm, excuse me?” 

the man turns to you like he was expecting you to speak to him, moustached lips turning into a welcoming smile. “what’s up?” 

“is that your child in the sandbox?” you point to the boy, although you could already tell they were related— the subtle curls sticking out from under his cap matched the boys’ ones perfectly. the man nods, a little confused. “okay so this is really random, but i like to take pictures of moments in my daughter’s life and i was wondering if you’re okay with your son being in it?”

the stranger seems to let out a sigh of relief, a little less anxious about your line of questioning. “yeah, that’s fine.” 

you give him a slight nod accompanied by a small smile. he watches as you pull out your camera, bring it up to your eye and get your perfect shot before putting it back into your bag. when your eyes flicker back towards him, he hesitantly extends a hand. “i’m lando.”

you blink at him twice before getting up and shaking his hand. “nice to meet you, lando. i’m y/n.”

he lingers for a moment, just watching you when you turn your attention back to the kids in the sandbox. the little boy is sharing his dinosaur bucket with stevie and she’s shovelling sand into it, babbling on about something you can’t hear. 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟmarch 27th

“stevie!”

your head whips towards the source of the sound, coming from a young boy. it takes you a few seconds before you notice his dad and both of you smile at each other. 

stevie runs up to the boy and gives him a tight squeeze. “theo!” 

over the past two weeks, you had come to the park a few times and met lando, and his son theo, there each time. not on purpose, it’s just that your park schedules just seemed to match up. 

stevie became very fond of theo over such a short time and it warms your heart to see her beaming face as they play tag around the swing set.

“is your kid a picky eater?” lando suddenly asks, trying to break the unnecessarily awkward silence. “theo doesn’t eat carrots, all of a sudden. used to be his favourite snack until literally this morning.” 

you try to hide your laughter when lando pinches the bridge of his nose, jokingly frustrated with his son. “stevie doesn’t eat the crust on bread or broccoli stems.” 

“theo would agree with her about the importance of crustless bread in their diet,” lando hums, nodding at your answer. “sometimes i wonder if he’s even my kid, ‘cause his taste in food is so different.” 

“he’s the spitting image of you, lando, i figured he was yours before we even spoke.” you roll your eyes, playfully. “and i don’t think taste in anything is genetic. at least i hope not. god forbid stevie goes through the awkward teenage phase of wearing strictly skinny jeans and band tees.” 

lando chuckles. “yeah, i couldn’t see teenage theo rocking straight and damaged hair.” 

“did you straighten it?” you tilt your head to the side, curious as to why anyone would want to get rid of their curls. 

“used to,” he nods. “met theo’s mum and she taught me the proper techniques and products to use to get my hair healthy and curly again.” 

ah, theo’s mum. you had wondered if lando had a partner. not for any particular reason, it was just because you only ever saw him at the park with theo and never the boys mum.

“mum!” stevie runs up to you, out of breath. “thirsty.”

your daughter wasn’t a fan of using many words in her sentences and, at first, you had begun to worry about it, but after many doctors visits, they confirmed that it was just a quirk she had adopted.

you open your bag and take out her water bottle. stevie basically rips it out of your hands, urgent to get as many gulps down as she can before she continues to play tag with theo. 

the boy was stood by his dad, hugging him around the waist as lando pushed theo’s curls out of his face. “you tired yet?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“nuh uh,” theo shakes his head, instantly. “i like playing with stevie.” 

“i know you do, bud, but we have to make dinner. you said you’d help me make that cheesy pasta you like.” lando raises his brows a few times, trying to pique his son's interest.

theo sighs. “i know. could stevie come over someday, then?” 

lando’s eyes flicker up to yours, “could she? i host the best tea parties in town.” 

you turn your head back to stevie when an excited gasp leaves her lips. “tea party?” she practically squeals as she repeats what lando said. “mum, can we go? please, please, please!” 

the expectant look on stevie, theo, and even lando’s, faces makes you laugh. “i don’t see why not.” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟapril 4th

“and would the princess like some biscuits with her tea?” lando asked, clad in grey sweatpants, white shirt… and a superman cape. apparently this tea party turned into a costume party, and you didn’t get the memo.

your daughter giggled before tipping her head and lifting up the sides of her cinderella dress. “yes, please.”

theo sat between them, happily smiling at the exchange between lando and stevie. “i want some too, dad!”

“biscuits for batman and cinderella coming right up!” he smiles at them before looking at you and nodding his head as an urge for you to get up. you follow him into the kitchen. 

“had no idea you were superman, i feel like i should bow down to my hero or something,” you smile over the rim of your cup. 

“nah, it’s a sidegig.” lando shrugs, nonchalantly, as he pulls out a few different types of biscuits from a cupboard. “is stevie allergic to anything?” 

“nope,” you shake your head. “but she likes to say she’s allergic to cucumber peel.” 

“ah, the famous excuse for not eating food they don’t like. been there. theo was trying to convince me that he was allergic to tomatoes until i told him what ketchup was made from.” lando laughed. 

you smile at how fondly he speaks of theo. “where’s theo’s mum?” you suddenly blurt, eyes wide as you cover your mouth. “sorry, that’s such a personal question, i didn’t mean to.”

“well, you were clearly curious about it.” lando looks at you. “and that’s okay. but i’d rather talk about something else.” 

“yes, sorry.” you nod. “what do you do for work?”

“i work at a karting place. i own it, actually.” lando spreads the biscuits out nicely onto a platter, adding a few cut up fruits from the fridge to make somewhat of a charcuterie board. 

“oh, so that’s why you can afford karting for theo,” you hum, before taking a sip of your coffee, remembering one of the first conversations you had about your children’s hobbies. stevie likes to draw and play pretend, meanwhile theo finds joy in racing. 

“that and his godfather being an F1 driver,” lando smiles fondly, eyes darting up to yours for a brief second before he goes back to assembling the snack board. “i used to race, too, before theo.” 

“do you miss it?” you watch him closely, noticing the slight wince in his face. 

eventually, he shrugs. “sometimes. other times, i realise how little energy fatherhood takes out of me compared to sitting in a small, hot space for hours at a time.” 

“mm,” you hum again, nodding. you can’t really imagine anything harder than motherhood. “but that’s cars versus raising and nourishing a whole other human and personality.”

“yeah, true.” he agrees. “i guess i just got lucky with theo.”

“or he got lucky with you.” you and lando share a glance that lasts a little too long and seems a little too fond for just acquainted parents. you clear your throat and look away, instead choosing to watch whatever’s left in your mostly empty cup.

࿐ ࿔*:･ may 23rd

after a few more weeks of playdates at each other’s houses, theo saw it fit to include stevie in one of his favourite things in the world— karting.

the young boy pestered his father endlessly, using his puppy eyes technique to get what he wanted. “please?” he asked, dragging out the last syllable of the word to be a little more annoying and convincing.

“i’m sorry, bud. i don’t think she’ll like karting.” lando watched his sons face turn from hopeful to frustrated. the little boy crossed his arms over his chest, turning himself away from lando and facing the nearest wall to their couch. 

“i won’t go if she’s not there.” 

the simple yet strongly made statement forced lando to hold back a snort. “fine, i’ll call and see if she’d like to come. but i’m not promising anything.”

when friday afternoon rolled around, lando was delighted— and relieved— to see you and stevie making your way over to where he and theo were waiting. 

“dad, it’s stevie!” theo’s face lit up as stevie ran over to them. “hi!”

“hi, theo!” stevie smiled and hugged him. she waved at lando. “hey, dude!” 

“stevie, what did i tell you about calling people dude?” you say and playfully roll your eyes before looking at lando. “she randomly picked it up from who knows where and now everyone is dude.” 

lando chuckles. “that’s funny, dude.” he looks down at stevie with an excited grin. “you ready to race?” 

“heck yeah, dude.” stevie giggles and balls her hand into a fist, bumping it with lando’s. her hazel eyes look intensely at his open palm when he offers her a hand, confused as for whether or not he’s safe to walk with.

stevie’s seen and spent time with lando multiple times now, but everytime she did, you were there. in this moment, she was stood alone next to theo and lando, and even though you were only a few steps behind her, she felt like she was all by herself.

she turns her blonde head of hair towards you, eyes glancing up to look at yours. she was looking for any sign of disapproval or worry, but instead she saw you nodding your head encouragingly. “you need to get your helmet on, baby. lando will help you and then you can meet me back here, okay?”

stevie bites her lip with a glint of worry in her eye, but swiftly turns around and places her tiny palm in lando’s. lando gives you a small smile and the three of them make their way into the building. 

stevie’s worries seem to lessen the more lando jokes around with her. first, he puts his balaclava on backwards, making both the kids laugh at how goofy he looked while flailing his arms around in the air. secondly, he tries to put on a helmet too small, which again results in a fit of giggles from theo and stevie. eventually, when he finds the perfect size helmet for stevie, he gets theo’s one— obviously designed with his favourite animated characters and colours— and leads the kids outside. 

you watch as stevie runs to you, looking like a bobble-head because of how huge the helmet seemed. “woah, look at you.” you gasp as you squat down to be her height. “you scared?” 

“nuh uh,” stevie shakes her head. “lando said i’m a rockstar and i’ll do great.” 

your heart swells a bit. just as you’re about to speak, theo runs up to you both. “sorry, but my dad asked to bring stevie over to get her ready. he said you can go make coffee inside, though!” 

“thank you, theo,” you smile softly and get up, watching as the two kids run towards lando with their hands held. 

while you navigate through the building and try to find a place where you can secretly watch stevie and theo racing, lando explains how everything works to stevie. 

“okay, so,” he places a hand atop her left foot, “you’ll have to push this foot forward to move, and this one,” he places the same hand on her other foot, “to slow down and stop. okay?” 

“just like a car?” stevie tilts her head to the side, her interest piqued despite her never even seeing how a kart drives. 

lando smiles and nods. “just like a car. if you get scared, you can slow down and stop, and i’ll run over to help you. you can go as slow as you’d like but don’t go too fast, you could hurt yourself or get dizzy.” 

“okay, dude,” stevie nods, trying her best to retain as much of the information as she could. her eyes follow lando as he walks over towards theo’s kart, the two talking about something that made theo laugh. 

you watch from inside the building, worried eyes following lando’s every move. when he starts up stevie’s kart, you can briefly feel your heart stop beating. you’ve never been so scared for her, and even though lando assured you there’s no way she could hurt herself, you’re not sure if you could forgive yourself in the case of an accident. 

lando finds you holding a hand over your chest as you watched the two kids drive around the track. “hey,” he said, calmly, trying his best not to startle you. 

you gave him a weak smile. “hi. was she nervous?” 

“a little, but that’s normal.” he walked up and stood next to you, before placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “i explained to her how it works. she’s a smart kid and a fast learner.” 

“yeah,” you nodded. “what if something goes wrong?” 

“it won’t.” his voice was calm as you leaned into his touch, his arm sneaking down your back and around your waist to pull you into a side-hug. “i asked theo to let her pass him a few times so she gets the full experience of karting. maybe you’ll have a little racer on your hands.” 

your head subconsciously lays on his shoulder as your crossed arms stay firm against your chest. “yeah, don’t think i’d be able to afford it, but i guess her and theo would get to have more playdates.” 

“i’d help you,” he hummed, his own head resting atop of yours. “i mean, the competitions would probably cost a bit but i’d provide her with a kart and helmet. max would also love to pitch in.” 

“don’t be silly,” you laughed a little. “she already does ballet in the mornings.” 

“who said she can’t be a ballerina and a racer at the same time? she’d be the coolest kid on the planet if so,” he softly smiles, eyes looking down at your focused face. “besides, i’d get to spend a little more time with her mum.” 

“mhm,” you bit back a wider smile. “who says you can’t do that regardless?” 

lando’s heart skips a beat when you turn your head to look at him, only then realising how close you two actually were— his nose brushed yours when you raised your head and his breath fanned your face. he felt his stomach drop and he froze before finally giving in. 

just as you felt his lips inch closer to yours, an employee of his knocked on the doorframe to the room. “one of the kiddos stopped in the middle of the track and she’s asking for lando.” 

the curly-haired man jolts away from you, as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been and turns around to awkwardly say, “uh, okay, i’ll go and, uhm, check.” 

you can’t help but shake your head with a small laugh as you watched the man leave the room at record speed. 

meanwhile, lando was trying to keep his composure in front of the kids. he’s sure they’d blab to you if they noticed him smiling like an idiot. “everything okay, kiddo?” he kneeled in front of stevie’s kart. 

stevie tries to pull the helmet off, but the buckle keeps it tightly situated on her small head. lando helps her unbuckle it and pulls the helmet off, watching as she takes off the bright pink balaclava— her choice— and sighs. “i’m hungry.” 

lando snorts at how random her request seemed. “alright, let’s go get theo and ask your mum if she’d like to join us for dinner, yeah?” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“no, stevie, we don’t throw the food.” 

the little girl halted her movements, her hand in the air as her eyes focused on yours. she had a fist full of vegetables, ones that she clearly wasn’t enjoying, and was getting ready to throw on the floor and an evil glint in her eye. instead of doing as she first intended, she opened her fingers and the vegetables fell all over the table, a few of them landing in lando’s lap.

“sorry, sometimes she just-” you were already making up excuses for your daughter’s childish behaviour when lando cut you off.

“it’s okay, she’s probably overstimulated from an eventful day. it happens.” he shrugs as he picks the peas off from his lap. “y’know, theo threw up on me once after karting, which is why he refuses to eat before he goes on track anymore.”

you stifle a laugh before sitting back up from collecting the vegetables that fell to the floor. stevie was in active conversation with theo and seemed to have forgotten about the vegetables. a few minutes pass before lando speaks again.

“thank you,” he notices the confusion in the tilt of your head. “for coming. it means a lot to theo and, well, to me.” 

the sincerity in his voice made all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks, tinting them the gentlest shade of maroon that lando didn’t miss. “no worries, we’re happy to join you anytime.” 

lando ignores the feelings brewing in his chest and continues eating. you follow his lead and all four of you were done eating in another half hour. 

the waiter came to your table and before you could even ask to split the bill, lando was handing hera a few paper bills and she had scurried off to get his change. 

“weren’t we going to split?” you ask, a little confused. 

lando shrugged. “it’s on me, don’t worry about it.” 

you had already felt bad that he didn’t accept your money for the karting that day, or the ice cream he had bought for stevie a week or so ago, but dinner? you felt the guilt bubble in your stomach growing. “lando, it’s not fair on yo-“ 

“can you just accept that you don’t have to do everything by yourself?” he reasons. “i asked you to come to karting, i paid for it, same with dinner and that extra hour at the park so the kiddos could get ice cream from the ice cream truck. i did it because i want to and i don’t expect anything in return.”

when you look up at him, your expression clearly less upset than before, he decides to crack a joke. “except for maybe a kiss or two.” 

you roll your eyes and the waiter brings back his change just as you’re about to make a witty comeback. 

lando, being the gentleman that he is, offered to drive you both home and you couldn’t deny it after seeing how sleepy stevie had gotten. she fell asleep on the ride home and after lando pulled into the driveway of your small home, you got out to unbuckle her and carry her inside. 

theo waited patiently in the car, listening to a podcast about dinosaurs in his earbuds while lando walked you to your door. 

he smiled down at the sleeping stevie in your arms, bringing a hand up to gently caress her cheek with his finger. “we must’ve wore her out.” 

“she hadn’t had a nap today,” you looked down at your daughter. “pretty sure she’ll sleep through the night.” 

lando’s gaze had shifted to your face subconsciously and he didn’t realise how close you were getting when you looked back up at him. you pulled him in with a soft hold of his jaw, your lips gently pressing against his. 

lando’s hand came up to hold your cheek. the kiss lasted way longer than you intended, but you weren’t complaining. when you finally pulled away, breathless and pink, lando was speechless and in awe. “thank you for today.” 

you closed the door behind yourself, watching through the window of your living room as his car pulled out of your driveway. stevie covered her mouth with her small hand as she giggled. “ooo, mama kissed cool dude.”

a small gasp left your lips as you looked down at stevie. “you saw that?” she nodded her small head. “oh, god.” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ may 28th

you were making dinner in the kitchen when stevie yelled for you from the living room. 

“what is it?” you walk down the hall while wiping your hands on a dishrag. stevie points at the window, lando’s car coming into view when you step closer. “oh, what’s he doing here?” 

stevie watches from the window as you make your way outside to greet a disheveled lando and a smiley theo. 

“hey, everything okay?” you ask when the man finally looks up at you. “i didn’t know you were coming over, i would’ve doubled up on dinner.” 

“i’m not staying for long,” he says, hastily. you could tell he was stressed out and rushing somewhere. “could you watch theo for tonight?” 

“what?” you blink. 

“it’s max, he, uhm,” lando turns to theo and tells him to run inside to see what stevie was up to. when the young boy is out of earshot, lando continues. “max isn’t eating or sleeping. he’s had a bad race and the media’s giving him shit for it. i’m going to visit him and check up on him, and i’d usually bring theo but i don’t want him to see max like that.” 

“oh, god.” you place a hand on lando’s shoulder and he just pulls you into a tight hug. “i can’t imagine how stressed you are. you go take care of max, okay? theo will be okay with us.”  

“thank you so much,” lando pulls away and pecks your lips. “i’ll be back tomorrow evening.” 

and before you can even register that he just kissed you, he’s in his car and halfway down the neighbourhood.

when you make your way inside, the kiddos are on the floor in the living room, theo’s backpack open with half of the content spilled out. 

“would you like to have dinner with us, theo?” you ask the boy and he shakes his head, explaining that lando had given him his dinner before hastily packing his sleepover bag. but when you offered a snack of crackers and cheese, the boy happily agreed.

you turned on an animated film for the kids to watch as you did your washing up for the night before bed. a small smile creeped up on your face as you heard the two little humans giggling about something that only existed in their own world.

as the evening progressed and the kids grew more tired, you laid them both to bed. stevie had a second bed in her room as her cousin often comes visit during the summer, which ended up being perfect for a kid theo’s height. 

routinely, you were obligated to switch on the starry night light and read a story. theo requested a bedtime story about dinosaurs, meanwhile stevie wanted one about princesses, and you somehow managed to make both work.

once you heard the familiar tiny snores escape stevie’s lips, and when theo had turned to his side, you left the room and kept a small crevice of the door ajar. 

the next morning, you had already begun to prepare pancakes while dulcet sounds of jazz music filled your kitchen, when theo gently tugged on your apron. 

“you okay?” you kneeled down to his height and theo rubbed his tired eyes awake before pulling you into a hug. “oh.” 

“dad always gives me morning cuddles,” he explained, a certain sadness in his voice that broke your heart to hear. 

you picked the boy up in your arms and gently caressed his back. “you miss him, huh?” 

theo just nodded, nestling his head onto your shoulder as his arms laid draped over your biceps. “i knew you were as nice as dad said.” 

you can’t help but softly smile at his comment. “thank you, theo. he talks about me?” 

you knew it was wrong to ask a kid such a question, but the words had already escaped your mouth before you could catch them. 

“sometimes,” he hums, a yawn threatening to make its presence. “i think he likes you a lot.” 

“yeah? how so?” you poke his side as a tease. 

theo straightens up a bit, to see your face. “he gets shy when he talks about you to maxie and pietra. and he gets all red like you are right now.” 

you shake your head and tickle his face with the hair that flings around you both. “am not.”

“are too,” he giggles. 

you place him down on the ground and give him an encouraging tap on the back. “how about you go wake stevie up for pancakes?” 

“can you cut it into a pterodactyl?” 

 “can i cut it into a pterodactyl?” theo giggles when you scoff, displaying faux offence. “of course i can.”

the little boy runs back down the hallway and towards stevie’s room. your heart bursts a little when he calls out for your daughter.

“stevie! your mum’s making dinosaur pancakes!” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ june 10th

you expected your first date with lando to be somewhere fancy enough for you to wear a dress you bought while still pregnant with stevie. 

fortunately for both of you, lando offered a night in and you were far too big of a romcom lover to deny his request. 

“thank god you agreed to this,” lando slumps his shoulders when you pry open your front door. you take a second to admire his simple attire— a light blue zip up hoodie with matching sweatpants. 

you move to the side and open the door a little more to let him in. “thank god to max and pietra for agreeing to watch both the kids.” 

“oh, yeah, they’ve been begging me to bring both you and stevie over since the first time you four met.” he sets the bags of stuff down on the dining table. “i think pietra adores you a little.” 

“i hope she knows the feelings are mutual, she’s so cool.” you smile softly. 

“hey, she said the same about you!” lando laughs and when you come close enough, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a hug from behind while unbagging. 

“i bought way too much ice cream but i didn’t know what flavour you liked best so i chose five that i hoped you liked.” he explains as he takes out the third box. “oh, and wine.” 

you lean back into his chest and turn your head just barely to place a kiss on his jawline. “thank you.”

lando’s heartbeat speeds up in a brief second and he hopes you can’t see the blush on his face. he quickly recollects himself and, without letting you go, brings both of you to your kitchen. of course, both of you being so close against one another means that you nearly trip and fall with every step you take. 

eventually, through many giggles and bumps into furniture, you two find yourselves in the living room, spoons and ice cream in hand. 

lando takes a seat on the sofa, arm draped over the back of it as an invitation for you to join him. once you pluck the remote off the coffee table and fetch a blanket for the two of you, lando feels you nestle against him.

“what’re we watching?” he asks, eyes focused on you instead of the screen. 

you shrug. “horror movie?” 

“no,” he sternly says. “i hate them. rom-com, please.”

you stifle a laugh and focus back on the television. after skimming through the films, the two of you choose notting hill and cozy up to watch it. 

about half an hour in, you notice lando’s heartbeat quicken underneath your cheek, but you decide to brush it off as nothing. eventually, he speaks up. 

“so, i’ve been thinking,” lando begins, his voice soft and cautious. his eyes search your face, looking for any sign that might stop him from saying what’s on his mind. but all he sees is the face he’s grown to love and that only urges him to continue.

you slightly sit up, a little worried by what he’s going to say. “about what?”

“us, our kids, you.” he reaches over to grab your hand in his. as his thumb gently caresses the back of your hand, his eyes rest on yours. “i love the way things are between us lately, and i like being around you and stevie, but i want to be more than just movie nights and playdates.” 

your heart skips a beat. “you mean… like, officially? you want to be together?” 

he nods with that same smile you’ve grown so fond of. “yeah, i mean, i know it’s a long-shot and it’s risky with our kids’ friendship and all, but theo already loves you and i’m sure stevie adores me,” he jokes and you playfully roll your eyes. “but it would make me the happiest man alive if you were my girlfriend.” 

“wow,” you’re speechless. “i didn’t think i’d actually hear you say that.”

“i’ve been overthinking it for days,” he laughs, anxiety riddled all across his face as he watches your expression. he can’t exactly read it and that makes him even more nervous. “not to pressure you or anything-“

“yes,” you cut him off, a wide grin on your face as he pulls you into a hug. “i’ve never been so giddy about someone before.”

“yeah?” he flashes you that same, wide grin before pulling you in for a kiss.

“oh gosh, we have to tell the kids,” you gasp with a hand gently pushing lando’s kissy face away. he furrows his brows, confused as for why he can’t kiss his girlfriend.

“theo knows,” lando shrugs. “i told him that i’d be asking you to be my girlfriend and at first asked if he’d be okay with that.”

“and what’d he say?” you lay your head in lando’s lap as he plays with your hair, a small smile on his face. 

“he asked if that means you’ll be able to stay around more, and then said that you make the best pancakes.”

“oh, did he tell you about the dinosaur pancakes?”

lando nods. “he asked me to make them the next morning and told me to take him to your house, because i didn’t get them right.”

a laugh escapes your lips. “you could’ve come over, you know? i would’ve been happy to serve theo some more dino pancakes, and maybe taught you how to make them.”

“yeah?” he leans down to place a kiss on your lips, hoping that this time you don’t push him away. and it’s quite the opposite actually, because he feels your hand on the back of his head, tugging gently at the curls cascading down his neck as you pull him in deeper.

despite having kissed you a couple times before, this kiss makes lando that much more excited to spend as much time with you as you and stevie were willing to grant him. 

and he’ll make sure it’s the most loved you two will ever feel. 

࿐ ࿔*:･ december 14th

“theo, watch your step.”

the young boy was carrying a box bigger than himself with stevie following right behind him, a smaller box of her stuff in hand. 

today was the day you were moving into your new home– a home you and stevie will be sharing with the two most important boys in your life– and you couldn’t be more excited. 

to some, it seemed like it all came too soon— the relationship, the moving in together, caring for each other’s child whenever the other needed it, but neither you nor lando cared what others thought. 

it was clear from the first few months of knowing you that lando would be head over heels in love with you. he didn’t care how quickly your lives entwined, instead he was excited to see what would grow from it.

you placed the last few boxes in the living room and stood in the doorframe to the dining room, watching as stevie and theo chased each other, their laughter echoing off of the walls. 

lando’s hands creep around your waist as he pulls you in from behind. he places a gentle kiss against your hairline, “welcome home, love.”

you turn around to face him, arms instinctively hugging his neck as your eyes well with tears. 

“welcome home to us.” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ two years later, june 26th

the sun peeked from behind the clouds, rays of light bouncing off of your face as the pinks, blues and oranges merged into a beautiful sunset above the water. 

it was one of the warmer days and lando decided to take you all out for a picnic on the beach. it wasn’t unusual for him to plan spontaneous activities, but still he was nervous you knew what he was up to. 

the velvet box sat tucked away in the bag of stuff he packed, his heartbeat quickening every time you dove into it to find something you needed. 

that’s where theo came in.

“y/n,” he called out just as your hand was reaching into the exact corner the box was located in. you turned your attention to the boy, sitting up straight. 

while theo was blowing your mind with his dinosaur facts, lando hastily stuck his hand into the bag and retrieved the ring box, immediately putting it into his pocket. when theo glanced back over to his dad, lando gave him a reassuring wink and the boy took off to play by the water with stevie, again. 

“oh, guess that’s all he wanted,” you shrugged before turning around to lando. “you didn’t pack any napkins?” 

“oh,” lando panicked. fuck, through all his meticulous planning with max and pietra, he forgot to pack the most important thing. how was he supposed to propose with his hands all messy? “uhm, no, must’ve forgot, sorry.”

you leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “that’s alright, i’ll go splash around in the water with the kiddos and wash my hands then.” 

lando watched as you pulled yourself up and made your way towards the water, his heart pounding against his sternum. he took one last glance at the box that could make or break the future with you he had already planned out in his head, and followed your lead. 

once he was close enough, stevie ran up to him. “lando! the water is so warm, come feel it.” 

he couldn’t say no to the little girls pleading eyes and followed her as she dragged him to the water. he took that as one last chance to calm himself down and get it over with. 

lando was only nervous because it wasn’t just you he’s proposing to. stevie had become such an important part of his life that he’s afraid of ruining her perception of him if the proposal were to go wrong. and his mother already loved the girl, even after the handful of times they’ve met. 

so, anxiety was understandable in his case.

he watched stevie’s wide grin as she looked out at the water, and then behind herself to where her mum and theo were chatting. 

you had noticed lando’s behaviour change, ever since last night, but you figured it was something he’d bring up to you if he wanted to talk about it, so you haven’t paid much thought to it. 

lando’s made his to you, stevie’s small hand in his, and his other one on the box. his chest felt like it was getting smaller and smaller with each step he took towards you. the only thing that calmed him down was your smile while looking at them both. 

you watched as stevie let go and ran towards you, yet quickly swerved to find where theo was. your eyes followed her to see that she wouldn’t run into any trouble, and when you turned back around, you saw a nervous lando. “you okay?” you nervously laugh. “you’ve been weird all day today.” 

“there’s so many things i could say to you right now, but i think it’s better to save them for our vows.”

“vow- what?” you furrow your brows. that’s when he sinks down to one knee and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

he took a breath, a small smile adorning his face, and then the words you had dreamed of hearing, ever since you were a little girl, left his mouth.

“will you marry me?”

࿐ ࿔*:･ wedding day

you watched the on-going bustle of guests from the window of your lonesome dressing room.

the echoing sound of your heart pounding against your sternum was loud in your head as you tried to steady your breathing. this was actually, really happening. 

you felt your hands shake with how nervous you were, albeit having practiced your vows in the mirror for the past two months, and knowing that lando is truly the one you wish to spend the rest of your life with. 

your feet drag you across the hardwood floor of the dressing room, fingers nervously fiddling with one of the more textured parts of your dress. you could feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the clock on the wall ticked by, each second granting you a moment more of anxiety and stress. 

your head whips towards the door when a knock echoes through the empty room. “uhm, who is it?” 

the door pries open to reveal a curly head of hair with a hand over his eyes. “me, may i come in?” 

“what the hell, no?!” you exclaim, panicking. “it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the ceremony, we talked about this.” 

despite your best efforts to verbally usher him out, lando makes his way inside and shuts the door behind him, his eyelashes resting atop his cheeks as the green of his irises stay hidden behind eyelids. 

“i know, i know,” he sighs in defeat. “but i just had to come see you before the ceremony. well, not see you, exactly, but just, be in your presence, i guess.” 

you drop your arms by your sides, sulking a little. “i’m so nervous, lan,” lando could hear your pout and it made him smile. 

“i know, me too,” he makes his way over to where he thinks you are and reaches a hand out to find the cusp of your waist. he can feel the fabric of the dress as it sits atop your skin, a smirk forming on his lips. “feels pretty.”

“hey, no!” you swat his hand away. “i’ll run away from the wedding if you do that again.”

“oh, c’mon,” he defends, smiling underneath his palm. his eyes were still shut and his left hand covered them tightly, not a single space left between his fingers to ensure that he couldn’t get even a glance. “i don’t even get a feel?” 

“not even a feel,” you cross your arms over your chest and realised he can’t see your sassiness like he usually would. “i just crossed my arms, by the way.”

“i know,” lando shrugs. “i also know you’ve been staring out the window and ogling at people like a psycho.”

you furrow your brows, “how’d you know that?”

“cause i know you.” 

a shiver runs down your spine and you can’t help but blush at what lando says, even after close to three years of being together. “what did you really come here for?”

“a good luck kiss?” he asks, so soft and hopeful, that it makes you give in. lando feels your hands gently guiding his face down towards yours, before your lips softly rest against his. he, of course, tries to kiss you like usual– aggressive, long and sweet. 

yet you pull away before he can even think of pulling you in by the chin. “the better kiss is for the ceremony, babe,”

he sighs and drops his shoulders, his head dropping as he displays faux disappointment. “fine, whatever. saying you hate me would hurt less.”

“yeah, because i hate you so much that both me and my daughter are taking your last name,” you roll your eyes. 

“our daughter,” his voice is stern when he corrects you. lando hears a noise outside the door, suddenly alert and tense. “i think it’s almost time.”

you take one last peek out the window and notice everyone in their seats. “oh, god, yeah. go, you can’t be seen here.”

“alright, love you, see you out there” he turns around and reaches for the door. “pretend i winked at you when i said ‘see you out there’, cause i couldn’t actually wink an-“

“lando, go!” you step closer to him, your dress whispering beneath you as your hands gently urge him to leave. 

“one more kiss?” he suddenly turns back around and you roll your eyes. 

“you’re impossible,” you cup his face again.

“so i’ve been told,” he smirks against your lips. “and yet you’re marrying me, mrs. norris.”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” you place another peck against his pursed lips before the door shuts in front of you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts, again. 

you stand there for a moment, heart racing and palms sweating, yet still you were feeling more certain than ever that this was the best decision you ever could’ve made.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

the ceremony has long passed and now you are in the middle of the dance floor, your hands held with theo. 

the young boy expressed that he didn’t want to dance anymore, so you brought him to the table where his plate sits. on it, of course, are the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets you and lando specifically requested for theo to have. 

your kids were now six and five, both very unique and yet somehow very similar. 

theodore maxwell norris was a smart boy, interested in pretty much anything to do with dinosaurs, space or monster trucks. he requested to spend his sixth birthday at a museum, which stevie was absolutely thrilled with. the two young children had always known how to entertain each other, ever since they met. 

stephanie jane norris, albeit a year younger than theo, was also quite smart for her age. she found interest in princesses, nature and most recently, karting. she accompanied theo to multiple of his races and took part in some practice laps, and found that it’s actually more fun than she remembered. 

your eyes caught a glimpse of lando as he danced with stevie on the dance floor, the little girl actively shaking her head to a rock song and lando laughing at her with max. the girl then grabbed both of them by the hand and started dancing in a circle, in turn bringing a smile to your face. 

“y/n?” theo poked your arm to catch your attention. you look down at him as he’s sat on the chair, eyes glaring up to yours. “do i have to call you mum now?” 

you kneel down to be his height and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” 

the little boy just shrugs before taking another chicken nugget off of his plate, “okay, mum.”

you felt your heart swell and eyes well with tears at the fact that he so casually called you mum. you had imagined that it’d take at least a few more years of getting more comfortable with you for that to happen, but the boy saw no reason not to call you that. stevie called lando dad, anyway, so it only seemed fair in his eyes.

what theodore failed to realise was that, without even knowing it, he managed to make extra room in your heart and build a pillow fort there, in which he and stevie resided. you had convinced yourself that stevie would be your only true love in this world, that you didn’t need to meet anyone or have more kids.

it’s funny how a man and his son could waltz their way into your life, and turn it around for the better. 

theo felt you place a gentle kiss to his head before you excused yourself to go dance with his dad. in the meanwhile, stevie had made her way behind theo and scared him. 

“don’t do that, stevie,” theodore warns before picking up his apple juice box and taking a few gulps. 

the girl shifts her weight from her heels to her toes. “sorry, theo. do you want to dance?” 

“can i be a dancing t-rex?” he asked, an eyebrow rising with curiosity. 

stevie giggled. “only if i can be your sister t-rex. let’s go!”  

he watched as you ran back towards the dance floor, his face still evidently confused as he mumbled to himself, “i thought she already was my sister?” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟinterview about max fewtrell’s wdc

“theo! daddy’s on tv!” stevie’s voice echoed through the living room and theo came rushing in with a bowl of popcorn, as if the interview was some sort of movie.

you were sandwiched between the two kids, the bowl strategically placed in your lap so they don’t have to strain too much to get their snack. 

the television screen showed a clear shot of lando and max chatting, lando’s arm wrapped around his best friend’s shoulders as he congratulated him again. 

the interviewer— theo had informed you that he was a retired formula one driver, nico rosberg— invited them in to chat and all three of you eagerly watched, waiting for them to start talking. 

“lando! what a pleasant surprise to see you here,” his german, or maybe british, accent echoed in the living room. “haven’t seen you here since you left the sport.”

“yeah, y’know,” lando flashed his wide, toothy grin, “life had other plans.” 

“yeah?” nico tilted his head to the side. “how’s your family? your son doing okay?”

lando pointed at the camera next to them. “they’re watching from our home back in england,” he turns his face towards the lens and waves at it. “hi guys.”

stevie and theo eagerly wave back. “hi dad!” they say, in unison, before breaking into a fit of giggles. 

lando continued talking about personal matters, trying his best not to get too into it. he knew how the media was, and you had already had some encounters with less than pleasant fans. 

finally, as nico was ready to wrap up the interview, he asked lando if there was anything he missed from his racing days. 

“honestly? no.” he shrugged. “i think quitting opened up a plethora of new opportunities for me, including growing my own little family. my wife and i are blessed to have each other and raise our daughter and sons.”

“sons?” nico furrows his brows. he lowers the microphone away from their faces and leans in cautiously. “i thought you had only theo?” 

theo looks up at you. “you’re pregnant?” 

“i’m going to have another brother? awesome!” stevie jumped up on the couch, and your fingers found the bridge of your nose to pinch, in search of any comfort. 

lando panicked. “i, uhm, max did great. he’s much stronger and tougher than he lets on, and maybe we should let the champion talk, yeah?” he blurted out all in one breath as he grabbed max by the shoulders and pulled him towards nico. max shook his head with confusion before turning towards the interviewer. 

little did he know his best friend just announced your pregnancy to the entire world. 

࿐ ࿔*:･ mother’s day

“mum!” 

you heard their fragile little voices from behind your closed bedroom door and tried your best to sit up, your pregnant belly making it that much harder to function. 

you’ve been on bedrest for the past week, and it’s been absolutely amazing getting to rest, but so boring. what does one do when forced to stay in bed all day? 

stevie and theo knew the answer.

“could we make mother’s day cards for mum?” theo asked lando over breakfast, just as he was making your oatmeal with berries.

the curly-haired man shrugged. “sure, but you only have until tomorrow morning.”

“ooh! and can we get her heart balloons and flowers?” stevie muffled, as she finished up the last bites of her pancake.  

“we don’t speak with our mouths full, love,” lando warns. “but yes, we can also get her balloons and flowers. you guys think she’ll like that?” 

“and a kiss from dad,” stevie giggled before hopping off her chair and making her way to the dish washer. lando shook his head with a laugh. 

in the very crack of morning, while all of you were sound asleep, lando had gone to the grocery store to buy all the necessities— red roses, self care items, some sweets and, of course, heart balloons, as per stevie’s instructions. 

when the kiddos woke up and when lando had made sure you were awake as well, they made their way to the master bedroom. 

their small hands knocked a rhythm onto the door before they heard your silent “come in!” 

your face lit up with a smile when your three favourite people made their way into the bedroom. “happy mother’s day!” the three of them smiled at you and lando pouted when he saw your eyes well with tears.

you soundlessly said “hormones” before stretching your arms out to bring both of your little loves into a hug.  

stevie presented you her card first. “it’s us! and we’re on an air balloon. and that’s baby.” 

she pointed her little fingers at the five figures on the page— you were holding hands with lando and next to you stood your three children. the newborn baby was in a stroller, which you took as a sign that stevie hopes your son will be here soon. 

next it was theo’s turn. he gave you the card without saying anything, instead offering you another hug when tears spilled down your cheeks as you read it. stars live in space and also in you! happy mother’s day. scribbled in the cutest six year old writing you’ve ever read. 

lando later explained that theo had watched a video about there, supposedly, being stardust in everyone’s blood, which made you even more emotional.

“thank you, my loves,” you hugged them all once again before lando made his way over to give you a kiss and the flowers. 

“thank you for being the best wife and mother to my kids that i could have asked for.”

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟwhere it all began.

baby noises and giggles fill your living room as you try to set up the camera to the best of your abilities. 

“theo, honey, could you hold henry more towards the middle?” you ask as you press your eye to the viewfinder eyepiece to check what the photo would look like. 

stevie sat on the left side of the sofa, an empty space left on the edge for you, as your newest addition— a six month old boy named henry parker norris— was snuggled between her and theo, with lando on the far right edge. 

“babe, just set it to video and come sit,” lando said, a little annoyed by how long the whole process is taking. “henry’s getting fussy.” 

“he’s okay, lan,” you roll your eyes. “and this is going in stevie’s scrapbook, so it needs to be perfect.”

it’s a few more minutes before you finally sit down and wait for ten seconds before you hear the click of your camera. after close inspection, you realise that stevie was making a weird face, lando was mid-blink, your hair looked a mess and theo was looking at henry. 

a sigh of defeat escapes your lips right as your front door opens and in comes pietra. “oh my god, thank god you’re here.” you exclaim, as if you hadn’t invited her for coffee, and she looks at you with a confused smile. “can you help with family photos?” 

she nodded and, without hesitation, followed you back to the living room. pietra stood behind the camera on the not-so-stable tripod and ordered you all around before snapping a few pictures. her logic was that if you take enough pictures in a set amount of time, at least a few of them are going to turn out good. 

and, after inspecting the pictures closely once more and deciding that they’re better than just good, you give her a hug and slump into it. “thank you, i was beginning to lose hope of making her a good scrapbook spread for her birthday.” 

pietra laughed. “she’s lucky to have such a hard-working mum, so i doubt she’d mind. but i’m happy to help!” 

after giving him the green light, lando helped the kids change and took care of henry’s feeding and diaper before packing them all up for a walk. “we’ll go make dinner while you two take my little man on a walk, sound good?”

you nodded and gave him a soft peck, and pietra followed you out to the front yard. both of you watched as lando, stevie and theo walked towards the car, on their way to the grocery store, while little henry waited for you, snug in his stroller. 

“i never imagined it,” pietra started. “lando being a dad to more than just theo, i mean. it suits him.” 

“yeah?” you turn your head towards her, a small and proud smile on your face as your fingers softly wrapped around the handle of the stroller. “i never imagined finding anyone else as important as stevie was to me. like i didn’t know my heart could expand enough to fit more than just her in there, y’know.” 

“yeah,” she nodded, following you as you made your way towards one of your favourite places in the world. “i mean, i guess that makes sense since you were each other’s biggest love for three years.”

“yeah, but now she’s a lot more loving to lando than me” a laugh leaves your lips. the chilly spring air caressed your cheeks as you pushed the beige coloured stroller. your little newborn lay peacefully in it, little eyes curiously wandering around. 

he was barely six and a half months old, but already so attentive, responsive and curious, and looked just like stevie when she was this age. he was a peaceful baby so far— not much fussing during the day and he slept well at nights. on the few occasions that he didn’t, lando would be up in a flash to take care of your little henry’s needs.

it was endearing to watch him explore fatherhood with three kids now, as opposed to when it was just him and theo. you admired how sweet he was with stevie while explaining why he does what he does when changing diapers or fixing bottles, or how he intently listened to theo’s explanation on how to properly burp a baby. 

“is this the place?” pietra nudged her chin at the playground that’s slowly coming more into view. it’s a little more worn now– the paint had chipped off the bars where theo used to pretend he was a monkey on, and the slide had little divots, yet it used to be smooth and barely worn out when stevie used to insist on taking it backwards, with her belly to the metal.

it brought back some nostalgia to when you first met lando. it was on the very same bench that pietra was sitting on right now. you watched the playground with a small smile on your lips, a tear threatening to spill from your eye.

henry fussed in the stroller and immediately calmed down when you placed a gentle hand on his tummy to steady him. “we’re at the playground. you’ll get to play here with your brother and sister when you’re a little older.”

pietra silently watched as you picked him up and gently laid his cheek to rest on yours, his little eyes adjusting to the light around him. henry looked around, the plethora of colours elicited a few excited ooh’s from his little body. “this is where i met your dada,” you smiled at henry. 

henry cooed as you pointed to things at the playground and explained each ones significance. you knew he didn’t understand it yet, but you were willing to tell him the story over and over again. it was the biggest twist of fate you had ever experienced– that very morning, stevie had begged you to finally take a walk since it had been too cold for months now, and you agreed.

if you had been just a little more careful and told her to wait another day, week or month, chances are you wouldn’t be holding your baby while your husband made dinner at home with your other two kids. 

pietra perked up when you walked over to her and she immediately extended her hands to take henry from you. “come to auntie p,” she baby talked as you handed her your son. “he has a nose just like lando’s.”

“he has the neck strength like lando’s, too.” you sit down beside her and closely watch as she gently bounced henry on her knees. just then, you blurted something that had been on your mind for a while. “do you think it’s weird that lando and i are together?”

“excuse me?” she turns to you with a confused face. “why would anyone think that?”

“i don’t know, i mean, like…” you take a second to collect your thoughts. it was starting to sound like you were regretting this life, meanwhile it was the complete opposite. “like the way we met, it was random.”

“it’s not random, love,” pietra rolls her eyes. “it’s something called fate.”

henry let out a happy noise at your question, his tiny fingers reaching out to poke at pietra’s face. “you agree, huh, lil’ man?” she asks as he pushes his whole hand to her cheek, and you can’t help but laugh at the unfolding scene in front of you.

after a few moments, when henry was back in his stroller and you two were on your way back home, you looked back to the area behind you with a sentimental look in your eye. “who knew playgrounds and playdates would bring me the loveliest life i could’ve imagined?”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Since Lando Norris broke up with his then-girlfriend Luishina in 2022, no one has seen him this happy since. Of course, there have been moments where Lando walked around smiling - for example, when he won his first race in Miami or partying with friends in Ibiza. On more than one occasion, fans saw him joking and laughing until his stomach hurt with other drivers, but further down the line, everyone knew that the old Lando was gone. The one who laughed through love. The one foolishly in love, who proved it at every turn. Since his former relationship, Lando hasn't bonded with anyone - there were only rumors of fleeting romances or PR relationships. Until recently. In fact, no one knows when it took place. And since when Lando felt like a foolishly infatuated boy again.

THE FIRST TIME: Oscar Piastri When Oscar noticed changes in Lando's behavior, it was not much before the Japanese race. Or at least it wasn't so visible before. Norris was walking around smiling from ear to ear, constantly forgetting what he should do or who he should talk to about the changes in the car. No one paid much attention to it, and Oscar initially tried to ignore it as well, and winning in Miami a month later further eclipsed the spy's thoughts. After all, Lando had won his first race after so long in Formula One and so many times standing on the podium. The Mclaren drivers weren't the best of friends on the grid, but Oscar knew it wasn't because of winning the race. Or at least not just because of that.

Oscar was curious, even if he said very little about his life, the Lando case drilled him from the bottom up. And it started off small.

One morning 2 weeks after the Miami race, Lando showed up for a meeting with a goofy smile on his face. His attention was focused on everything during the strategy discussion, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” asked Oscar, poking his teammate under the table. As if awakened from his trance, Lando stopped tapping his fingers against his thigh and turned his head toward the Australian, smiling that silly grin again. “Yeah, all good, mate. “ he asked, tilting his head to the side. Oh, how foolishly charmed he was. “Why do you ask?”

Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem... happier these days. What brought back that smile?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment. Lando hung his head and laughed quietly under his breath, as if he was thinking whether he wanted to say it or rather not. And that was the option he chose, keeping his new infatuation to himself.

“Well, you know, buddy, I won a race recently. A chance to celebrate, huh?”

Oscar laughed, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind that smile, and that Lando was lying right in his eyes. Something - or someone - had brought back that trademark Lando smile. But Oscar decided to let it go for now.

Meanwhile, Lando was smiling to himself. Was it really that noticeable? Could everyone now know his sweet secret?

Such questions were cluttering his mind, but he tried not to worry about them. They were quickly superseded by thoughts of [Y.N]. It was wild how fast she had slipped into his life. What had started as a chance meeting turned into hours of effortless conversation, late-night phone calls, and a connection that had somehow brought him back to life. He hadn't felt this way since…. well, he couldn't remember the last time. And that was the point of it all.

MUPPETS: Carlos Sainz Jr Carlos had known Lando since 2019, so this year was their 5th anniversary of knowing each other. From the very beginning, the men, despite the age difference, got along great. And they soon became friends, too, supporting each other in worse and better moments. You could say they knew each other like the back of their hand, so while Lando was drifting away more and more each possible time during their conversations, the Spaniard had no more questions or thoughts. He was well aware that his younger friend's head was occupied by not something, but someone.

The sun beat down on the lush green of the golf course, the Spanish heat was unrelenting even in the early hours of the day. Carlos set up for his shot, squinting against the blinding glare, while Lando stood to the side, waiting his turn. It was a rare moment of calm before the chaos of the Spanish Grand Prix weekend, and Carlos was glad to be spending it with his best friend.

Until he saw Lando miss every time, which hadn't happened all that often before. Well, okay, Lando was worse than Carlos at golf, but to that extent?

And those constant glances at the phone, which he was so reluctant to leave in the golf cart.

“Ay, muppet. What the hell is wrong with you?” rang out Carlos' voice as he hit the ball.

Of course it flew cleanly where it was supposed to fly. But what's the pleasure of playing as your friend drills a hole in the grass with his club, his other hand constantly checking his phone screen?

"Huh?" Lando snapped out of his trance. This had been happening to him more and more often lately, nay, it had been happening to him for more than three months now.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot all day,” Carlos teased, though his tone was softer, more curious than mocking. “Actually, you’ve been like this for weeks like not months now. So, tell me—who is she?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly turned his attention to the golf ball at his feet, fiddling with his club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but there was a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. And in fact, I don't think he wanted to get rid of it.

Carlos laughed, poking Lando playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, cabrón. I know you too well and it's been a long time since you've been this happy. So who's the lucky girl? Who brought back that smile?”

Lando sighed under his breath - he knew he could trust Carlos, he was his best friend. He just liked the fact that he and [Y.N] were in a closed bubble of happiness that they had made for themselves in three months. Of course it was still fresh and nothing was certain yet, but Lando gave in. To whom as to whom, but to Carlos he already had to tell. It was drilling him from the inside.

“It's … nothing serious,” Lando finally said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. “It's just… I'm meeting someone. I'm trying to keep it discreet.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, I've known you long enough to know when you're serious about someone,” he said, and his voice became softer. “And if she makes you smile like that, I'd say it's more than a casual.”

Lando bit his lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. The truth was that [Y.N] had quickly become the best part of his days.

“Maybe,” he admitted, finally meeting Carlos' gaze. “But for now it's just … between us, sure?

Carlos clapped Lando on the back, a broad grin on his face. “I’m happy for you, hermano. And don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. But I have to say, it’s good to see you like this again.”

They both laughed and Lando already knew he was lost. Together, with Carlos, were like the biggest gossips, so he quickly unlocked his phone, even jumping up and down with happiness, wanting to show Carlos some pictures of them together. What luck befell him when he found out that [Y.N] also loves to take pictures.

Carlos leaned closer, curious. Lando pulled out a photo from a few weeks ago - from his once-in-a-lifetime date with [Y.N]. They were sitting on a blanket in a meadow somewhere by the water, the golden sunset casting a warm glow over them. The girl's head was tilted toward him and resting on his shoulder, her eyes were crinkling with laughter, and Lando looked happier than Carlos had seen him in a long time. His hand was on the girl's shoulders, visibly embracing her closer to him.

“I want her to be the one, you know?” muttered Lando, smiling even wider when he saw the notification from her.

LUCKY CHARM: Lando's parents Lando was able to hide his fresh relationship from his friends, from his fans and from the rest of the world. But he definitely couldn't hide it from his parents and siblings. Not even a month of knowing [Y.N] had passed when he vividly talked about how much he had fallen in love and how he hoped she was the one and last woman in his life. His loved ones were damn happy to finally see the most sincere smile of his entire life on the face of this little Lando Norris.

The air around Silverstone was charged with electricity, and the energy of the home crowd gave Lando joy like no other race on the calendar. Walking through the bustling paddock, he felt lighter than he had in years. It wasn't just the thrill of racing on his own track - it was the realization that somewhere among the sea of faces there was [Y.N], watching him.

Fortunately, he managed to smuggle her into a private hospitality suite, away from prying cameras, journalists and fans. They had been seeing each other for almost four months, in truth they were not a couple, but everything was going for it. Lando wasn't the only one who was foolishly infatuated with the relationship; the girl, like him, walked around with her head in the clouds, as her university colleagues or friends seemed to notice more than once. But in her case it was easier to hide, after all, she didn't have a million eyes on her like Lando did.

When Lando entered his private area in the Mclaren garage, he immediately noticed his parents, sisters and brother, who were smiling at him from ear to ear. The entire Norris family had a close relationship with each other, so of course everyone knew about Lando's new sweetheart, whom he had been dating with for four months.

“And there's our smiling boy!” laughed Lando's mother, hugging her son tightly. The driver laughed under his breath, hugging his family one by one, fortunately in a place where the eyes of others did not reach and they could have a moment of peace. “I'm glad you're all here,” Lando said, stroking his younger sister Flo's hair.

“How could we not be here?” asked Oliver, Lando's brother, laughing under his breath.

The atmosphere was great, however, everyone knew this question would come sooner than perhaps it should?

“Well, you know what, tell us where she is,” said Lando's dad, poking him lightly on the shoulder. “You're laughing so hard, I won't believe she's not here.”

“Yes! Show us finally what brought back that smile,” said his mom, echoing her husband.

Lando felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. “You two don’t miss a thing, do you?” he said, shaking his head.

“We just want to meet her,” his mum said softly, eyes twinkling with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about her, and if she’s the reason our son’s been so happy lately, we’d love to say hello.”

After a moment's thought, Lando nodded. “All right. I'll bring her - but behave,” he said with nervous but excited energy.

Lando slipped stealthily out of the garage and headed for his room, which only he and a few Mclaren people had access to. Although it was a rather hidden place, [Y.N] did not complain. She could wait out the time until the race in peace, just as she could go out to Mclaren's garage and watch it there. Lando made her as comfortable as possible.

When the girl saw him, she raised her eyes and smiled warmly in his direction. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. At the same time, he forced her to get up from the soft couch. “But… there is someone who wants to meet you. My family is even dying to meet the woman of my heart.”

The girl took a deep breath and smiled. “I'd love to meet them.”

Holding hands, they returned to the hospitality. When they went inside, Lando's mother sighed quietly and immediately crossed the room to hug [Y.N]. “Oh, how nice to finally meet you,” she said, and her voice was filled with sincere warmth.

“She's beautiful,” Cisca whispered, looking at Lando. The boy only whispered a quiet “I know” and laughed under his breath.

Immediately the whole family greeted the girl, hugging her tightly and bestowing kind words on her, including telling her how happy they were that she was making Lando so happy again. And everything was somehow better. His parents and siblings were talking to the girl he'd had in his heart for several months, and everything was going smoothly. Lando was just standing off to the side, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a little kiss to make her feel better. But he was probably the most stressed one there.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-start jitters begin to overwhelm him. But today he felt a little better than usual.

“I have to go now,” he said reluctantly, turning to face the girl. His parents moved away to give them a moment of privacy.

“You can do it, you're amazing on the track,” she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently correcting his suit.

Lando merely smiled in her direction and without hesitation placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick but tender kiss. This was not how they had imagined their first kiss, but in that moment it was their best memory and the time this kiss could have happened. Lando pulled away from [Y.N], their eyes met and they both smiled at each other, giggling under their breath.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-race jitters starting to creep in.

“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, turning to her. His parents stepped back to give them a moment of privacy.

“Good luck out there,” she whispered, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re going to do amazing.”

Lando smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “I hope so. This one’s important,” he said softly.

[Y.N] reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve got this, Lando. I believe in you.”

Without thinking, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a swift, impulsive kiss. It wasn’t planned, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled back, their eyes locking, and they both smiled.

“For good luck,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

And even if he came in third place after the race, it didn't bother him much. He won something better and it was an amazing woman.

HI IBIZA: Max Fewtrell stream Max knew Lando since they were kids. Both could not imagine life without the other person, they were inseparable. Even if it didn't work out for them to be Formula One drivers by their side, it didn't change anything. They were always side by side, and as soon as Max heard about Lando's new crush, he knew this was the one. Norris had never talked so seriously and eagerly about any girl before. And Max liked to tease him about it. But at the same time, he was damn happy.

The warm glow of sunset in Ibiza paints everything with a golden sheen. Lando Norris, Max Fewtrell and their group of friends held a casual live stream at their bungalow, which they rented for the whole group of friends. This stream was definitely different from their typical ones, where they played games on two different sides of the screen, but that was good too.

Everyone was more muted than at times when they were playing and shouting at each other. However, the biggest difference could be felt in Lando. He was more subdued, gently but sincerely smiling, and his eyes shone with such happiness that you could envy him.

The stream had been going on for about an hour, and the fans didn't run out of questions. They were inundated with the same questions as always, but today they had more opportunity to answer them because they weren't stressed by the background game. Lando kept getting questions about the Championship, the races, the competition and some side silliness. Until Max caught one significant comment among thousands of others. And of course he had to ask them.

Fan comment: "Lando, what brought back that smile? It's been a long time since we've seen you so happy, and of course that's great, but what's your secret?"

Max looks at Lando with a smile and winks. "Good question," he says, leaning back in his chair. "So, man, what's been making you so happy lately?"

"Oh, you know. Life has been better lately. Beautiful weather, sunshine, we have a beach house. The break from racing is good for me too, my head isn't as busy," Lando replied, playing with his hair and smiling under his breath.

Oh how he lied, how he lied to keep his bubble of happiness calm even longer.

"Really? Gee, I guess I agree with that comment, you're somehow happier lately," said Max, glancing at Lando with a teasing look. He remembered well how Lando had talked down his relationship on the stream, but he wasn't going to do the same to him. "Or maybe you've found a hobby other than Formula One?"

"Maybe," he laughed lightly under his breath, feeling the warmth inside his body. "I guess I just got old and I'm not that rebellious 20-year-old anymore "

"Oh, it's definitely old age, you name it" Max laughed and went back to looking for interesting comments, leaving the matter of Lando's happiness. He wanted his friend to still have peace from prying eyes.

After the stream was over, everyone went their separate ways. Some decided to have a bonfire, but Lando felt he needed the solitude. He walked out to the beach, which they had right outside the gate of their cottage, and felt the cooler evening wind brush his face. He smiled under his breath when he saw [Y.N] by the shore. It wasn't a smile that the cameras could see; he reserved this one for her alone.

The girl was wearing a white loose dress that swayed gently in the wind, and her hair was tousled by the wind. It wasn't a moment before she heard him and gently turned toward him, giving him a beautiful smile. "Have you finished the stream yet?"

"It's been a while now," Lando stepped closer, feeling the sand under his feet surround him pleasantly. "I had to get away from the chaos. And the fans are getting curious, they asked what secret I have"

Girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret? What secret?"

Lando smiles mischievously and walks closer. "That I'm the happiest I've been in years." - he says in a quiet but sincere voice.

[Y.N] smiles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Without another word, she steps into his arms, and Lando doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. They stand there for a moment, just the two of them, the sound of the waves crashing in the background. Lando takes a deep breath and places a kiss on her hair, pulling her even closer to him. It was the peace he had needed for a long time

FIRST CHRISMTAS: [Y.N] Lando and [Y.N] had been together for almost half a year. Their lives were filled with happiness that neither of them had ever experienced before. From the first day, they understood each other like two peas in a pod, and that's how it stayed. That's why she was surprised by how happy Lando was.

The couple in love are together in the kitchen, with the countertop in front of them strewn with flour and other ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. [Y.N] is wearing one of Lando's voluminous sweaters and humming a Christmas carol, pacing next to the countertop. Lando, on the other hand, dressed in his loose Mclaren T-shirt and Christmas pajama pants, is trying to roll out the dough, but it's not going well. His hands are covered in flour and the dough keeps sticking to the rolling pin. Well, it's easier to say that his whole body is covered in flour.

"Do you need help, chef?" - asks [Y.N], leaning against the countertop and looking at him with an amused smile.

Lando raises his gaze, feigning impatience. "It's harder than it looks, sure?" - He laughs, combing his flour-dusted hair with his hand. "I thought baking was supposed to be easy."

"It's easy, you just have some manual problems," the girl laughs and moves to his side, gently taking the rolling pin from his hands. "Here, let me," she says, guiding him to the side. Their fingers brush as she takes over, a soft, tender moment.

"Sure, my baking queen," the boy laughs, looking at her with adoration.

"You could do the icing." the girl says, pointing to the already made gingerbread cookies.

Lando's eyes brighten, his smile widening. "Icing, huh? That's sounds better." He grabs a piping bag and starts filling it, but as he attempts to pipe a simple design, it all goes horribly wrong.

“Lando!” she laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement. The icing has spilled everywhere.

He looks down at his hands, dripping with icing. “Well, that’s not what I had in mind…” He shrugs sheepishly.

“You’re adorable when you try, you know that?” She leans in and wipes a bit of icing from his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.

“And you’re just adorable,” he says, moving closer to her.

Lando’s hands quickly find their place on her waist, and his face is twisted into a genuine big smile. They both giggle, putting the matter of the cookies aside.

“What brought that smile again, huh?” the girl asks, touching his lips, which is also dirty with icing.

“You,” he says simply, and his voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. "It was always you"

For a moment, they both stand in silence, the hum of the Christmas music in the background, the quiet crackling of the small fire in the corner of the livingroom adding to the coziness of the apartment. It’s a peaceful stillness, the kind that only exists between two people who’ve found something real.

A/N: i know it's no nut november and this should be smut but i swear when i had a vision i had to write this. i hope you like it because i won't lie, i fucking love it!

“And if I win?” Lando asked, examining his hand as he sat across the little coffee table, the room illuminated by a few candles and a little lamp on the other side, the curtains drawn as you hummed. Silently, you placed another stack of cards onto the middle of table. 

Lando raised his brow, watching your movements as he lifted a card, putting it back down immediately. “Y/N…you’re dirty,” he said, but the glint of excitement and…lust was evident in his eye, his cheek tinged red with the filthy words written hook that card. 

You looked good, your winter pyjamas slipping and sliding down your body, not hiding much, and god, it had Lando wanting to claw your damn clothes off and push you against the wall, his hands reaching the points that made your toes curl and those pretty little moans-

“Just wanted to spice it up,” you said, batting your eyelashes as Lando rolled his eyes, examining the playing cards in his hand. (PRETEND POKER WORKS LIKE THIS, I’VE NEVER PLAYED). “You’re done, Y/L/N,” Lando smirked, putting down his set.

You scoffed, placing down your own cards - better than his. “Well, look at that, Norris,” you said as his cheeks turned pink, not having expected to lose so early on into the game but hey, you’d both always been competitive, he should’ve expected it.

He was about to reach for a card from the pile, his hand moved away by yours. “That’s not how it works,” you explained, “we have to strip first, and whoever’s naked first loses,” you giggled, “and then we start with the cards,”.

Lando grumbled under his breath, before he smirked, slowly removing his socks. You rolled your eyes, once again, taking your cards and shuffling them, taking out another hand. “Strip, baby,” Lando snickered, placing his down atop yours.

You rolled your eyes at his smugness, removing the bow from the back of your yes. “Oh c’mon, Y/N!” Lando groaned, “that barely counts as clothing!” he whined but you weren’t having it, merely shrugging and taking another hand.

The match was quite fun, from both of you finding ways to remove clothing without losing, until you were in just your bra, pajama bottoms and panties, and Lando was in his joggers only - then it got serious.

“Oh fuck off!” Lando groaned, throwing his cards onto the table as he looked down at his body. “You won,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “How?” you asked, raising a brow, before your cheeks filled with colour.

“Not wearing anything underneath?” you asked, a smirk threatening to form on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes, slowly peeling his joggers down, his thighs flexing as he sat back down, cheeks red and gaze on the floor from the exposure.

“Cute,” you said, unclipping your bra, immediately drawing Lando’s attention back to you, watching as you stripped, in nothing but your panties. “C’mon, pick a card,” you said, chewing on your lip, watching him take a card from the pile labelled ‘Lando’ under a post it note.

Groaning, Lando flipped the card round, showing you the words etched onto it; Get some head for 20 seconds. Oh this was going to be torturous. You giggling, moving between his legs, his thighs pushed apart by your palms, cock already hard.

Just the feeling of your warm breath across his aching member made him almost whimper, his cock twitching as you giggled, taking his member into your mouth, inching him against your warm tongue, the vein throbbing on the underside of his dick.

“Fuck, just like that,” Lando grunted airily, his hand coming to your hair, sliding the strands behind your ear as he bobbed your head. He groaned as you mumbled something ageisnt his length, pointing to the card again, as he squinted.

‘And no touching’. For fucks’ sake. Lando resisted the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, his hand falling form yout hair as he grumbled, almost reluctant to release you. “Fuck,” he choked out once you moved back, his hips bucking for friction.

A string of salvia connected your tongue to his cock as you pulled back, a giggle on your lips, as you moved to your own pile of cards. “Fun, isn’t it?” you giggled, “better than just doing some Monopoloy or whatever,”.

Lando nodded, almost fervently, his cheeks stained red with need and lust, watching the supple skin of your breasts bounce as you moved to reach for a card, his gaze never leaving your damn perfect body.

‘Get choked for 10 seconds’. You pouted, leaning forwards as you huffed. “Nowhere near as fun as yours,” you said, moving your hair from your neck as Lando wrapped his fingers round your neck, applying just enough pressure to hear your pretty moans.

You giggled once he let go, the blood rushing back down from your cheeks, as you sat back down on your heels. “This is about to be the best fucking night of your life,” Lando said, slowly taking his card from the stack.

Your core was throbbing with need, his cock painfully hard against his abdomen, and the proximity of your bodies, right on the other side of the coffee table yet you couldn’t touch…fuck it was getting harder and harder by the second.

“What does it say?” you asked, peeking over his hand as he flicked your cheek, pushing you back as you huffed. “Well, this one’s fun,” eh smirked, flipping it out to show you. ‘Get a handjob for 30 seconds’. Well, Lando looked smug.

“No fair, all of yours are good ones,” you said, your voice almost a whine as Lando snickered. “Yeah, now c’mon, 30 seconds,” he said, bucking his hips into your hand as you rolled your eyes, slowly easing your palm against his shaft.

“They should make these shorter - you look like you’d cum in 10 seconds-,” you giggled, earning a little pinch of your nipple, a squeak coming from your lips. “Watch it,” he said, watching your hand moved up and down his member.

“C’mon baby,” Lando groaned, leaning back and resting his body weight on his arms, his biceps flexing, “both hands, don’t be lazy,”. You hummed, adding your second hand, thumb teasing at his head as he moaned.

“Look at that,” Lando said, his eyes on your hands, dragging up and down his cock, the nails he’d paid for you to get done looking ever-so gorgeous across his thick, tall cock, twitching in your palm, the vein throbbing.

The constant teasing, edging him closer and closer to the edge before the stupid time limit ran out, it was driving him crazy, and he’d make sure you’d pay for it, by pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body. Boy, was he excited.

“God, you fucking…” Lando groaned, throwing his head back as you let go, his cock twitching from the lack of contact, his tip throbbing and leaking with pre-cum as you took your own card, an excited grin on your face.

‘Get fingered for 30 seconds’. Lando scoffed at the words, a smile on his lips. “Only 30?” he raised a brow, “it takes me damn near 30 minutes to stretch you out proper for my cock,”. You blushed, hitting his chest as he slowly moved your thighs apart.

“Just shut up and take it, yeah?” he said, moving your panties to the side, pushing one finger into your tight cunt, your core almost embarrassingly easy to slide into, your juices coating his digit like a damn hose, as he started pumping your core, curling his digit.

“F-Fuck,” you gasped, clinging onto his shoulders as your toes curled, your orgasm somehow already close, edging closer and closer. “Gonna cum in 30 seconds?” Lando snickered - he had ten seconds left.

“Look who’s being a desperate little slut now,” Lando said, pushing his finger knuckle deep inside of you as you mooned, head falling back as your back arched. “F-Fuck you, Lando,” you gasped breathlessly as he pulled his digit out, the sound lewd and wet.

“I’ll fuck you soon, just be patient,” he said, clicking his tongue as you rolled your eyes, cheeks bright red and warm as he pulled a card. “Oh?” he said, his eyes scanning the words - he was having fun, you could tell that much.

‘Wild Card - 30 seconds of whatever you desire’. You groaned, the little smirk on his lips showing exactly what he was thinking. “Get that little mouth here,” he said, pushing your hair back and directing your head down to his throbbing cock.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he said, his hands holding your cheeks as he directed your head up an down, your cheek bulging with his dick, warm tongue lapping at his tip. “Don’t take it out, I know you can do this,” Lando groaned, eyes fluttering closed.

You mumbled against his cock, voice muffled against his shaft as he kept your head moving, eyes watering at the strain, before he finally let you pull back, wiping the salvia from your chin and pressing a soft yet firm kiss to your lips.

“Seems like ‘m gettin’ the better luck in this game,” Lando said, his warm breath splaying across your skin, “one more round and then we can move on,”. You nodded, regaining your breath as Lando brushed your hair from your face.

“Take your card, baby,” he said, pushing your pile towards you as you nodded, sliding one off. ‘He’ll go down on you for 50 seconds’. Lando smirked, impressed, as he pulled you closer to him by your thighs, gripping your supple flesh.

“Lucky you,” he smirked, settling between your legs as you braced for the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive clit - and once again, no matter how many times he’d go down on you, it always felt so much better the next time.

You gasped, moaning as he slid his fingers under the waistband if your panties, snapping it against your skin as he used one hand to hold the material to the side, his tongue licking through your folds, nose pressing against your clit.

“L-Lan…fuck,” you choked out, back falling against the side of the sofa as you gripped his curls, twisting them round your fingers as he groaned, the sound rumbling through your core, your back arching. “Oh my- fuck, Lando,” you moaned, eyes rolling.

His grip on your thighs was near-painful, and he’d definitely leave bruises, but it wasn’t like he cared - he’d purposefully left bruises all over your neck so you some guy who had been ogling you would finally leave off - this was Lando you were talking about.

“Lando, fuck, the-the 50 seconds are up,” you said, looking at the timer on the table, your eyes wide, but he kept on going. You could basically hear his thoughts - ‘fuck the rules’ - as he licked and kissed through your folds, like a man starved.

He’d vowed to make you cum more than once, and he was a man of his word. “Lando, fuck, shit!” you gasped, eyes rolling as his tongue put heavy pressure on your clit, before poking at your entrance, bullying his way into you.

You moaned again, your eyes rolling as he moved back, pushing his middle finger knuckle-deep inside of you, resuming his teasing of your poor clit, tongue lapping up your juices as you squeezed your thighs, legs tightening round his head.

Lando hummed, pushing his free hand between your thigh and his head, giving him some space to breathe as your toes curled, eyes rolling. Your bright cheeks indicated how close you were as he sped up his finger movements.

“Fuck, Lan!” you gasped, body shaking as your orgasm hit like a damn train, your toes curling, legs spasming slightly as you clutched onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he hummed, massaging your thighs.

You whined at the loss of contact as he moved away, still desperate, but he was quick to push you onto the sofa, your body tangled against his as he pulled your panties down, damn near tearing the garment from your body.

“Fuck,” Lando moaned against your body as he took your breath into his mouth, kneading the skin below his lips as you whimpered, eyes fluttering closed, toes curling. Well, games’ night had turned out to be a lot more fun than you’d thought it would be.

“Lando, fuck, I…I need you,” you moaned, his cock pushing against yours thighs, almost like he was trying to get off from just that. He nodded, hands moving feverishly as he pumped himself, aligning his tip with your core.

“Lando, don’t be a tease,” you whined, only to be shut up as he pushed fully in, sheathing his cock inside of you as you moaned, gripping onto his shoulders. “Fuck, that’s it,” Lando said, pressing a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your neck.

“Please, I need you,” you gasped as he hummed, reaching one hand round the front of you to toy with your clit, your head falling onto a sofa cushion as he pulled out, leaving just his head in, before bottoming again.

You moaned again, eyes rolling as he repeated the action, the sound of his cock plunging into your embarrassingly wet heat sending a thrill of pleasure up your spine, along with the pad of his thumb flicking over your slick bundle of nerves.

“Fuckin’ tight, aren’t you?” he groaned, your cunt clenching round his thick member, the vein along the bottom throbbing against your entrance before he started moving properly, his hips snaps against yours almost forcefully.

He fucked half of his length into you, one hand bunching tight into your hair, the other resting on your thigh as he moved, your pussy strangling his cock, your hips moving to try and take all of him, earning yourself a sharp smack on your thigh.

“Behave,” he said warningly, “you ain’t in charge,” he pulled your hair to one side, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse point before sucking a dark, harsh hickey into your skin, his hips pivoting ageing your body as he groaned.

Just when you thought he’d maxed himself out in his pace, he’s go quicker somehow, his hips moving like a jackhammer, the stamina you were god thankful for pushing him to keep up the blistering pace, his cock ravaging your core.

You were dizzy, breathless as he kept filling up your pussy with short, harsh strokes. Heavy grunts and growls accompanied the wet sounds of your sloppy hole getting fucked as he worked himself into a frenzy, your moans turning to squeaks.

His hips were moving to fast, ploughing in and out of you, you were sure you’d have bruises, and the ability to walk would be nothing but a damn myth to you. “You’re my little whore, ain’t ya?” Lando groaned breathlessly as you nodded fervently, eyes rolling.

For the second time today, your core clenched round him as your orgasm flooded through your body, your legs shaking. “Fuck ‘m not finished with you just yet,” Lando said, pulling his cock out as you whined, your body in his arms.

He was quick with his movements, stroking his cock as he pushed you over the coffee table, sliding into your entrance again, your core wet and easy to enter from your orgasms and your need. “Fuck, just like that,” he grunted.

He repeated the same process he’d started with, sliding the base of his dick in and out of you, her moans muffled against the cushion. “It’s so big, Lan,” you said quietly. He started picking up pace, going from rocking to pounding as you cried out, eyes rolling back softly. 

At this rate, he was going to leave a mark. Maybe more than that - there was nothing heard in the room except your moans and whimpers, his groans and the sound of his hips hitting your back. This man, he’d be the death of you. Or, well, your cunt.

His movements were calculated yet messy - rough, hard pumping as your tits jumped up, your eyes rolling back as you moaned, his cock drilling into your body in well-practised ways, knowing exactly where your sensitive g-spot was.

“Lando!” you cried, head falling back as he continued to yank your hair, adding pain to the pleasure. His finger reached back down, toying gently with your body as he continued to overstimulate you, body shaking.

Your third orgasm hit harder, body shaking once more as he held you stable, his cock resting inside of you as his own orgasm came through, cum pooling down your thighs and seeping into your tight core, your pussy pulsing round him.

He pulled out in one swift movement, his hand coming to brush your hair from your face, the room smelling of sweat and sex as he held you, lifting you from the coffee table, your tits bouncing as he did so. “How was that?” he asked softly.

“Intense,” you said truthfully, not even trying to cover it up as he laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, baby,” eh said honestly, “just…cant help myself,” he added as you laughed tiredly, smiling.

-

you softly stroked the light hair on top of baby lola’s head as she laid in your arms, the quiet hum of your tv in the background, and the distant domestic sounds of lando in your en suite readying himself for bed casting a sweet lullaby onto your peaceful state. you were sitting tucked into your bed, rocking lola gently back to sleep after she’d eaten, preparing to transfer her into the bassinet that stood next to you. you didn’t move her just yet, knowing her father would want a few baby cuddles before you both called it a night. 

finn had gone down easy tonight, something that shifted since eleanor was born as he never enjoyed bedtime, but your husband and you joked that he was just as exhausted by her as you two were. and even though the tiredness flooded the house, the adoration and appreciation of your new addition was even stronger. 

finn absolutely loved being a big brother, excitedly shouting out to anyone he could that his baby sister was the best baby in the world. you and lando took that as a parenting win, definitely easing your doubts that he wouldn’t enjoy the shared attention, yet you were raising a patient and well-mannered boy. you were constantly giving him gentle reminders of sharing and kindness, something that he for sure carried with him. 

“she’s not down yet?” lando whispers to you, leaving the bathroom and clicking the light off as he softly climbs into the bed.

“she is,” you respond, “just thought you’d want some lola love before i put her down,” you giggle.

“you know me too well, baby, it’s almost scary,” he replies, reaching over to take the one month old from your hold. 

“me? scary?” you whisper to him in mock offense, “i could never,”

“hmm, what about when i came home that one night so drunk i could barely stand?”

“well i was seven months pregnant with finn and at an emotional high so don’t blame me, blame the hormones,”

“your hormones are off the charts when you’re pregnant,” he chuckles with a light, playful jab to your side. 

“well you act like you’ve got pregnancy hormones when you’re not happy after a race,” you joke back in playful banter. 

“touche, my love, touche,”

“it was a different time when i was pregnant with finn, wasn’t it?” you slowly admit, now leaning on your husband next to you, head tucked onto his shoulder.

“it really was, far different than with lola,” he agrees, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of your head, “quieter for sure,”

“much,” you laugh, “i feel like we were just so young back then,”

“that’s because we were,” he laughs with you, “we were twenty-two and only six months married,”

“and everyone had already told us we were too young to have been married-”

“then we popped out a kid barely a year in,” he swiftly finished your thought with another giggle. 

“i wouldn’t change it for the world,” you sigh, bringing your hand up to caress eleanor’s soft cheek.

“neither would i,” lando sighs, “but i do miss the constant sex,”

“lando!” you quietly scold, gesturing towards the sleeping baby in his arms.

“what? she’s asleep! and i do miss it!” he bites back in defense.

“yeah i guess i do too,” you chuckle, “we used to be like bunnies while we were dating and before finn,”

“do you remember that time at the hotel in brazil? we were freshly engaged and i had done well in quali?”

“how could i forget?”

-

your back was up against the outside of your hotel door, lando assaulting your neck with his lips as his hands kept attempting to retrieve his key.

“baby, just use mine,” you let out in a breathy moan, gesturing to the purse on your shoulder.

“n-no, i’ve got it here somewhere,” he grunts out, letting you go and taking a closer look through his wallet, “ah, here it is,” he holds it up as if its a trophy of its own, swiping it over the lock and pushing you both through.

your lips meet his feverishly, as if they were what you needed to survive, and his own were taking dominance quickly. you both were love drunk on each other, hands repeatedly roaming one another, constantly moving to bring each other closer.

a small but quick tap to your ass signals you to jump, lando catching you with ease as he walks the both of you over to the bed. he lays you down gently, crawling over you with purpose as his lips land back onto your neck.

“fuck, lan,” you let out, wrapping your legs around his waist, eagerly pulling him closer.

“someone’s needy,” he teases, yet complies, rocking his clothed hips over your own in order to settle you just a bit. 

“always for you,” you sigh, causing him to groan and grasp at the bottom of your shirt.

“take this off,” he grunts out in his husky, strong voice, the voice reserved for moments like these. you do as he says, whipping off your shirt in one swift motion, and allowing him to unclasp your bra quickly. 

“your turn,” you tut, pulling on the hem of his own shirt, aiding him in the removal of it. his hands cascade down your body, knowing every crook and crevice like the back of his own hand. he kneads, pushes, and massages each part of your delicate frame, always knowing exactly what makes you tick. 

“fuck, baby,”  you sigh, pushing your chest up into his own.

“ya like that, y/n? like when i touch you like that, baby?”

“fuck, yes, lan,”

-

“that was a night for sure,” lando sighs at the memory, “i had you wrapped around my finger,”

“you did,” you hum, “you still do,” 

“i know i do,”

“don’t let your head get too big baby, remember that night after mclaren’s christmas party?”

“well how could i forget that?” 

-

“shit- y/n, feels so good baby,” lando squeaks out, his hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail as your entire throat closed around his dick. he was sitting on the edge of your bed, you on your knees right in front of him, “don’t stop baby- please, i-i’m close,”

with that you popped your mouth off of him, hearing his whimper at the loss of contact. 

“y/n, baby i was-”

“so close, i know,” you finish for him, climbing up his body, your legs land on either side of his as you bring your dress up to your hips and push your panties to the side, “but tonight, you finish inside of my pussy, not my mouth,” you whisper into his ear.

“fuck, y/n, you’re going to be the death of me,” he swallows deeply and lets out a guttural moan as you begin to push your entrance down onto the tip of his cock. 

“shh, lan,” you kiss his lips, “i’m in control here, remember?”

“yes, baby,” he whimpers out as you continue your journey to the base, reaching around behind you, your fingers find his balls, giving them gentle squeezes as he tries his best not to make a sound. 

“good job, lan,” you whisper, kissing his neck as you watch him squeeze his eyes shut, “nuh uh,” you tsk, “eyes on me, baby,” his eyes open swiftly, bloodshot and hungry as he watches you bounce, his release coming quickly.

“i-i’m gonna cum,”

“not yet, lan, you can hold it for me,”

“i-i c-can’t,”

“you can, baby, you can,”

-

“shit, that was amazing, y/n,” lando laughed as you both recounted the night.

“it was,” you laughed with him, reaching over to take lola out of his arms and place her into the bassinet, “we’ve had plenty of fantastic nights like that,”

“such as making this one,” lando nods over to little eleanor, as you crawl back into his embrace, “now that was a good night,” he emphasizes as his hands roam down to your hips, pulling you into him tighter as you both get comfortable in bed.

“that was an unforgettable night,”

-

“thanks, mate, again for letting him sleepover tonight,” lando says to max fewtrell, nodding down to little finn and his suitcase - who was jumping with excitement to spend a night with his godfather.

“of course, mate, y’know i love the little guy,” he laughs, “plus you and y/n need some time together, you’ve been too uptight recently,”

“oh shut it,” lando laughs off, heading back a few steps to his and yours apartment, across the hall from max’s.

“just don’t be too loud making a second, your first is only a wall away,” he jokes and lando just sticks his tongue out and shuts your apartment door. 

“baby?” lando calls out to you throughout the now quiet home, “finn’s all set over at max’s”

“in here!” you call back to your husband. 

the two of you had planned a special night in, opting for a quiet dinner at your place in order to avoid paparazzi and enjoy the ability to act on the drowning desire you had for each other. as lando stepped into the kitchen, his eyes raked over your body shamelessly, watching you finish plating up the food, “here you are, lan,” you sigh, handing him his fixed plate and nodding towards the table, “fancy a seat?”

“would prefer you on my lap as we eat, my love,” he chuckles out, “you look amazing,” 

you had decided to still dress up, wanting to wear something other than the travel clothes or work clothes that had been adorning your body the past few weeks - needing your own boost of self-confidence in your best dress. 

“thank you, baby,” you waltz over to him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you don’t look too bad yourself,” lando was in an easy white button up and dark trousers, taking your breath away regardless of what he wore - and he felt the same about you. 

“mm, thank you,” his hold was firm on your hips, the one hand that held his plate now had discarded it onto the counter before him and traded it for your waist as he furthered the kiss, “i can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight,” he whispered into your lips, your fingers lacing themselves around his neck.

“maybe we should just skip the dinner,” you hum, continuing to softly kiss your husband, “take ourselves to the bedroom,” lando groans at the thought, but quickly tenses up.

“but, love, you spent all this time on the food-”

“fuck the food,” you cut him off, lips now traveling to his neck, “i want something else for dinner,”

“fuck baby,” he grunts, not a second later you are hoisted up into his hold, the both of you heading back into your bedroom. he lays you onto the bed, fast to remove his shirt as your dress followed a close second on your bedroom floor, “ya make me crazy, y/n,” lando speaks into your neck as he trails his kisses lower, “absolutely mad,”

your moan is the only response able to muster out as his kisses reach the waistband of your panties, his fingers already beginning their dance along your clothed slit.

“already so wet for me, baby,” you feel his hot breath along your body at his words and your back begins to arch off the bed. 

“please, lan,” you whimper out as he continues to stroke and kiss your already squirming body.

“mm, please what baby?” he chooses to tease in return, your panties now off and his lips begin their track down to your sensitive bud.

“please do something, lando,” with that direction from you, his lips are connected to your heat in a split second, your hands grasping at the bedsheets to find some sort of stability, “need you inside me baby,” you whimper out, bucking your hips up into his mouth. 

“but i’m just getting started, love,” lando breathes out before venturing back to your pussy.

“we have all night, lan,” you remind him, softly grabbing at his head as a glistening smirk appears on your husband's face, “all night,” you emphasize, bringing his lips down to your own as his hands work to remove his pants. 

“mm, i love you so much, y/n,” he speaks into your lips, his pants and briefs now flown across the room as his rock hard member is pushing against your inner thigh.

“i love you too, lando, so much,” your breathe out, a hand of yours coming down to stroke him a few times before he aids you in lining up to your entrance.

“ready, love?” he asks gently, hovering over your body as his left hand comes to push some strands of hair away from your face.

“always, baby,” you reply, letting out a deep moan as he pushes into your soft folds and through your entrance. lando moans with you, one of his hands holding himself up while the other reaches to wrap around your neck.

“‘s beautiful,” he grunts out as his pace quickens and he watches your face of pleasure under him. 

“‘s good,” you reply, your hands wrapping around his broad back in an attempt to pull him closer and deeper than he already is. 

“fuck, y/n, ‘m not gonna last long,” he whines out, feeling your own release coming as your walls continue to clench around his cock. 

“me neither,” you moan, your lower tummy getting hot as you try your best to hold on, “we’ve got all night, remember?”

“all night, baby,” lando replies, “ya gonna cum with me, hmm?”

“fuck, lan, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you pant, your nails now beginning to scrape down his back at your need.

“f-fuck, cum with me, y/n,” his pace gets sloppier and his face contorts, letting you know you can let go. you’re a writhing mess underneath him as he grunts in your ear, feeling his seed begin it’s warm travel into your body as your own coats his dick. his body collapses on top of you and you feel his sweet kisses on your neck as you both nurse your comedown. 

-

“i can’t believe max was right about that night,” lando chuckles at the memory and realization.

you laugh with him before replying, “how did he even find out?”

“oh, he did the math,” 

“only fewtrell,” you giggle with your husband, bodies tangled together and beautiful memories replaying in both of your minds. if anyone doubted your love, even after two little pieces of evidence had crawled their way out of your body, you would tell them about these nights. the nights where everything and everyone was quiet - except you two. tangled in cozy sheets, making each other relentlessly laugh, and soft kisses proving your adoration for the other. 

“how about a recreation of that night, baby?” lando nudges his nose against your face, silently asking for a kiss, and you comply with ease. your lips mold together as they were made for each other - and part of you believes they were - as his hands trail down and around your body. 

your own hands begin to make their way up his neck and to his hair, soft tugs to indicate just how good he always made you feel. his own gentle squeezes to your ass are his own indication and praise to your work. just as lando rolls to be on top of you, a quick pitter patter of tiny feet down the hall and towards your door alert the both of you that company would be arriving.

your husband drops one last kiss down to your lips with a small eye roll and a quiet, “i really miss the constant sex,” before he makes his way over to the door, opening it to find finn at his feet, “and what are you doing here, mister?”

“can’t sweep, dada,” finn says with a yawn, while rubbing his eyes as he looks up at his father.

“c’mere,” lando sighs, picking up the small boy and bringing him over to you, “just for tonight, bubs,”

“you said that last night,” you remind your husband with a giggle, pulling finn into your hold under the blankets as he proceeds to get comfortable. 

“whatever,” lando lets out in a playful groan, wrapping his arms around you and finn. 

even though you both did miss the constant sex, you wouldn’t trade this for the world. going to sleep on a peaceful night, with your two babies snug right in your arms.

“Lando! Lando!” you heard coming from a few feet away. You turned to see P running up to Lando with a sheet of stickers in hand. 

You were hanging out with Lando’s mom in the Mclaren hospitality and were standing outside and chatting with Lando before he had to get to the car. 

“P! What ya doin?” Lando greets her. 

The girl is smiley as she starts to converse with Lan. You watch as the two interact, the girl's mom standing behind a pillar nearby and resting a hand on her belly. 

You watch as P asks Lando to bend down to her level so she could whisper something, “Do you want a sticker? They’re lucky.” the girl beams. 

“Lucky stickers?! Are they real? I thought they were super rare. How’d you get a hold of them?” 

“Magic.” she giggled. 

“Oh, well then I must have one then, yeah? So that I can beat Maxie today?”

“Well, not that much luck.”

“Ah, well then.” Lando couldn’t help but laugh a bit. No matter how much she loved Lando, P was very loyal to Max. 

“Which sticker would you like?” P asked Lando, displaying the sticker sheet in front of him so he could get a decent view of them. 

Lan takes a moment to really think about it and scan the remaining sticker on the sheet before making the final decision, “I would like this one, please.” he said, pointing to the design of a redbull can. 

“No, you can’t have that one. You can have this one.” P says as she peels a long sticker off the sheet. It was a design of one of the red bull cars, maybe Lando could use it as motivation to beat them and win the constructors. God knew they needed a bit of magic, from a red bull sticker. 

“Yeah, sure. I like that one too, I guess.” Lando dramatically sighs. 

“Dramatic. Where do you want the sticker?” P asks, looking up at Lando. 

“Hmm, why don’t we put it right here over my wrist. That way it’s easy for me to see.” 

P puts all her focus in putting the sticker on Lando’s wrist carefully and precisely. 

When she was pleased with the placement of the sticker, she took a step back and smiled at her work. Lando looked at the sticker and gave P a high-five, “Way to go tiger. Long may you roar.”

But, of course, he couldn’t leave before P could get her hug from him. She immediately ran into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Lando was one of Penelope’s favorite people and it showed. She was always excited to see him and hangout with him. She even cheered him on during races from time to time. 

While P and Lando hugged, Lando’s mom went in to hug him as well but it seemed as if the little girl wanted to be the last one to get a Lando hug before he set off. She subtly tried pushing his mom away with her foot which was quite cute and funny. P really did enjoy having Lando around. The two had sort of watched each other grow and Lando was always a constant figure in her life. 

Watching him with P and other kids sort of settled a debate that you’d had with yourself in your head. When you and Lando had started dating, you talked about potentially having kids in the future. You both wanted to have that conversation early on so that it wouldn’t become a problem later down the line. 

You were both pleased when you learned that neither of you had a set decision on whether you wanted kids in the future or not. It was sort of in the middle, you wouldn’t mind having kids, but it wasn’t something you’d always imagined or dreamed of. If it came down to it, you wouldn’t mind having kids or not having them. 

It was also a matter of who it was with. You both wanted to have kids with the right person. And now, after all this time, you think if you were to have kids with anyone, it would be Lan. You wouldn’t want to have a family with anyone else. 

You knew you wanted all of it with him. Watching dragonflies fly above your heads, having favorite spots on swing sets. There was never any room for regrets in your dreams and now you know that Lando is a part of all your dreams, and that you would never regret anything with him. 

The time will arrive for settling down and having a family with him, but for now, the both of you will learn to grow and be curious about life. 

Before Lando started his trek to the garage, he went to you to give you a quick hug and kiss. He smiled at you, eyes twinkling in the shining sun. Nowadays, it’s not often you see him this happy. 

“You look happy.” you tell him. 

“I got a sticker from P. That’s like the biggest approval you can get from a kid, ya know.” he joked, “Alright, I really have to go now. I’ll see you after.”