VER-LEC-PIA

“So it was all a lie?” Emma gapes at you from over her wine glass, aghast at what you’d just told her. 

Swirling the wine around in your own glass, you nod slowly, “It was all fake from beginning to end. Magui wouldn’t leave him alone and I joked about hiring a Swedish model to pretend to be his girlfriend for a while and it just kind of spiraled from there.” 

There were plastic containers of salmon rolls and spicy tuna crispy rice scattered on your coffee table, the soy sauce packets pooling in a messy pile in one of the lids next to a bottle of near-empty merlot. It was not long after you’d walked away from Lando and that devastatingly quiet hotel room in Spain. At first, you’d tried to handle the aftermath of what had happened by yourself, not wanting to bring any of your friends into it. 

You were still nervous about people finding out it was fake and going to the press. There was one exception to your concerns though: Emma. She’d been in your corner so many times, you had felt guilty telling her the lie from the start. 

The moment she’d answered your call earlier that evening, your voice still hoarse from the crying you’d done over the last 24 hours, she’d dropped everything, picked up sushi and wine, and had been at your flat without a second thought. 

Now, she was curled up on the opposite end of your sofa, wide eyed as she listened to you spill all of the secrets you’d been keeping since you’d agreed to the disaster of a PR stunt back in Miami. 

“So the kiss after his win? All of the very public PDA? The Instagram posts and comments…” Emma lists, incredulous. She was holding her wine glass halfway to her lips like she was too stunned to move. “All if it was fake? To throw Magui off the scent and get her to leave him alone?” 

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “None of it was real.” 

Emma watches you for a moment, her eyes narrowed as if she’s trying to put together a puzzle that’s got her confused. Tilting her head to the side, she frowns at you, “Okay, so if it was all fake, then what’s the problem?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Leaning forward, Emma places her empty wine glass onto the coffee table before she turns back to you. There’s a ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You called me crying, babe! You don’t cry, ever! I think I can count on one single hand the amount of times I’ve seen you cry and 3 of them happened when you had to retake that calculus class in uni —” 

“That syllabus was too advanced for a calc one class!” You protest. 

Emma rolls her eyes and continues, “If it was all fake, why do you look like a five year old who just learned Santa isn’t real?” 

Your chest aches, confronted by a question you didn’t want to say out loud. “I’m just exhausted.” You lie. “The constant travel, having to have that perfect, camera ready mask in place at all times, his crash —” 

“You’re in love with him.” 

Emma wasn’t asking a question.

It was a simple observation made by one of your closest friends, someone who knew you inside out and could read you like a book. You don’t know why you’d bothered hiding the truth from her, pretending that you didn’t have feelings for Lando in front of Emma was never going to work. 

Maybe you hadn’t intended on lying to her. 

Maybe you had needed someone to call you out because you were too afraid to face the truth yourself. 

“Yeah.” You say softly, choking on the single word that feels raw and broken. You set your glass down before you could spill it, your hands are shaking so bad, and pull your knees up to your chest, burying your face against your legs. “Yeah, I am. I am completely, hopelessly in too deep with him, Em. Which is exactly what we didn’t want to happen. This wasn’t supposed to ruin us.”  

Emma’s expression softens as she reaches over to stroke her hand over your hair. Before she can reply, you force yourself to sit up straight, blinking back the hot tears that threatened to spill over. You swipe at your eyes, shaking your head. 

“It doesn’t matter though.” You continue quickly, forcing your voice to be calmer than you can possibly feel, that defensive wall sliding back into place in a matter of seconds. “It literally doesn’t matter. Lando never felt the same way. This was just pretend for him, a way to get Magui to back off. None of it was real and I was stupid enough to fall for the pretense of it all.” 

Emma stays quiet for a long beat, studying the frantic way you’re trying to rationalize your own heartbreak into something that makes sense. Reaching across the sofa, she gently wraps her hand around your wrist before giving it a little tug to get your attention. 

“YN.” She says quietly, waiting until you look at her with watery eyes. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” 

Austria was, objectively, a disaster. Though, not on track. On track, Lando topped the timing sheets for two of the three practice sessions and ended up P2 behind George when all was said and done. He had a good haul of points that brought him closer to the fight for third with the two Ferrari boys so in all honesty, Lando should have been happy with how the weekend had turned out. 

Instead, he was miserable. 

Racing in Austria was the first weekend since Miami that you weren’t around and Lando was distressed to find out how unmoored he felt without you in the paddock. He found himself looking for you in the crowd as he got out of the car, caught himself reaching for his phone to text you when an engineering meeting kept him late. By the end of the weekend, he’d spent a stupid amount of time staring at your contact photo in his phone, alternating between talking himself out of calling you and getting angry with how he’d somehow blown whatever it was that had started blooming between you. 

After Austria, Lando flew straight back to London to start prepping for Silverstone. He couldn’t focus on much though, what with everything kept reminding him of you. By the middle of the week, Lando was in a miserable mood that everyone around him noticed, especially Max Fewtrell.  

It was well past midnight and the relentless, rhythmic clicking of the controller was the only sound Lando had made in the last 45 minutes. In the dim light of Max's living room, he sat on the couch taking out his aggression on whatever unsuspecting opponent tried to virtually kill him.

The glowing light of the TV casts sharp shadows across Lando’s exhausted face as Max slid his gaze over to his best friend. On the screen, his Call of Duty character runs blindly into a sniper’s line of sight for the fourth time in a row, resulting in another immediate, violent death. 

“Fucks sake!” Lando snaps, tossing the controller onto the coffee table in front of him with enough force that it goes bouncing across the smooth surface. Sitting back, he aggressively shoves his hands through his curls, his jaw so tight he was starting to get a migraine. 

Beside him, Max slowly lowers his own controller before turning his head to gape at his best friend. He’d been putting up with this exact behavior for the last two hours and he was ready to snap.

Lando had arrived at his flat under the pretense of ‘blowing off some steam before the madness of Silverstone started’ but instead, he’d brought a suffocatingly broody cloud of misery into the apartment with him. He was snappy, his reaction time was abysmal and he was being a complete asshole to anyone who joined the game. 

“Okay, seriously. You’ve been a miserable bastard since you walked through the door.” Max asks, completely abandoning the game. He shifts on the sofa, crossing his arms as he glares at Lando. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Lando doesn’t look at him, reaching for his water bottle on the coffee table instead. “I’m not a miserable bastard. I’m tired. Between the crash in Spain, then Austria and now with Silverstone coming up, this season is sucking the life out of me.” 

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. You’ve had worse seasons before and you’ve never acted like this.” Max calls his bluff, knowing that there’s something else lurking underneath the surface with Lando. “Did you and YN have a fight? Because I swear to God if you fuck it up with her so bad that she quits, I am going to sue you for emotional distress.”  

Clearly, Max had noticed how you hadn't been around since Spain, choosing to work from home instead of coming into the office. You’d missed Austria too, which was strange since you had told him you had planned on going to all of the European races just a few weeks ago. It wasn’t like you to go MIA for so long. 

The mention of your name has Lando’s chest seizing so painfully, he rubs at his sternum with the heel of his hand. 

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He groans, burying his face in his palms. 

He’d been tied together with a flimsy piece of string since Spain and it was all unraveling right in front of his eyes. The weight of the last few weeks were finally catching up to him and being so close to you but not having any reason to see you was short-circuiting his brain. 

“It was all fake.” 

Max blinks at him, mouth dropping open. “I’m really hoping I misheard you because I swear you just said ‘it was all fake.’” 

Lando looks up and for a moment and Max is caught off guard with how utterly wrecked his best friend looks.

“That’s exactly what I said. The entire thing was fake. We…” He pauses, shaking his head, “I came up with the idea in Miami after Magui showed up as a way to get her off of my back. She was trying to get back with me by any means necessary and I didn’t think I had any other choice.” 

For several very long, agonizing seconds, Max just stares. Then, he lets out a loud, incredulous laugh. “You’re fucking kidding me. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” 

“I’m not joking!” Lando snaps, looking at Max with a defensive sort of panic in his eyes that has Max snapping his mouth shut. “We thought that if we convinced Magui that I had moved on that she would leave me alone. YN insisted on rules and then the lines got blurry and…” He shakes his head, not really knowing exactly where it all went off the rails. “I don’t know when it happened but somewhere along the line, I fell for her. Hard.” 

Max shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What the hell happened then? If you fell for her, why are you so miserable?” 

“Remember that stream before Spain where she was in my lap the whole time?” 

Max snorts, “How could I forget? I’m still getting TikTok edits of that bloody stream on my FYP.” 

Lando leans back against the sofa, closing his eyes. “Afterwards, I went on and on about how it was going to piss Magui off and how real it was going to make us look.” Max groans. “I was a coward, okay? I didn’t want to admit that I had feelings for her because I didn’t want her to call the whole thing off!” 

“That makes no fucking sense, you knob.” 

Lando stands, throwing his arms out wide, “I know that!” He shouts. “I know that.” He says, repeating himself quieter the second time as he shoves his hands through his curls again. 

Lando starts to pace like a caged animal. 

“And then the crash in Spain happened and she completely lost it when I got back from the med center. I realized I didn’t just have feelings for her, I realized that I am completely in love with her.” He swallows the massive lump of regret that sits in his throat. “But she was already packing her bags. She had already booked a flight back to London without telling me. I just…froze. I didn't know how to tell her it wasn't a game to me anymore without looking like a pathetic idiot. So I just let her walk away and now she thinks I was faking it the entire time.” 

Max stares at him with a completely dumbfounded expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to pick up the controller and throw it straight at Lando’s forehead. Shaking his head, Max stands so he’s eye level with his best friend. 

“You,” Max jabs Lando’s chest with his index finger. “Are an absolute idiot.” 

“Thanks, mate. Really helpful.” Lando grits out, crossing his arms over his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. 

“Oh, shut up." Max barks. “I’ve watched you two the last few months since Miami. I’ve been on streams with you and in meetings. I saw the way she looked at you after you won Monaco, talked to her after your crash in Spain. She was a total mess, Lando. That reaction? That can’t be faked. The way she looked up at you during that stream? Like you’d hung the stars in the sky? Come on mate, you can’t tell me that she’s not totally head over heels for you too. Are you really that blind?” 

Lando stops his pacing, his breath catching in the back of his throat as Max’s words drilled their way through his chest. 

“She’s hurting because you made her think it was a game and she realized in Spain that she was in love with you too.” Max shakes his head as he walks towards the door where Lando’s keys sit abandoned on the entryway table. “She ended things because she got scared and thought that you didn’t have feelings for her.” 

He tosses the set of car keys straight at Lando’s chest, “And here you are sitting in my flat being a broody asshole while she’s less than 15 minutes away in her apartment thinking she’s alone in this.” Max levels a glare so heated, Lando would’ve been burnt to a crisp had looks could set fire to something. 

Lando says nothing. He can’t. 

“God, you’re so fucking dense sometimes! Stop pouting and go tell her the truth, you bloody idiot.” 

The muffled, rhythmic tapping of rain against your apartment windows was the only sound keeping you company at one in the morning. You’d long forgotten to remind Netflix that you were still “watching” whatever trashy reality tv show you’d turned on hours ago, so it had gone mute some time ago. You were sitting on your living room rug, back braced against the foot of the couch as your laptop hummed on the coffee table. 

There were papers spread around you in a chaotic semi-circle of half-organized thoughts and lists, something that only you could understand. You’d spent the last few days after getting back from Spain burying yourself in mountain of work. It was a desperate, pathetic attempt to keep your brain from drifting back to your conversation with Emma earlier in the week. 

Are you absolutely sure that Lando didn’t have feelings for you? 

It was a question that was too uncomfortable for you to sit with because if you were wrong, if you started to think that maybe there was a chance and there wasn’t? You’d be destroyed all over again. You’d spent the entire time since leaving Lando in that hotel room in Spain building up your walls again, perfecting the professional mask that you’d need when you saw him that weekend. There was no way you’d survive another Spain. 

Your eyelids are beginning to droop and you’re contemplating wrapping things up for the night when the jarring, aggressive buzz of your building’s intercom sends your pulse skyrocketing. 

You freeze, staring over your shoulder at the offending intercom as it buzzes to life again. It was pouring rain outside and well past midnight. You weren’t expecting a delivery, not at this hour. Emma was with her boyfriend tonight, your parents at their home in the outskirts of London. 

Leaving the mess you’d made over the last several hours on the floor, you push yourself up and make your way to the intercom that’s still frantically buzzing. 

“Hello?” 

“YN. It’s me. Can you let me up?” Lando’s voice crackles through the speaker, sounding incredibly raw, slightly out of breath, and entirely unraveled. 

Your stomach does a somersault over itself as you stare at the speaker. Without even thinking, you hit the ‘open’ button and within thirty seconds, there’s a heavy, desperate knock echoing against your front door. 

The moment the door swings open, the breath leaves your lungs entirely. 

Lando was standing in the dim hallway looking like he’d run through the storm that was raging outside. He was soaking wet in an oversized black hoodie and dark sweatpants. His hair was a wild, damp disaster from the rain, curls plastered against his forehead at all sorts of odd angles.

It was his face that made your chest ache though. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, shadowed with a deep sort of exhaustion you’d never seen on him before. 

He doesn’t wait for an invitation, doesn’t stay in the hallway waiting for you to find your tongue. Lando steps right across the threshold into your apartment, his presence instantly consuming the small entryway as he brings the scent of rain, the cold air, and his familiar cologne into your space. 

Desperately trying to protect the walls you’ve built, you take a few steps back towards your sofa, ignoring the hurt that flashes in his expression when you move away from him. 

“Lando, what are you doing here?” You stutter, your hands shaking “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?” He chokes on a laugh, shaking his head. “Everything is wrong! I haven't slept in days. I just lie there, staring at empty spot in my bed that's supposed to be yours, trying to figure out how the hell I managed to ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

For a moment, you’re convinced you’ve fallen asleep and this is a dream. There was no way that Lando was actually in your apartment in the middle of the night saying the things that had just come out of his mouth. Your pulse hammers at your throat as you try to understand what was happening. 

“What are you saying, Lando?” You ask, utterly confused. 

Lando takes a step towards you and for once, you don’t shy away. 

“I’m saying that this…” Lando gestures between your body and his, looking at you with wild eyes. The shadows betraying how truly wrecked he’s feeling. “That us being together hasn’t been fake for a really long time and I’m tired of pretending that what happened between us was just a stupid PR stunt that meant nothing to either of us.” 

“But that night in your apartment, after Max’s stream?” Lando’s face crumples but you continue, needing to say what you’ve been ruminating on for weeks now. “You were so excited about how good we were going to look on socials. How much it was going to piss her off and make her realize that you were done with her.” 

Lando shakes his head, taking one more tentative step towards you. You stiffen but don’t move away and he takes that as a win. Reaching out, his hands hover for a moment, as if he’s trying to work up the courage to touch you. After a moment, his hands settle on your hips.

He nearly cries when you don’t shy away from him.

“I lied.” He confesses roughly, the rasp in his voice scratching down your spine. “I was afraid if I told you the truth, you’d end it because we’d agreed on no feelings, we agreed that we didn’t want it to get messy. I just…couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you and if a pretend relationship with you was the only way I'd get to keep you, then I was going to do whatever it took to make sure I didn't lose you before it was time.” 

“Lando…” 

He shakes his head fiercely, one hand coming up to frame your face. “No, please YN. Let me get this out, okay? I’ve been miserable and spinning in circles since I let you walk out that hotel room and I just…I’m not good with words, you know that so can you give me a minute?” 

You nod, the words you’d been prepared to say dying in yoir throat.  

“I’ve been drowning since you left me in that hotel room. When my car hit the wall on Friday and everything went black, I wasn’t thinking about the team or the race or anything else. I was thinking about you. I was terrified that if I didn’t get out of that car in one piece, I’d never get to see you look at me again. I was scared and beyond pissed at myself that I'd almost broken my promise to come back to you in one piece."

“Lando…” You choke out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes hot and sudden as the gravity of what he’s saying crashes over you. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

“I have never meant anything more in my entire life, baby.” He murmurs fiercely, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulls you closer, your bodies touching. “No more lies. No more rules. I want all the strings and all the mess, everything that comes with loving you. I am completely and hopelessly in love with you."

The realization that you didn’t have to protect yourself anymore, that the man you loved was standing in front of you in your apartment, his heart bleeding out in front of you, causes your remaining armor to completely shatter. 

A soft, broken sob falls from your lips as you grasp at the neck of his hoodie, pulling Lando towards you so your noses are almost touching. You're not entirely sure who closes the final gap but when Lando covers his mouth with yours, you feel it all the way down to your toes.

The kiss is explosive. It's fierce and desperate, a collision of lips and teeth and tongue that had been building since he’d knocked on your door. Its not gentle, nothing about you two was gentle or calm. It’s fueled by the lingering trauma of his crash, the agony of the time you’d spent apart, and the overwhelming, intoxicating relief at finally finding your way back to each other. 

Lando lets out a log, jagged groan against your mouth, one hand sliding up your spine to cup the back of your head. His grip on you is so strong, you knew there would be bruises blooming on your skin by the morning. He fists a handful of hair, tugging it so your throat is exposed as he presses his lips down the line of your jaw before sucking at that delicate skin of your neck. 

It felt like he was trying to pour every piece of his soul into your chest. 

When Lando finally pulls back, just a fraction and only to catch his breath, he rests his forehead heavily against yours while your brain tries to catch up to what just happened. Tracing a thumb down your damp cheeks, his ocean eyes drinking in the way you sigh against him.  

“Tell me I’m not the only one. You feel it too, right?” He begs, his voice dropping into that quiet, rumbling tone that he used when you two were sharing a bed. “Please tell me I haven’t completely ruined us.” 

You let out a wet, breathless laugh as your hands slide down over his shoulders to grip at the fabric of his hoodie, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing left in the universe.

"I lost my mind when you went into that wall.” Lando shudders, pulling you closer. “I was so panicked when Will couldn’t get you to respond to him. My first thought was ‘Oh my God, I can’t live without him’ and then I remembered our final rule and I knew I needed to end it, to protect myself.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lando asks roughly. 

You shake your head, “I didn’t want to take the risk if it meant knowing you didn’t feel the same way. It would have ruined me.” 

Lando draws in a deep, shaky breath. “You think I didn’t feel the same way? With the way I kissed you when I won Monaco? The way I drug you into the dark corner of that palace ballroom? You think I wasn’t completely head over heels for you with the way you folded into me at night and how it felt like the most natural thing in the whole world to wake up with you in my arms?”  

The heavy, frantic tension that had dictated every movement since he burst back into your life finally breaks, melting into something deep and entirely soul consuming. Lando reaches for your hands, lacing his fingers with yours as he tugs you towards your sofa. He pulls you down onto his lap, his arms slipping around your middle as he brings you impossibly closer, like he can’t stand if there’s an inch of space between you. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne that mixes with the damp scent of outside. 

“God, you have no idea.” Lando murmurs, his voice exhausted and gravelly. “Every time I had to get into the sim this week, every time Will or Jon tried to talk to me…all I could see was you walking away from me in that hotel. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t sleep. Zak asked me twice if I needed another med check for a concussion or something worse. I almost told him I just needed my fake girlfriend to stop treating me like a stranger and I’d be good.” 

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you bump your nose with his. The last remnants of the heavy knot that had been tied up in your chest since Spain finally comes completely untied. Sliding your hands up his chest before interlocking your fingers behind his neck, you pull him closer to you. 

“You were the one who kept talking about optics, Lan.” You remind him softly, though there’s no heat in the accusation. “You made it pretty clear after that stream that you were thrilled to slap Magui in the face with how successful our fake relationship looked from the outside.” 

Lando’s expression turns panicked in a flash. “I was terrified, YN.” He admits, the confession raw and honest. His fingers dig into your hips as if he was afraid you were going to slip away again. “I was so afraid that if you got even the slightest inkling that I was falling for you, you’d end the entire thing. I couldn’t stomach the thought of not having you around anymore, of not being able to kiss you whenever I wanted and I panicked.” 

He ducks his head, dropping a quick kiss on your temple, his pupils blown wide. “I didn’t care about Magui or what she thought we were doing. I just wanted an excuse to hold you in front of thousands of people and not have to explain why I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.” 

The honesty of his confession strips away the very last dregs of your doubts. You look up at him, this chaotic, brilliant, boyish driver who had completely upended your orderly, professional life, and finally realize that you were entirely past the point of no return. 

“Well,” You whisper, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, “Maybe next time you should let me be in charge of deciding how we’re going to approach the PR strategy, yeah?” 

Lando huffs a quiet laugh, mouthing at the soft, warm spot behind your ear that smells like your perfume.

“That’s one rule I can follow.” He pulls back, looking at you seriously now. “But the others? All of those stupid fucking rules are getting tossed out the window, got it?” 

You close your eyes, nuzzling deeper into his chest as Lando pulls you deeper into his chest. For a moment, you listen to the steady thrum of his heart beneath your ear before you tilt your head back just a touch so you can look at him, “Got it.” 

lando posted!

1,308,208 likes liked by its_yn, emma_fairchild, max_fewtrell and others lando for keeps this time🧡 (tagged: its_yn) emma_fairchild can i like this one million times??? be nice to my wife, @/lando or else i'll come for you >>>its_yn you'd better listen to her babe, emma is scary >>>lando no plans on letting you go anywhere, pretty girl max_fewtrell thank GOD its_yn xox >>>lando love you, bunny 🐰❤️ >>>its_yn omg user002 THE SHADE AT MAGUI I AM LIVING FOR IT >>>user21 omg i can't >>>user556 this is the best day EVER user12 M is never going to show her face around the f1 paddock ever again >>>user216 and thank god for that user005 fave couple everrrr

August, 2026 

The rhythmic crashing of ocean waves swelling against the shore made you feel like you were a light years away from the chaos of your real lives.

You and Lando were spending summer break in Bali where the afternoon heat was thick and golden as it slipped by slow as summertime honey . The sun was in the middle of its slow descent towards the horizon, painting the tropical sky in bruised shades of peach and violet and for the first time in what felt like forever, you and Lando had nothing to do but be present. 

You stir slowly, your face pressed against the soft, sun-warmed skin of Lando’s bare chest. A warm breeze swept across the private beach, rustling the palm fronds overhead as it cooled the light sheen of sweat on your body, sending goosebumps pebbling across your skin. 

You blink your eyes open slowly, taking a slow, deep breath. For a moment, all you can hear is the sound of the ocean accompanied with Lando’s even breathing beneath you and for once, you’re not immediately reaching for your phone to check for any urgent emails or PR emergencies. Gone is that deep-seated anxiety and drive to check to make sure nothing was metaphorically on fire. You're pleasantly surprised that the feeling has been replaced with an overwhelming, heavy sense of peace. 

You were entirely tangled up in Lando, who was still fast asleep next to and beneath you all at once. One of his legs was hooked over your waist, keeping you securely pinned against him in the woven hammock. He was wearing nothing but a pair of swim shorts, his skin bronzed from a week in the tropical sun. His chest rose and fell in a slow, deep rhythm that gave away how completely relaxed he was in a way you rarely saw during the season. 

One of his arms was looped tightly around your waist, his hand resting flat against your hip, fingers tucked beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms. His other hand was loosely tangled in your hair, fingers resting against your scalp like he was afraid to let you go even in his sleep. 

Waking up from a post-swim nap in his arms had become your absolute favorite routine of summer break. One that you were going to sorely missed once you both had to go back to the real world. 

A soft smiled pulls at your lips as you shift just an inch, reaching to trace a gentle line down the center of his chest with one finger.

It was entirely surreal to think back to that stormy night in London a few months ago. It felt like it had been a lifetime since you had spent your life hiding behind rigid rules, terrified of loving the man you found yourself tangled up in now, the very thing that now felt as natural as breathing. 

The small movement had Lando’s grip on your hip tightening. He lets out a soft, low rumble in the back of his throat as his eyelids flutter open to reveal those brilliant, ocean-colored eyes you adore, a sleepy and content expression finding its way across his face as he fully wakes. 

“Hi.”  He whispers, his voice thick and deep from sleep, the rough rasp of it scratching pleasantly against your skin. He doesn’t even blink against the bright evening light, just immediately ducks his head to press a kiss, warm and lazy, to your temple. “You’re awake.” 

“Not for long.” You murmur, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him with wide eyes. “You were dead to the world. I think you were snoring a bit, actually.” 

“Liars get left on the beach.” He teases, huffing a quiet laugh as he gently fists a handful of your hair to tug your head back just enough so he could look into your eyes. The playful moment melts away in a fraction of a second, quickly replaced by Lando looking at you with an expression so intensely soft and steady it made your heart flutter. "How long do we have until we have to go back to reality?” 

“Another full week.” You remind him, grin splitting your face as he brushes his lips against your forehead. “No emails. No engineering meetings. Just us.” 

Lando lets out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders sinking deeper into the hammock as he pulls you up his body until your lips were just inches away form his. Reaching up with his thumb, he gently traces the line of your lower lips before you take the finger between your lips, biting down softly with a heated expression that has his hips rolling against you.

“Good.” He says, pupils blown wide as he drinks in the sight of your sun-flushed face. “Because I don’t ever want to take this for granted. I know how terrified you were a few months ago. I didn’t make things easy for us at the start.” He pauses, fingers smoothing over your cheekbone as he looks at you with a softer expression, something that looks a lot like deep, all consuming devotion. “Thank you. For taking a chance on us. For not running when I acted like a fucking fool and almost put an end to us before we really got started.” 

Your heart melts completely, a soft, sincere smile tugging at your lips as you lean into his palm. “Best risk I’ve ever taken.” 

“I love you.” Lando murmurs, the words tumbling form his chest with such absolute certainty, your chest aches "So much it’s insane. I am entirely hopeless without you.” 

“I love you too, baby.” You reply, lacing your fingers behind his neck so you can pull him down that final inch. 

Lando smiles against your mouth as he captures your it in a slow, lingering kiss that sets your skin on fire. It tastes like salt and sunshine, a steady sort of confidence that you’d never experienced before. He holds you impossibly close as the waves crash on the shore nearby, the golden tropical sun setting on the horizon, leaving you both exactly where you were always meant to be: together. 

its_yn posted!

1,398,218 likes liked by lando, emma_fairchild, mclaren and others its_yn out of office 🧡 lando we're never leaving. someone send an email to @/zakbrownCEO that i quit >>>zakbrownCEO absolutely not, i expect you back at the MTC on time >>>lando you're no fun boss user94 what a dreamy life >>>user441 seriously. so envious

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