🕷

Your mom always said you were an adrenaline junkie; when you told her you were accepted into the fire academy for the paramedic path at the age of 20, she just chuckled and said: “That’s my girl”. 

When you told her you were promoted to paramedic in charge at a station known for its rescues, she almost threw a party. 

You were in the middle of taking nightly inventory of your ambulance when the trucks pulled in, the smell of soot lingering as the garage doors descended behind them and twelve brute men began to file out, boots thudding against the garage pavement followed by the routine shedding of their fire gear. 

You can usually tell how a call went based on the body language of your truck boys; a helpful tool you have acquired from spending hundreds of hours with them. It was calm, almost as if everything was soon to click into place. 

The last pair of boots hit the ground, and the door to the passenger side slams as Lieutenant Lando Norris hops from his seat in the front. Freshly promoted and smiling as if he didn't just help a family of four out of a small kitchen fire. 

Lando transferred to the station around the same time as you. Eyes full of light and his curls just barely peeking through a backwards baseball cap. The two of you have grown close over the years, watching as firemen pass through, some cracking under the weight of the job, and some moving on to other things completely. You have gone through almost 5 partners yourself, the one thing that has remained consistent was Lando. 

The day he was promoted to lieutenant, you were the first to congratulate him, throwing your arms around him as the rest of the station applauded their fellow fireman's well-deserved promotion. Overwhelmed with emotions, he held you tight as you whispered praise in his ear, about how this was a long time coming. 

Somewhere between then and now, you realized you saw him more than a friend. The spark you felt when his hands brushed yours during meals pushed to the forefront of your mind. Hours spent analyzing every freckle on his face, as if you could solve him like a puzzle, yet every time you got close enough, the sparkle in his ocean eyes pulled you away from focus. 

You tried to fight your crush, but he made it so hard; After every call, he’d offer to make you a grilled cheese because you mentioned it was your favourite meal growing up. 

A knock on the metal exterior of the ambulance shook you back to the present. Lando stood below you in the garage, his face slightly char stained but smile still warm. 

“Hey,“ you greeted, “how was the call?” Abandoning your clipboard, you invite him into the shop. 

He took a step inside, running a hand through his curls as he sat across from you. “Good, uh–“ He looked nervous, but you couldn’t place why. “Just a small grease fire, no major injuries or damage, quick in and out.” He listed as if, instead of casually talking to you, he was speaking with captain Zac Brown. 

“Why do you sound upset about this?” 

“I’m not,” his voice squeaked at the end of his sentence. He was lying. You squint at him, “Lando, you’re picking your fingers like you did when Zac called on you in roll call. What's up?” You push, hoping he’ll crack. 

He sits on his hands, chuckling through a breath before he answers you. “Fewtrell is having a barbecue at the end of shift, he wanted me to invite you and Lily.” 

Ah yes, you should’ve known Fewtrell and Piastri had sent him to do their errands. Max Fewtrell and Oscar Piastri were Lando's closest mates on shift, the three grew up on the same street and now neighboured just down the road from where you and your roommate (also known as Oscar's girlfriend) Lily reside. 

“Yeah of course! Is there anything I can bring?” you replied, slightly taken aback this was what he was cautious over. 

He smiles softly shaking his head, “nope, just yourself”

Your stomach seemed to forget you were chatting with lando, and not about to drop into a rollercoaster.

“And Lily, of course. Oscar will kill us if not.” He adds and you suddenly remember you're not supposed to feel like this about your best friend. 

“No, yeah– definitely,” you respond quickly, forcing a laugh to hide the awkwardness that has undoubtedly formed. To try and look busy, you pick up your clipboard, double checking the already triple checked numbers before the familiar sound of the dispatcher crackles through the speakers 

Ambulance 81: person injured, 12,725 champion street  

Your eyes meet his before you stand, coming back to reality, “duty calls,” you quip with a tight-lipped smile. 

He nods, helping you with cleaning before giving you a quick salute, “see you later!” 

You smile before your partner joins you in the passenger seat and you flick on the lights and sirens, following where the job takes you. 

──── ঌ ────

Your shift had ended an hour ago and you were sitting on Lily's bed while she was runway style showing you potential outfits for the barbecue. 

“Oscar will love anything you wear Lily,” you say, after paying no attention to her outfits past the third one she's tried on, after they all became the same pair of jeans with a different top. 

“But what if he doesn't!” She counters, studying her outfit in the mirror. 

You laugh, resuming your scrolling, “he’ll be too busy helping Max and Lando with the grill.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at the mention of the brunette, “speaking of,” she teases, “have you told him how you're feeling?”

You scrunch your face, “no, of course not.”

She scoffs, flicking a chip at you. “He’s not going to know you like him if you only look at him with those puppy dog eyes.” 

You fall back into her duvet with a sigh. You knew this. But you also knew the other factors of a firehouse relationship; the teasing when you walk into a room together, the looming fear that if Captain Brown were to find out you’d both lose your jobs. 

“It just wont work, Lils.” 

She throws a pair of jean shorts on top of you, “not with that attitude it won’t,” she declares, “now put these on, they make your ass look good.” 

You smile gratefully and change, opting to pair the light wash shorts with a grey tank top and a pink striped button up. You were doing your makeup when Lily's phone chimed. 

“It's from Oscar, he and Lando are on their way back with drinks and offered to pick us up,” she reads, waiting for you to finish carefully applying your lip combo. 

You pretended to think about it for a moment before turning in your chair to look at your roommate, “yeah of course, I’ll just grab the chips from the pantry, they said not to bring anything but I’d feel bad if we show up empty handed.” 

The girl let out what you think was a squeal and began frantically typing on her phone, shortly after it chimed again. “They’ll be here in ten!” 

It wasn't long before the boys turned up, music blasting from their shared Mercedes like they were fratboys, not firefighters. Lando rolled his window down as you and Lily approached the vehicle.

“Somebody order an uber XL?” He jokes, adjusting his cap that was sat atop his chocolate curls. Oscar was in the driver's seat, eyes fixated on Lily– you made a mental note to applaud her ability to read her boyfriend later. 

“You're in my seat, Norris!” she shouts, opening the door from the outside with a playful jab of her thumb over her shoulder while you make your way to the backseat. “Out!”

Lando makes no argument as he joins you in the back, eyeing the chip bag in your hand and shooting you a wink before clapping Oscar's shoulder from behind, making the boy flinch slightly. He laughs and merges back into the road.

Fewtrell was already running the grill like a navy general when the four of you arrived. Pietra, his lovely wife who you’ve become quite close with over the years, welcomes you with open arms. 

“Please, somebody assist this mad man.” She sighs when Max can be heard shouting in frustration from the back patio. 

You join Lando in making your way to the deck, finding other firefights from your shift including Max, Carlos, and a younger one named Ollie, who was a recent addition to Truck. 

While Lando takes Max's side and assesses the burgers you are sure are close to burning, you take a seat in a foldable chair next to Ollie. 

“So Ollie, how are you enjoying your first months at the station?” You question, curious about the new boys thoughts on your tight-knit family 

He shrugs, taking a swig from his drink. “It's been nice, good city, with great people,” his eyes down your body and rise back up towards your face, a smirk painting over his own, “you know any good places to eat ‘round here?” He smoothly asks. 

You know where this is going, new firefighters often will flirt with the paramedics since nine times out of ten they are women, but you never liked to entertain them since your heart was currently occupied by a certain curly haired lieutenant. 

Lando’s neck snaps towards you when he hears the question come from Ollie’s mouth. If looks could kill, the boy would’ve been six feet under. His scowl audible while Max’s complaints about the grill not cooking fast enough falls on deaf ears. 

“Dude!” The older man forced Lando to pull his ice filled gaze away from you, “I think I’m low on propane. Can you grab me two from the shed?” When Lando groans, Max continues to flip his burgers. “Take y/n with you, she knows where they are,” he offers over his shoulder. 

At the faint mention of your name, your attention shifts towards the grill. Lando's eyes meet yours from across the patio, motioning you to join him. You politely excuse yourself from Ollie, the boy holding his drink up in mock cheers to send you off. 

The tension is thick when you join the boys at the grill. You assumed that Max was fussing about the hotdog to burger ratio, but were surprised to see Lando's shoulders to be up by his ears. 

Max explains the propane situation and you happily agree to assist Lando, since one summer ago you and Pietra needed propane for a wine night firepit, you’ve become an expert in navigating the Fewtrell shed. 

The two of you enter the small structure, Lando immediately taking in all the karting equipment that's resided here for years, Pietras told you. A small kid-sized kart with blue and fluorescent yellow accents propped on a rig, wheels surrounding the floor below it. 

Your eyes follow the wall, pictures of boys with flushed cheeks and sweaty hair, arms thrown around each other in race suits, an identical set of smiles etched on both their faces. When you look closer, it's almost impossible not to recognize the set of boys. 

Your fingers tap the picture lightly,  “This you?” You look to the boy who's been occupied with the pedals on the kart. He turns to look over your shoulder, the heat radiating off of his body. You can feel his breath against your ear when he points to the smaller boy in the middle. “Me,” he points to the boy on his left, “Max,” to his right, “Oscar.” 

Your heart squeezes, looking at the boy who once considered himself a racer and now races towards flames before they swallow a structure whole. 

In a way, firefighting is similar to racing– the calculation before every move, the fear of one slip causing it all to go wrong– these boys risked their safety on track the same way they do whenever they run into a burning building. 

“You seemed pretty cozy with the new guy,” Lando says hesitantly, like he's unsure if it came out formed as a joke or ammunition. Your eyes meet his back as he fiddles with a spare part. 

Something in your mind told you that this was the proof you needed, that maybe Lily was right and you should just confess right there and then.

But another quiet voice, the one that always wins against the logical part of your brain, was telling you to stop daydreaming. And so, you shrug, "He seemed nice enough. Why? You jealous?” 

He whips around to face you, brows knit and eyes wide. “What? psheesh–- no!” He says, too quickly for your heart to slow down, "I'm just saying, he's new and probably just looking to get laid or something,” he shrugs, twisting the small trinket between his fingers, trying to act like this doesn't bother him as much as it does. 

Your heart is racing, but you stay composed, crossing your arms before squinting at him. He doesn't get to act this way and get away with it. “Why do you care?” 

He scoffs, eyes falling to the part in his hand, “I don't." 

You hum, unconvinced. “Alright, then maybe I’ll go out with him, then.” 

Lando drops the part and before the loud clang can fully hit your ears he’s in front of you, his face mere inches from yours, so close you can draw constellations between his freckles. 

His eyes stare firmly into yours as you meet his gaze with terrifying confidence. His hands are planted on the table behind you, caging you in. “You're not gonna do that” he says low, his pupils dilating, absorbing the watercolour irises. 

You tilt your chin up, not backing down. “Well why not, Norris." 

His eyes flicker between yours, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes,exhaling as he contemplates. You lean in slightly, the space between you becoming thinner with every second. 

You’re starting to lose your faux confidence, eyes falling to his lips when his tongue darts out to wet them. 

The energy between you could light a match, charged with unspoken words and feelings. You could feel his breath on your face, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Do it,” you whisper into the silence of the shed.

He waits about one second before his lips crash into yours. The outside world starts shrinking into the confines of the karting shed, just the two of you, moving in unison. 

The kiss was everything you’d hoped it would be, soft but firm, gentle but hungry; Years of pining evident in the way his lips moved against you, his tongue licking yours as the kiss deepened, hands finding your waist while yours tangled between his curls. 

You pull apart for air, his forehead falling to rest against yours, breath heavy as you both realize what just happened. Your eyes dart all over the shed, out of embarrassment, or maybe fear, but once you look back up at the curly mess of a man before you, you realise his eyes never left yours. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he says, a little out of breath yet still grinning. You find that hard to believe, “really?” you ask. He nods, “since the first day I walked in and saw you sitting in the ambo bay.” 

Your breath catches before you kiss him again, holding his cheeks in your hands. “I've wanted that for ages, Lan,” you say into his lips. 

He connects your lips again, kissing you until you're dizzy and breathless. You're not sure how long you were hiding in the shed, which made you want to stay there even longer. You felt like two secondary schoolers, hiding and kissing like it’s forbidden, but with him you didn’t seem to care. 

And when Oscar notices the slight flush to both of your faces when you finally return with two full propane tanks, he doesn't say anything and hands you a drink.  

──── ঌ ────

It’s been a week since the Fewtrells, when Oscar finds Lando furiously typing on his laptop for a report on the stereotypical cat-in-the-tree rescue from yesterday. He's propped against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest as he watches Lando let out another sigh when the system freezes. 

“Y’know, you could just talk to her,” he deadpans. 

Lando doesn’t look up; if he does, Oscar will see how exhausted he looks, and he’ll know something is up.

The past week has been hell for Lando. The truck needs a new spare tire, a rookie on the rescue squad just quit, and now you're avoiding him like the plague. 

Since the kiss, you’ve hardly spoken to Lando unless the job required you to and he was going insane. Everytime he closed his eyes, he was back in the shed with you, his furious gaze meeting your soft one. Even while you gave him a hard time, he still found your eyes mesmerizing.

 Most importantly, however, he missed his friend. The friend he spent downtime with in between calls and sat next to at dinner. All because he couldn't keep his feelings in check. “I don’t need to talk to her,” he lies quickly. 

“You’ve been hiding in your quarters like the old man up the street we tell the kids not to trick or treat at,” Oscar replies, seeing right through him. 

The curly-haired boy falls back against his chair, letting out a long exhale through his nose and tilting his head back to study the ceiling; there’s still a paper dart from when you took April Fools' Day far too seriously. “Ever since the barbecue, it’s been awkward.” 

Oscar raised a brow “How so?”  

Lando squeezes his eyes shut, physically bracing for the outcome of what he's about to say. “We kissed in the shed.” 

Oscar, the little fucker, just smiles before saying in the most neutral tone humanly possible, “I know” 

Now that makes Lando look at him, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. “What do you mean, I know?” He responds in slight disbelief. 

“I'm not blind, Lando,” the man just shrugs, “when you came back wearing the same smile as the day you got promoted, it wasn't hard to put two and two together, mate.” 

Lando huffs, rubbing his temple to soothe the headache that's forming from the racing of his thoughts. “I don't know, mate, we both know how firehouse relationships work.” He sighs, “what if it doesn't work out?” he adds quieter. 

Oscar listens, being an open ear to Lando as he voices his thoughts. It's been like this since their racing days. When Lando had a tricky time correcting a corner, Oscar would listen as they ate pizza and Lando spoke his thoughts aloud, only adding his input when he felt it was needed. 

“You would never know unless you talked to her,” he simply says before he's gone and Lando is left alone in his quarters. Later, he's in the kitchen heating up leftover pasta from the first watch. The boys are scattered as it's been a quiet day already, a call here and there for small situations. 

You, however, Lando feels like he's hardly seen all shift. And when he did see you, you've barely sat long enough for him to catch you.

It's like the universe is dangling this conversation in front of him on a stick, but just as he gets close enough to grab it, the shrill ring of someone in distress rips you away from him. 

He sat on the couch, overalls bunching into his lap as he's crosslegged in front of the TV, scarfing down some food. 

The news anchor on the screen blurred in the back of his mind as he played a game you downloaded on his phone years ago, focusing on beating that level, when suddenly, the atmosphere on the small television shifted- something was wrong. 

Lando straightened up and set down his game, watching as the bold text on the screen informed the viewers of a motor vehicle accident that caught a child in the crossfire. They explained that the young girl was thrown from her car and knocked unconscious; her condition unknown when responders arrived. 

That's when it struck him, like a loud screech in the back of his mind. 

Wasn't your last call an unconscious minor? 

He waits anxiously for more coverage, waiting to see if he can spot you or your ambulance on scene. “Fuck…” He mumbles to himself as the clips keep rolling, showing more and more angles of the devastating accident. It doesn't look good. 

He knew you loved kids; he’s met your nieces and nephews. The way your face lit up when they spoke nonsense to you about their favourite paw patrol character. Lando knew your heart couldn't handle this going sideways. 

Just when he thinks it was a coincidence– that maybe somewhere a mother mistook their kid having a nap and you were begrudgingly filling out paperwork– your ambulance is shown screeching to a halt and out jump you and your partner, rushing to the little girl's aid.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees as he watches on. Lando is holding his breath while on-screen you is effortlessly hooking up the monitor, inserting an IV, things he has watched you do over a thousand times, yet feels that this time it weighs heavier– maybe because he hasn’t talked to you, or maybe because you’d barely look at him at the station– he still felt your heart breaking through the screen. 

What the camera almost fails to pick up is the light shake in your hands– something you told Lando during a late-night shift– that only rarely happens when your emotions are hitting you at an overwhelming rate. He saw you squeeze your fingers together to try and make it stop, but the news anchor moved on before the camera could catch it. 

He sat in silence as the coverage shifted to something much lighter, but Lando couldn't shake the memory of the look on your face, the pure devastation written across your features. 

Max had joined him now, sitting next to him in silence as they waited for your return. The firehouse felt still, like a puzzle piece was missing to function properly. 

While waiting, Zac found him– the man shaking an authoritative chill down Lando's spine as he mentioned he'd taken the truck and ambulance out of service for a few hours. 

The sympathetic look on his face told Lando the reason why. Not that he was complaining; he wanted to be there for you when you came home, regardless of whatever avoidance competition you two were competing in. 

What felt like hours was actually half until the familiar sound of the garage doors opening filled his ears. Lando didn't move, not wanting to crowd you; he stayed planted on the couch until he heard the sound of your boots frantically thud past the common room and down the hallway. Your partner entered shortly after, her posture heavy with the events of today. Lando stood, cautious with his words. 

“How is the kid?” he asked slowly. 

She just sighed, deflating into the chair beneath her, “I'm not sure if she’ll make it, she arrested again on the way to the hospital–” 

Lando didn't even let her finish before he was moving. He followed the direction you went, walking with the same urgency he has when the bell goes off. His head is storming with a hurricane of thoughts, but his sole focus is to find you. 

After checking everywhere he thought was possible to hide out in, he ended up at the laundry machines, a dead end of the hallway. Right as he turned to begin checking the rooms he just stormed past, he heard a sniffle come from an adjacent door. He threw the door open, and his heart plummeted at the scene before him, 

You were sitting on a small cot in a room that he forgot existed and was slightly shocked you knew about. Your knees were pulled to your chest, tears were streaming down your cheeks. The sobs were heartbreaking as you could barely catch your breath. 

“Hey, hey–, I'm here,” he whispers as he wraps his arms firmly around you, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other rubbing small circles on your back. “I’ve got you, it's okay” 

As the sobs wracked through your body, he never let go. He held you while you cried, gripping his uniform like a lifeline. His chin rested on your head as he rocked you both slightly, reassuring you that he was here; that he was your rock and despite any distance, he was unmoving. 

“She was so small,” your wobbly voice spoke through the tears, “she didn't deserve this.” A new wave of sobs shook your body.

Lando just held on tighter, his heart hurting at the state you were in,“you did everything you could, love,” he comforted, “what happened was not your fault.” He kept talking, reassuring you of your efforts while you cried. His fingers combed through your hair as he spoke softly. 

Your breathing slowed, the height of it had passed but your tears still fell silently. Lando moved to have you rest your head on his chest while he continued to rub your back, placing kisses to the crown of your head every time a hiccup escaped you. 

“I just wish there was something else I could've done,” you murmured, picking at the hem of your sleeve. Lando took your face in his hands. “Look at me,” he said, not firm, but stern enough to get your attention. 

Your crystallized eyes met his, his face laced with concern. His hands cradled you like you were the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. “What happened today was not a result of your work,” he assured, wiping a stray tear that escaped. He continued, “you are a brilliant paramedic, and you know you did everything humanly possible to help that girl.” 

Your eyes poured into his as he spoke, his hands cupping your face like they were made to do just that. He leaned down to be directly in your eyeline, making sure you were here with him. 

“I need you to know that you know that, baby,” he said, the last word fell quieter, but the butterflies in your stomach still fluttered awake as you nodded in his hands. 

He gave a hum of acknowledgement before pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You're too beautiful to cry,” he mumbles, more to himself, but you heard it nonetheless. Your eyes flick to his lips; he inhales like he knows what's about to happen. He doesn't stop you from leaning in and slotting your lips against his. 

The kiss is soft, slow like a Sunday morning; blooming between you like spring after a harsh winter. The kind that says I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. 

This kiss felt different than your first one in the shed, this kiss felt real, grounding, like coming up for fresh air after the waves pushed you under for too long. 

You pulled away to catch a breath, lacing your fingers together. You look at Lando, his uniform is ruffled, his lips are puffy and pink, and he looks a little dazed, but he's wearing the brightest smile you've ever seen. 

“Sorry– wait,” you chuckle, taking your thumb to wipe the remnants of your lip gloss that had smudged onto his face in the heat of the moment. 

He brushes your hand away “No, leave it,” he simply states, “it's fine.” 

You're sure that if it wasn't for him holding you up, you would've melted right then and there. You laugh and tap the end of his nose instead, the emotions of today shifting to become much lighter, “you like me,” you tease, drawing the words out to make him playfully scoff before pulling you against his chest and throwing you both against the cot so he lies beneath you. 

Your giggles fill the room as he pretends to deny his feelings, but the fact that you can count all 32 of his teeth tells you otherwise. 

You stay like that for a while, lying in each other's presence as the station continues to move outside of this room you have found yourselves in. You can feel his heartbeat beneath you, it begins to pick up slightly before he speaks. “I don't want to rush things, but I really like you,” he says, vulnerable, like he's been keeping it in for long enough he didn't know how it would sound coming from his mouth. 

You rest your chin on his chest, your gaze meeting him as he stills– waiting for you to respond to the question he convinced himself for years would bring rejection. 

The smile that etches onto your face tells him he was wrong in the best way possible.

“I’ve been gone for you since the day you made lieutenant and the first person you looked at was me,” you whisper and the words sit between you for a second, hanging like a declaration, in so many ways they were. 

He remembered that day like it was yesterday, the words Zac spoke proudly died in his ears instantly when you came into view. 

You lace your fingers with his, running your fingers along the ridges of his knuckles, “but we also work together, Lan.” 

He sucks in a breath, fingers tightening around yours like he never wants to let go. “Then let's go slow, we can do whatever you want,” he says softly, allowing the ball to be fully in your court. 

“I want to go slow, no labels,” you decide, he nods agreeing with you. “And we can't tell anybody here, if Zac finds out, we’re cooked.” He looks at you like that one was obvious. 

“M’kay, deal.” He says before hooking his hand behind your neck and pulling you in for another kiss. You could definitely get used to this. 

──── ঌ ────

And so began your surreptitious relationship. Stolen moments across shifts have been what get you both through the hard days. 

There was the time where Truck had a bad call, a miscommunication during a barbeque gone rogue ending in a flashover and a father in the hospital overnight for smoke inhalation. He came back with a storm cloud over his head, slamming cabinets like they were his enemy until you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to your new favourite spot in the city, the closet by the laundry room. 

You never said anything, just let him vent his frustration until he came back down to Earth. Until he was calm enough to face his men and not come close to punching one in the face. 

Then there was the time he had you pinned down on that same cot he held you while you sobbed, though these were sobs of pleasure that he was pulling from you as he ate you out. 

His tongue worked magic on your pussy while one hand splayed across your stomach, holding you down as you squirmed, grinding against his face. 

“Give it to me baby,” he groaned into your folds, slick coating his face as he slipped a finger inside, “gotta be quiet though– the boys’ll hear you.” 

You feel your stomach tightening, his tongue flattening across your clit, drinking everything you had to give him. 

“Lan, I’m–” you breathed, the hand in his hair gripping harder as you climbed higher, and higher, Lando being ready to catch you once you fell into pure bliss. 

Your high detonates and you hold a hand over your mouth to stay quiet, Lando, the smug bastard continues to lick you as you ride out your orgasm. Placing kisses up your stomach until he reaches your face, pecking your lips before he plops down next to you with a smirk on his face. 

“That was– wow,” you say, still catching your breath as you roll over to straddle his lap. His hands gripping the skin of your ass as you begin to grind down on the evident bulge in his pants. “Now it's your turn,” you murmur, a mischievous look on your face.

Your mouth finds the sweet spot under his ear, making him gasp. “Ooohhh fuck– baby,” your hands find his belt undoing it and pulling his pants down his knees, leaving him in nothing but his grey calvin klein boxers that leave little to your imagination; a small wet spot already forming. 

Just as you slip your hand in, teasing the waistband while you suckle at the base of his neck. 

The bell goes off. 

Ambulance 81, person in distress, 5524 beach street. 

You both freeze, Lando hides his face in your shoulder, a groan escaping him as you back away to put your clothes back on. “Nooo” he whines as you button your pants, “don’t go,” the pout on his face makes you actually consider rerouting this call. 

You giggle, lacing up your shoes before placing a quick peck to his lips and turning towards the door. “I’ll see you later, Norris,” you say before opening the door. 

“This is evil!” He shouts as you walk towards the apparatus floor with a smile. 

Back in the room, Lando was cheesing far too hard for a man who just got practically edged by his girl. 

There was also the time you almost got caught. 

You were in his lieutenant quarters, he's kissing down your neck; his hands are everywhere as you tilt your chin so he can have more access 

“Lan–” you cut yourself off with a gasp when he mouths the space between your collarbone. “Oscar could come in here any second”

“Who cares?” he mumbles into your neck before pulling away to smash his lips into yours. His tongue licking into your mouth as your hands find his curls; you grab a handful and tug lightly. Not hard, but enough that a small whimper escapes Lando. 

His hands found your ass before he squeezed tightly, pushing himself against you so there wasn’t even a hair between you. You kissed, and kissed, and kissed, you kissed so much you almost forgot where you were. 

Key word, almost.

The knock on his door made you pull apart, the door handle starting to shimmy made Lando shove you in the closet. Lando adjusts his collar, then his pants before he opens the door to find a disgruntled Max Fewtrell on the other side. 

Confused, he takes a look around the room, “why do you look sneaky?” He asks carefully, eyeing lando like a suspect in a police investigation. 

“I don't look sneaky” the boy answers quickly, “you’re the one showing up unannounced.” 

Max waltzes in, plopping himself on the chair that is threateningly close to the closet you are currently hiding in. Lando feels his pulse spike as he takes a seat, but he remains calm. Taking a seat at his desk across from him, “so what's up man, did George need help with those drills?” 

You were in the closet listening to them talk about stuff you frankly didn't understand, the firefighter lingo went out your ears as they sat there for 5 minutes discussing last week's chemistry lab fire that hit the news. 

“You seem happy lately man, something new?” Max inquiries, and Lando sits up straighter in his chair. Playing it extremely cool, blowing air through his lips and shaking his head, "No, man, nothing, I guess,” he pauses, subtly glancing towards the closet, “I guess, some things are clicking into place.” A smile works its way onto his face, unable to hide his happiness. 

Max watches him carefully, and maybe he noticed something, either way he didn't say anything. Just clapped hands with Lando when he stood up,saying a quick, “C’ya out there, mate,” before exiting. 

Lando watches the door latch, waiting for the click before scurrying to open the closet and catching you when your legs fail you from crouching in the small box for so long. 

You look up at him flustered, “Next time, put me under the bed!” You both dissolve into giggles before the bell interrupts. 

And then there was your favourite time, the time that had absolutely nothing to do with the fire station at all. 

It was your day off, you were on your couch in your apartment, grey baggy sweatpants and a navy London FD hoodie swallowing your body. 

Yesterday had been a rough shift, calls stacking up, adding on a run of minimal sleep resulting in your body being utterly exhausted. Sniffles escaping you as your nose runs. Lily left you alone about an hour ago, mentioning some day date with Oscar to a flea market followed by dinner, so this left you to your own devices while you battled the post shift plague. 

Also known as the couch, the tv remote, and 5 episodes of love island to catch up on. 

Your phone buzzed around episode 3, the goofy picture of Lando sticking his tongue at you flashed on your screen as he called you. “Hey you!” you answered, the slight rasp in your voice evident on Lando's end. 

“You sound like a sailor, you okay?” He asks immediately

“Just a post-shift illness, nothing crazy,” you shove a handful of popcorn in your mouth, watching Melanie crash out at a criminally low volume. 

A gasp trickled across the line, “Why didn’t you lead with that!” You hear rustling that sounds awfully close to keys being grabbed, “I’m on my way,” he states.

“No, Lando-” you say, knowing he had plans today, "Don't bail on Max for me, I’ll be fine–” 

“Nope! Already on my way with soup!” He cuts you off, “See you soon, baby!” 

The line goes dead. 

You stare at your now locked phone, the corners of your mouth tilting up at the confidence in his voice. Determined to cancel his plans just to hang out with you while you're ill. 

This boy has you in deep. 

He arrived less than 15 minutes later. You opened the front door to see Lando, looking adorable in black sweatpants with a grey hoodie, topped with a maroon LFD cap that was placed backwards and a paper grocery bag clutched in his hands.

He kissed your lips as you welcomed him in, “You didn't have to come, Lando." He toed his shoes off before making his way in. 

“I can't have you getting sick on me,” he joked as you followed him into the kitchen, he's been here enough times in the past two months to know his way around. 

“Besides,” he wraps his hands around your waist in a hug, “Golf is boring anyways” he says softly before leaning in to kiss you. 

You push him away, not wanting to have him get sick. “Those are words you would never utter even if it got you a pay raise.” 

He pouts, squeezing your hips like if he's not touching you in some way, the entire block will burst into flames. “L’emme be your nurse for the day, you spend so much time taking care of people.” He mutters lowly, “Let someone take care of you for once.” 

Your heart melted at the boy stood in front of you, staring at you like you were his whole world. giving you the puppy dog eyes just so he can care for you. 

It was so hard to say no to him. 

You spent the day wrapped up on the couch watching movies, your limbs entangled with his under a cozy blanket. Lando gave you medicine, attempted to braid your hair when it was in your face, doing anything he could to make sure you were the most comfortable you could possibly be. 

His fingers traced mindless patterns on the skin of your back while the two of you lay together on the sofa. The sun had begun its descent, painting the room in a mosaic of warmth. The sun filtered on his face just right, spotlighting his eyes as they shone a beautiful mix of blue and green. 

He turned to catch you staring, a warm smile forming on his face as he studied your face.

“Hi,” he said softly, his hair slightly ruffled from abandoning his hat hours ago. 

God, you could just stare at him for hours.

You drink him in for a moment, counting the moles that scatter from his forehead to his collarbone and how his curls frame his forehead perfectly to create a halo in the light. He looked angelic, truly. 

Your hands find his curls, running your hands through them in an attempt to tame them. Lando lets out a contemptuous hmm while your nails scratch his scalp perfectly. 

“Hi,” you say smugly, placing kisses across the planes of his cheeks and every ridge of his dimples. 

 “Thank you for being my cute n’ sexy nurse today.” Lando's cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, heat filtering down his neck.  

“Of course,” he says quietly into your shoulder. His breath fanned across your skin. “Anything for you,” he adds with a breath.

There was a deeper meaning somewhere in there, but the sound of a key turning in its lock put a humongous pin in this conversation. 

The door swung open and in walked your roommate and her boyfriend, giggling at something Oscar said. They looked a little drunk, whether that was because of alcohol or just being within proximity of each other, you couldn’t tell. 

They paused in the doorway, eyes falling to you and lando lounging on the couch. 

Oscar hummed, his arms draping around Lily. “Oh, hey, thought you were golfing?” He asked the lieutenant as he walked towards the couch.

Lando didn’t move from his spot underneath you, dapping up Oscar with a crisp clap. “Somebody was deathly ill and needed nurse Norris to rescue her,” he said confidently. 

His eyes flicked to meet yours, sending a wink your way. You laughed at his antics, “um–” you interjected, “I was fine on my own, thank you very much.” 

His smirk only grew, “sure you were, darling?” 

fuck, this guy is good. 

Your cheeks grew warm as you sunk deeper into the cushions beneath you. You hate the effect he has on you sometimes, making you speechless with a flash of a smile. 

As if a lightbulb went off in his head, “crap–,” he looked at his watch, “you’re due for meds.” He mumbles as he moves you gently off him, resting you back on the couch before bolting into the kitchen. 

Oscar and Lily watched, exchanging a knowing look from their place at the other end of the sofa. 

Lando returned with two small pills and a glass of water, handing you the small medication and watching carefully as you washed them down. Lily watched carefully, watching your interactions with the boy. Taking mental notes of the mannerisms she observes that resemble her own with Oscar. 

Lando resumed his position beneath you, holding you close as he turns to the room, smiling so big before he grabs the remote,

“So, football?” 

The four of you spent the rest of the evening talking aimlessly while the tv faded into the background, the sound of boys bickering at the tv filled the apartment as you and Lily gossiped about your neighbors.

Your eyelids began to grow heavy as the clock neared 11:30pm, the feeling of Lando continuing to draw shapes into the skin under your hoodie lulling you into a deep sleep. 

“I think she’s out,” Oscar says, pointing at you while Lily non-subtlety took a picture of the two of you. 

Lando craned his neck to see your face, soft and undeniably asleep. His eyes combed over your face, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks, fluttering slightly as you dream. 

There was something so vulnerable about your sleeping state, making Lando want to hide you from the rest of the world, keep you warm in his arms forever. 

“I'll take her to bed and then I'll head out, you comin’ with, Osc?” He asked as he gently gathered you in his arms. 

Oscar nodded at him as he stood, lifting you bridal style with ease. The blanket draped across you like a dress, your head falling against his shoulder allowing him to feel your breath trickle along his neck. He walked carefully to your bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot and placing you gently down on your mattress. 

As he was tucking you in, you let out a sigh of content and Lando felt the urge to get in bed with you. Instead, he pushed fallen hair from your face, revealing the soft features he was enchanted by. 

He bent down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, holding it before moving to kiss the corner of your mouth, mumbling, “night beautiful,”  before he made his way to the door. 

He looked back before crossing the threshold, every bone in his body wanting him to get in bed with you, to wrap his arms around you while you both slept peacefully. 

But his head told him otherwise, his head let the fear of moving too fast catch up to him, what ifs lingering in the forefront. He wanted you so badly, but couldn’t bear the thought of you risking your career for him.

He knew he loved you, it was that simple. He's known he loved you for a while now. Which is why he won't allow you to risk it all for him. 

So he quietly shut the door and went back to the living room where Oscar awaited with his keys in hand. 

──── ঌ ────

You and Lily found yourselves in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of wine while snacking on some salty nacho chips. Work had kicked both your asses and you were due for a much needed girls night. These were your favourite nights, any night not spent sleeping on a small firehouse cot sandwiched between two snoring men, was something you cherished greatly. 

You just finished retelling a story from yesterday’s shift, explaining the horrible joke Lando said to Oscar before your last call. 

Lily straightens up at the mention of the lieutenant, “speaking of...” she says slowly, the tone of the night changing from lighthearted to something more serious. Lily placed her glass down before speaking again, “You two are good together.” 

Your eyes meet Lily's, your fingers running around the rim of your glass. “Yeah,” you blush, “he's been great.”

The girl raised her brow, “can I ask you something though, babe?” You take a breath, bracing for impact, "are you and Lando official yet?” 

You frown, taken aback, “no– we’re just,” you pause, finding the words “keepin’ it casual y’know, for the firehouse,” you said, words becoming less confident as they blurted from your mouth.. 

Lily paused, sitting up slightly in her chair, pursing her lips while she thought. “Babe, I love you,” she spoke, choosing her words carefully, “but that man is basically your boyfriend.”

You stare at her, recounting moments with Lando from the past month. The time he came over while you were sick, all the mornings he offered to drive you to work, every sandwich he brought you mid-shift because he knew you needed to eat. 

Your shoulders deflated, eyes stinging, “I don't know what we are, Lils,” you murmured, hiding your face in your hands. Lily knew you inside and out, even better than you knew yourself sometimes, and as much as it helps with daily decision-making, this wasn’t helping your situation at all.

“If you can’t see that that man is in love with you, then the paramedics board needs to check your sight before shift,” she says, taking a sip of her wine. 

“Lily, he’s not in love with me.”

Lily took your hand in hers, her eyes are fierce and telling you she's not joking around anymore. “There is no way he took care of you all day last week, carried you to bed and then looked depressed as he had to leave you just because this is casual for him.” 

You absorb her words, the sentences hitting you like a train. Maybe she was right. Maybe the moments you shared were more than casual, but Lando could never and would never allow it to go further, as much as that hurt to acknowledge. Your eyes found your lap, fingers picking at the stem of your glass. “It doesn’t even matter, he’s not going to ask to be my boyfriend.” 

Lily watches you fidget with your glass and practically sees the gears in your brain turn. As stubborn as you were, she knew you’ll get there eventually, she just needs to help you along. 

“Honey, it does matter,” she sighs “it matters, because you want him to be” she adds, gently. 

A pang of sadness echoed in your chest. She was right, you knew she was right; You wanted everything, you wanted dates, you wanted nights spent wrapped in each other's arms before coming into shift together the next morning. You wanted him to love you openly and loudly across the city you both have dedicated nearly a decade to. 

You didn't realize you were crying until the tears blurred your vision, Lily reaching out her hand to wipe them askew. “Talk to him, babe, I can see you want more.” 

She leaves you with your thoughts, alone in the living room as you ponder whether or not Lando wanted you at the same level you wanted him. 

──── ঌ ────

The firehouse was always quiet in the morning, fighters coming in slowly with coffee cups clutched like a lifeline. 

You were waiting for Lando on the cot by the laundry machines. After your talk with Lily, you decided to talk to him. 

You had messaged him to meet you at your spot, saying you wanted to talk. The ticking clock on the wall didn’t lessen your anxiety as its legs reached just past 9:30a.m. 

The door opened quietly before Lando snuck his way in, curls still damp from his shower and a crisp uniform on. You noticed the slight tense in his shoulders, followed by the crease in his forehead he gets when he's stressed. 

“Hey,” he says shortly, taking a seat next to you before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. His eyes looked tired and you began to regret choosing now as the time to bring up your relationship. 

“Morning, everything okay?”  

He sighs, “Zac just dropped a whole stack of reports from last week that admin filed wrong,” he vents, “now I need to go through them all.” 

“Oh, well this can wait then,” you stand to leave, but he grabs your hand, spinning you back around to face him. 

“No,” he breathes, "don't do that. What's on your mind, love?”  

You stare at him, eyes darting across his face to find any excuse to not utter the words you're about to say next. But the steady hold he had on your hand was enough to tell you this was happening now, whether you wanted it to or not. 

“What are we, Lando?” You sigh, shoulders falling. 

The boy blinks, wrinkles forming between his brows, “what do you mean?” 

“I mean us, Lan– what is this?” You say, jutting your hand between the two of you. “Are you planning on being fuck buddies forever?” You add, anger rising in your tone. 

You watch the gears turn in his brain, he tilted his head before scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I thought we were just keeping things casual,” he says, his voice an octave lower than usual. 

You roll your eyes, a scoff escaping your lips before you can shove it down. Taking your hand from his, you cross your arms across your chest. 

“No–” the boy catches your attitude, “you were the one who decided no labels,” he argues, utter confusion written across his face. 

“I said that three months ago, Lando!” you snap, the boy pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled, running a hand down his face before fanning it out in front of him. 

“So what are you saying, you want more now?” he asks, “While zac is breathing down my neck you wanna throw this at him, shall we give him a heart attack while we're at it? Stroke maybe?” he quipped, sarcasm oozing from the anger in his voice. 

You watch him rub his temples, your lip trembling slightly as he sighs, calming his emotions before he speaks. 

“We work together, y/n, this can't be anything more than casual.” He said gently, like he's trying to let you down easy, it broke your heart. 

“Its just easier.”

It was like glass shattering, your chest felt the blow as the words landed. 

“Easier...” you parroted, eyes swimming as Lando slowly realized what he'd implied, his face morphing from frustration into regret. 

You lick your lips, emotion draining from your face while your eyes dart everywhere but him. “You want easier?” you question, Lando shrugs lightly where he stands, his words failing him in fear of making this conversation fly further south.

“I will do you one better,” the coldness in your voice shook him to his core, and as you said the following words, he felt his heart shatter, “it's done.” 

 The boy's eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat. “No– what?” 

“We’re done, Lando, it's done.” you repeated, voice shaking.

His eyes met yours then, both red rimmed and wide before you turned to leave. He steps in front of you blocking the door. “y/n– baby, wait–”

He's cut off by an unpleasant ring sourced from the ceiling. 

Ambulance 81, Truck 81, Squad 4, Engine 81, Structure Fire, 7625 Silverstone Road.

You both freeze, eyes locked on each other as the bell reads out. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as Lando opens the door slowly. 

He looks at you, eyes glassy with unleashed tears of frustration, “this conversation isn't over,” he mutters, low but firm.

“I think it is, Lando,” you respond, brushing past him as you rush to the garage. 

Your partner falls into step beside you, sensing your tension immediately. “You okay?” 

You stare forward. “Can you drive?” 

She says nothing as you hand her the keys and walk to the passenger side, slamming the door as she starts up the lights and sirens. Your ambulance led the train of first responders down the street towards the cloud of smoke gathering in the sky ahead. 

You leaned your head against your hand propped on the window, your mind still reeling from your fight with Lando. You wiped the stray tear that made it past your waterline. 

Three trucks behind you, Lando sat furious.

His silence was thick in the front seat; Max in the driver's seat slightly worried his friend had sung into a seashell and a seawitch stole his voice. This wasn't normal for him. 

Usually he was listing orders, giving everyone a job to do once they land. Leading his team in the race against time. But today, he looked like he’d rather let the stopwatch win. 

Max looks over, finding him starting dead straight at the dash. His fire helmet was held in his hands between his legs. His mind anywhere but the truck.

“You alright, mate?” He shouted over the drilling sound of the siren. 

Lando locked eyes with him, empty and cold. “Yeah, I'm fine.” 

He lied, he knew he shouldn't've. But how can he say 'my semi-girlfriend just broke up with me and now I have to run into a burning building' without causing Max to crash into a telephone pole. 

He just shrugged and looked out the window, shoving the rock in his gut further down. The community needed him, so he needed to shut up and fight a fire. 

He smells the smoke before he sees it. The tinge fills his nose as the truck makes a wide turn onto Silverstone road, he spotted the cloud instantly. The black smoke rose rapidly as civilians crowded the road, watching in horror as the house went up in flames. 

The truck halts to a stop and Lando jumps out, boots hitting the ground with a loud thud before he's shrugging his jacket on. He turns to his crew, Oscar already grabbing air tanks from the side compartment. 

“Mask up boys–” Lando orders, analyzing the flames that are spitting from the first story window. “Gonna be a long one.” he pulls his SCBA over his head, adjusting his balaclava. 

Max eyes the house before turning to Lando, skepticism written across his face. “Are you sure you wanna go in, lieutenant?” he asks, shouting over the roar of glass shattering and wood burning. 

Lando turns to him, “We have to make sure no one's inside,” he turns to his crew, pointing at Oscar and Carlos. “You two, with me on primary search.” 

They take off towards the front door, Lando's step falters when he hears a vehicle door slam shut to his right. He turns to be met with you, staring dead into him. Your eyes narrow, but he can decipher the concern hidden behind your cold gaze. 

He holds your gaze for a moment, before shaking from it, his helmet sliding atop his head.“Oi Fewtrell, you coming or what?” He yells at the man scrubbing his mask on. 

The door busts open with a satisfying boot kick. A gust of wind follows as flames lick up the walls and devour what's left of what, Lando assumes, was a living room. 

The men make their way through the foyer, passing the stairs as the first floor took priority. 

Smoke blackened out their vision as they came through, bracing their hands on the wall for any sense of direction. Carlos takes the lead, guiding the group throughout the first floor. Keeping low as they come into a engulfed hallway. 

“I’ve got one!” He bellows, spotting a body limp on the floor. A teenage boy with arms singed in burns. Carlos puts two fingers to his neck, “He’s got a pulse!” He shouts down the line. 

“You and Piastri take him to the paramedics,” Lando responds, “Fewtrell and I will continue upstairs.” 

The two men drag the young boy out past Lando and Max, reporting on the radio to Chief Brown outside. Lando continued on with Max on his heels, the pair finding their way back to the stairs. His heart was pounding as they made their way up, his gear heavy, weighing down his body. The routine hiss from his air tank whispered in his ears every time he took a breath. 

The second floor wasn’t much better, fire raging in every direction he could see. The flames screamed a warning, angry red as Lando and Max began their search. 

Coming to a closed door, he places his palm backwards against the middle, no immediate heat. Sending a nod to Max, a signal to force entry. 

“Fire department, call out!” He roared out once Max kicked in the door, finding a bedroom wrecked from an attempt to control the fire.

He dropped down, checking under the charred twin bed, nothing; behind the rocking chair, nothing. 

He turned to Max, the man shaking his head. Just when the flames gave them a moment to think, a woman's voice came from the closet. 

“Here!” She screamed out, “we’re in here!” 

They followed her voice, throwing the door open to find a mother and son huddling together under a blanket. Jumping into action, Lando assists the mother up, her wincing once she puts weight on her leg. Lando looks down to see burns, bad ones, covering her lower thigh. The skin seared through to the muscle. 

“We’ve got you guys, we're gonna get you out,” he assures as he takes her arm around his neck, helping her walk through the hallway and down the stairs. Max moves ahead with the boy in his arms, rushing him to paramedics, leaving Lando to take mom to safety. 

They're halfway down the stairs, the sunlight beaming through the smoke as the front door is in sight. But the lady suddenly braces her hand on the railing, halting their step. 

“Wait! My husband is in the kitchen; he went back for our dog!” 

Lando’s brain short circuits, of course there’s a fourth, unidentified victim. Because the universe wants to play with him today. 

“Ma’am, I'm sure he's fine–” he speaks but the lady pushes.

“No you have to find him- I can't live without him.” 

Lando could laugh at the sheer irony. But he doesn't, instead he thinks about what to do next. 

The smoke gathered at the ceiling, they were running out of time. He needed to think. C’mon Lando, think!

Then, like an angel sent from heaven, Oscar appeared through the smoke, breaking it to reveal the exit ahead. “Need some help?” he queried, taking the woman's hand. 

“She says her husband is in the kitchen, did another man come out?” Oscar shakes his head, and Lando curses behind his mask. “Okay, I’m going back, you take mom to ambo–” 

“It might be too late, lieutenant!" Oscar argues, his voice wary as Lando shakes his head. 

“I have to try!” He shouts before he's gone, leaving Oscar and the women standing in the foyer. The firefighter grumbles before taking the victim under his arm, leading her out the door. 

You watch as Oscar carries the woman to an open gurney, allowing you to jump in with an O2 mask, pressing it against her mouth as she gasps from the relief of fresh air. You dress her burns while Oscar stands by his mask hiked up on his face, eyes focused on the front door he just emerged from. 

Chief Brown stood tall on the sidewalk, watching as the fire spoke to him. Black smoke began to roll from the second floor, telling him their time was up. 

“Alright, nobody in or out, this is gonna blow,” he authorizes, turning to count his men. 

Oscar is the first to speak up, “Sir wait–” 

Time slowed down in the seconds he paused. 

“Lando’s still in there.” 

Your heart plummeted, fingers stuttering on the bandages you had just carefully wrapped. You couldn't panic yet, Lando was smart and this woman needed you to be composed.

Even if you were anything but.

Zac grumbles, hiking his radio towards his mouth, “Norris, report” booms through the surrounding radios. 

There's silence for a moment. You held your breath, all eyes watching the burning house.

The crackle came through followed by the frantic voice of Lando Norris. 

“I’ve got a victim down in the kitchen here, chief," he says, grunted and loud, shouting over the flames you imagine that surround him. 

Zac curses under his breath, bringing the radio higher, “Norris, you gotta get out of there right now.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The silence that followed made you stop, panic rising in your chest as Lando failed to respond. You watch, waiting for him to say something, anything on the radio. You took your lip between your teeth, “c’mon lando,” you mumbled to no one.

The world went silent for a moment. The eye of the hurricane, taunting you with the illusion of safety.

Then it erupted. 

There's a deafening clap as the fire flashes, an explosion of flames snapping, shattering any glass that remained. Bystanders screamed in horror as the smoke curled, black and evil like the supervillain had won. 

Oscar took off running, securing his mask before rushing inside. Despite the order of Chief Brown and multiple other firemen. 

“Piastri– Don't!" 

He disappeared into the smoke and your stomach couldn't settle what it was going to be like planning two funerals. 

You stood frozen at the ambulance, your partner taking over the care of two patients while you stood useless. Your ability to move stolen as the entire block stood in silence. 

Your eyes began to well up as the seconds ticked on, water streaming from the fire hydrants as men began to take off their helmets, all efforts to tame this fire abandoned. 

Carlos and Max stood with their hands on head, stress heaving from their bodies as they waited for a sign of life. 

Losing one firefighter was enough. Losing two would be devastating. 

You all waited anxiously, smoke still filing from the front door. Minutes ticking by, still radio silence.

You covered your mouth to muffle a sob, you think of your fight this morning. How small it now feels to have asked to be his when he was being ripped away entirely. 

You shake your head as Zac silently nods to the engine. His signal to ready the water canons, sorrow written across his face as he turns his back to the house. 

Your knees feel weak, you crouch with your head in your hands. Tears freely flowing as they prepare to fry two of your best friends alive. 

The booming voice of max is what draws you back,

“They’re coming out!”

You lift your head to see the smoke part; a man held up by two firefighters emerges, walking towards the ambulances. 

Holy shit they’re alive.

You rush with a gurney, your partner in tow to catch them. You meet them halfway, Lando's mask slightly cracked and his helmet was off centered, but he was standing, breathing here in front of you.

He fell onto your gurney before you –along with Max and Carlos– assist him in shedding his gear, holding an O2 mask to his face, coughs shaking his body as the smoke inhalation takes its toll 

“You’re okay, breathe, Lando, breathe,” you shush, voice as calm as you can make it while he gasps for air. His balaclava is toasted, revealing burns running along his neck. Your heart lodges itself in your throat as you dress them. 

Your partner shouts, taking the lead. “Alright, let's load ‘em up!”

You stay by his side as they roll him towards the ambulance, his hand searching for yours along the side rail. You link your hands instantly, squeezing his fingers tight. 

“I’m here baby, I'm here,” you assure wobbly, the boy lifts his head to look at you, tears filling his eyes in shame. 

“I’m–” he chokes out, "I'm sorry” 

You shake your head, your own tears blurring your vision. “No, Lan– none of that right now.” 

“But I–” He grunts in pain, his grip on your hand strengthening. They load him into the ambulance and you take a seat, wrapping both your hands around his. 

“It's okay,” you whisper, placing a kiss on his fingers. “Let’s just get you to the hospital, okay?” 

The paramedic hangs him an IV, informing you the sedative will kick in soon, his eyes begin to droop and you watch as the pain fades from his eyes, your heart finally beating steady again. 

Lando mumbles incoherently before he's out, his eyes meeting yours before he nods off. “M’kay,” he says, sleepy. 

What you didn't hear, lost in the chaos of sirens and potholes, was a faint “I love you” whispered before the meds pulled him under.

──── ঌ ────

At the hospital, nobody dared to speak. 

Firefighters taking up the waiting room, gear hanging over their chairs as the whole crew sat in silence. 

You were sitting in a plastic waiting room chair that gave no sense of comfort while nurses ran back and forth across the burn unit. 

The silence was deafening, you felt underwater. Sound muffled in your ears as the men around you talked amongst themselves, trying to take their mind off the boy sitting in pain somewhere within these walls.

Oscar was sat to your right, fire jacket still on, soot staining his face from the flashover he dove into to save his lieutenant from becoming a cautionary tale. 

He hasn't spoken since he emerged from the burning house, refusing to leave your side as you watched them roll Lando into the ICU. 

He didn't speak when you took a seat next to him, eyes solely focused on the floor in front of him. 

You’ve seen Lando do this before, replaying every moment of the call before it went wrong, trying to understand what he could've done differently so maybe they wouldn’t have to be sitting in the harsh light of the hospital. 

Your station was no stranger to the burn unit; in fact, you could probably name every nurse and direct anybody towards a functional vending machine, if needed. 

But it was different when you were the one waiting.

It was different when you were the one holding your breath every time a doctor came through those double doors; it felt heavier, it sat with you as the image of Lando's burned, limp body plastered itself behind your eyelids. 

You’ve had men in here before, but none of them held the weight lando did. 

You sat there for almost an hour before a nurse came out, her hair tied back perfectly in her peony pink scrubs. She locked eyes with chief brown, making your stomach drop. 

You stood as she approached; Oscar and Lily–who had recently arrived– rose beside you, everyone waiting anxiously. 

The nurse took a breath before turning towards Zac. “He sustained first-degree burns across his neck and a very small second-degree burn along his left ear, along with heavy smoke inhalation,” she began. You felt sick. “But he's going to be fine, just a few days' rest–” you stopped listening then; he was fine. 

Lando was going to be fine. 

The tears flowed before you could stop them, your breathing stuttered as you sobbed from relief. The world fading as a pair of arms–who you later realized were Oscar’s– pulled you in, holding you tight as his own eyes filled. 

The crew watched as you cried, your body shaking as Oscar held you. The nurse leaned into Zac, her brows knit together. 

“Girlfriend?” she politely asks, pointing. 

Zac tsks his lips, trying to piece together a three month long puzzle that he doesn't even have the reference for.  “Um," the man responds, “I'm not sure.” The nurse just smiles, a nod of understanding as she takes a step towards the group of firemen. 

You lift your head from Oscar's shoulder, eyes while redrimmed and wet, full of hope. 

The nurse stares directly at you when she asks, “do you want to see him?”

Lily held your hand as the crew walked through the hallways, passing hundreds of doors, waiting for Lando to be behind one of them. 

She finally paused near the end of the hallway, stopping in front of a pale beige door.

“He’s a little loopy from the pain meds we gave him, but he's alert and responsive.” She warns as the door opens with a soft click and ten firefighters along with two paramedics file inside. 

The room was spacious, though you and Lily stayed near the door. You weren't sure whether he wanted to see you, granted you weren't sure if you were ready to see him. 

“Heyyy,” his cheery voice fills the room, “there's my people!” 

Laughter fills the room as Lando motions you all to come in, a dopey smile etched across his face.

“Thought we lost ya there, pal!” Max jokes from the end of his bed, slapping his calves lightly. 

Lando just laughs, “it’ll take more than a fire to get rid of me, maxie!” 

The room was lighter, laughter and jokes filling the space. You're still leaning against the door, eyes studying his burns, predicting which will fade with time and which will become a story he tells his grandkids. 

You keep an eye on his monitor, checking his vitals like your triple checking he's alive. 

“Got burned pretty good there, cabron," Carlos says, pointing to his ear. 

Lando just pushes air through his lips, waving his hand in dismissal while he shakes his hand, his curls shaking with him. 

“No– guys,” he drawls, those meds must be amazing, "I'm fine, promise!” He declares sitting up straighter, playing into the bit. You watch his eyes scan the room as the room continues to converse, as if he was searching for someone. 

“He's looking for you,” Lily whispers next to you and you snap your neck towards her. 

You lean further into the wall, slightly hoping it would swallow you whole. You haven't forgotten this morning, and you were unsure if you and Lando stood on solid ground. 

The last thing you wanted was to overwhelm him in a hospital bed, but fate seemed to disagree.

“Alright crew, let's leave your lieutenant to rest.” Zac announces after a while, motioning towards the door. His eyes lock with you. “I'm sure he doesn't need you smelly lot crowding him” he finishes as the crew begin to exit. 

Zac stops in front of you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You're done for today, stay with him,” he says low, your eyes widened before sending him a grateful smile, nodding. Patting your shoulder, he follows the crew out the door. 

The door shuts softly, leaving you and Lando alone. The rhythmic beating of his heart monitors ground you to this moment, drinking him in as he notices your hesitation to come closer. 

He looked so small lying in that hospital bed, his tan skin glowing against the harsh white sheets. His hair askew from nurses adjusting his bandages. You hated it. You hated seeing him in this state. 

It reminded you of how real your job is, how quickly the world can take something you love away. 

He slowly reaches his hand out– his palm facing up– inviting you to take his hand. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, eyes pouring into yours like the only thing that mattered was you. You take a seat in the chair by his bed, placing your hand in his, sighing at the feeling of his fingers between yours. 

You feel yourself choke up, lip wobbling while your eyes swell. “You really scared me,” you say, voice shaking. His thumb rubs soothing circles on your knuckles.

 “I know,” he exhales, turning his head towards the window, looking out over the sunkissed city. “I’m so sorry.” 

The silence was full between you, not awkward– but thick. Waiting for someone to speak, you stayed with your hand in his as he searched for his words. 

When he finally spoke, his voice was small.

“All I could think about,” he murmurs, looking down at his lap, “during those moments, was how I would never see you again.” 

Your eyes rose to meet his, the world fading away to leave just you and him, together. 

“How I would never get to have a life with you,” he continued, his heart picked up. “We’d never get to do everything I planned.” 

You paused, tilting your chin, “what did you have planned?” 

He smiled, thinking for a moment.“I was gonna talk to Zac,” he starts, “y’know, get his blessing,” he adds quickly, you let out a laugh. 

“Then I was gonna take you somewhere special, ask you properly.” 

You listen, digesting his words as he pours his heart to you. Laying himself bare before you, he squeezes your hand three times. 

“I wasn't with you because you were easy,” he said, you feel your stomach twist.  “You make everything lighter,” he utters, tears flowing down both of your cheeks. “Just by being you, your smile, your laugh, that little scrunch of your nose you do when you concentrate,” he confesses, your heart doing somersaults in its chest cavity. 

“You’ve always caught me when I fell, showed me what it was like to be loved.” he states. Your fingers trembling in his hand. 

“What are you saying, Lando?” you sniffle, wiping your tears. 

“I want everything, I want to take you on dates, I want to kiss you in my quarters without having to check if the blinds are drawn,” he lists, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you so much, I can’t hide it anymore” he confesses, and your heart breaks open. You smile, warm and bright as he mirrors your expression, his tooth gap on full display. 

“You love me?” you question quietly, “it would be hard not to” he says, eyes bright and full of hope. 

“I love you, too,” you respond, and he somehow smiles wider, his dimples shifting even higher to meet the crease of his eyes. 

“Yeah?” he asks, sitting up as you nod, tugging your hand slightly. “Can I kiss you now?” his eyes begging you to come closer. 

You hesitate, not wanting to crowd his burns. But he pulls out those puppy dog eyes, pouting his lip and your defence weakens. Heart melting when your lips brush across his in a sweet kiss. 

He pulls you into bed with him, letting you lie on his chest. Careful of his IV and other monitor wires. His chin rests on your hair as he holds you tight. 

“So, no more casual?” you say lightly, and tilt your chin to face him. His eyes are serious before he kisses you deeply. Lips sealing over yours as you sigh into him. 

“There was never anything casual about this,” he mumbles against your lips, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheekbones. 

You smile before returning to your previous position, your head resting just above his heartbeat. A steady thud that brings you back to your stolen moments by the laundry machines. 

And when Zac Brown returns at the end of shift to find you both sound asleep, limbs tangled with one another in the small hospital bed, he doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and quietly retreats out the door. 

﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒

First time writing for Zuko 😬 i hope my Zuko isn't completely out of character (and even if he is, writing fanfiction is just a hobby, it doesn't have to be perfect!) Comments and reblogs are very welcomed!

────୨ৎ────

It's dark in Zuko's room when you enter it. Despite the late morning hour, around nine or ten, he's still in bed – his long, shiny hair scattered across the pillow, a thin blanket covering his long legs, his back muscles standing out more than usual as he lies on his stomach, deeply asleep.

Quietly, not wanting to disturb him, you sit on the edge of his bed. You run your hand along the fair skin of his back, over all the bumps and curves of his spine, exploring.

At this, Zuko's eyes fly open. Pillows muffle his voice as he asks. "Y/N?"

"It's me." You smile even though he can't see it. "Are you tired?"

Zuko hums in agreement. "I stayed up late."

"Doing the fire lord business?" You inquire. Your hand doesn't stop travelling up and down his back. Zuko's muscles relax under your warm, comforting touch.

"Yeah."

As he turns around to lie on his back, the long strands of his hair get in his eyes and he huffs, annoyed.

"Do you want me to braid it for you?" You ask, playing with the strands of his hair for a moment before tucking them behind his ears.

Zuko looks at you for a moment, surprised – you've never offered to help him with his hair and he has never asked for it. Brushing his hair, as well as styling it has always been his job and he has never let anyone help him with it. It is deeply ingrained in his routine and the thought of someone doing his hair, let alone you, makes him feel oddly flustered.

"Would you?" Zuko asks quietly. There's a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Sure." You say softly, urging him to move into a seated position. "Come on, sit up."

Zuko protests for a second before letting himself be pulled up by you. You take a seat behind him. Zuko yawns, stretches out a little, rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

"Give me the hairbrush, please."

Zuko gives you the hairbrush without a word. You pull his hair back and start brushing it, gently and slowly, savouring the intimate, quiet moment with your fiancé.

You can't see it, obviously, but Zuko's eyes are closed and there's this specific blissful expression on his face as you run the brush through his hair, getting rid of all the tangled parts, making it smooth again.

"Did you sleep well?" Zuko asks when the silence between you continues.

You hum. "It was a pretty lonely night for me, you know?"

Zuko sighs heavily. "I'm sorry you had to go to bed alone."

You lean down to plant a quick kiss on his left shoulder. "It doesn't matter. We're together now."

"I'm glad we are."

You put the brush down, divide his hair in three sections and start making a braid. You're doing it with utmost care – you know how much it annoys Zuko when hair get into his eyes, pulling his attention away from whatever he is doing at the moment.

Once you're done, five, maybe ten minutes later – his hair are long, after all, way longer than yours – you grab the nearby handheld mirror and push it into Zuko's hand.

"So? How did i do?" You ask, quite proud of yourself and your work, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Zuko looks at himself, at the long braid resting on his shoulder – his gaze only occasionally moves to the big, red scar over his eye – and sighs.

Your smile fades. "You don't like it."

Zuko shakes his head. "No. It's...nice. It's just...no one has ever done my hair for me."

"It's nice to let people help you sometimes, hm?"

Zuko smiles, just slightly. "I guess it is."

You sit behind him again. Now, you see can both of your faces in the mirror. You kiss his shoulder again, this time the right one.

Goosebumps form on the back of his neck as you whisper. "You look really handsome, Lord Zuko."

Zuko smile grows bigger – it's a really lovely sight to see.

"You look pretty yourself, darling."

"Just pretty?" You tease.

"Beautiful." Zuko glances at you over his shoulder. "Better?"

"Definitely."

────୨ৎ────

Masterlist ☆

My other zuko fics:

▪︎ "I was made to keep your body warm, but I'm cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms"

sokka ~ jealous 24/7 highkey. he's the type of guy who'd spy on you and the person you're talking to. he'd try to subtly hide behind a tree, poking his head out to watch you. or he'd try to hide behind a book—it's upside down, btw—to see what you're doing. "i can't believe it," he'd mutter to his friend zuko, who isn't paying attention at all. "that guy's got nothing on me. he doesn't even look cool."

aang ~ lover boy aang. oh, he's so patient and so kind. he very, very rarely gets jealous. but when he does, he's such a big grump. pouting, brows furrowed, arms crossed, lip caught between his teeth in frustration. he'll try to hold onto his patience for as long as he can, but when he snaps, he'll grab your arm and gently pry you away from the person. "alright, that's enough. you've already had your fun with her. it's my turn."

zuko ~ there's a reason people edit him to this song. he swears he's not the jealous type, but he's literally the most jealous man you've ever met. over the littlest things, too. like if someone looks at you for too long or compliments your dress or your hair. he'll even use his social standing to his advantage just to get what he wants. "as your fire lord, i command you to never make eye contact with my wife again!" it's unreasonable, and he knows it, but fuck. he can't help it.

It was even more so with his mate. She was a natural with them. Gentle and soft and her demeanor strong enough to demand the respect she deserved, yet tender enough for the pups to trust and crave her presence. They followed her around and liked to show her their tricks and toys while she happy observed when she had the time. Babies were some of her favorite though.

Harry couldn’t help but selfishly enjoy the sight. Her fingers playing with the chubby cheeks and tickling the little soft tummy, making the baby giggle with joy. Little pudgy fingers grasped her fingers, which Y/N brought to her own mouth to feign eating them with a comical noise. The pup let out a squeal of comical delight, kicking his little legs at the motion.

“You’re incredible, aren’t you? Strong little wolf.” Harry approached quietly, not a sound made as to not disturb his love or the pup in her grasp. “Yes. You are. So strong and fierce, but you must never forget to have a gentle heart underneath the warrior walls. Okay? Your mate will thank you for it. You are to be kind… generous… sharp as a whip.” The baby gurgled in reply, making Y/N laugh. “Mhm… exactly.” Her finger tapped the little nose, watching it scrunch up. “But you see… your Alpha is trying to pretend he isn’t watching me play with you. It’s very distracting for me.”

Damn. He had been caught. A light chuckle left his chest, arms crossed as he emerged from his shadowy hiding spot and leaned against the tree to look down at the baby. The giggles stopped, a wide eyed look taking over the face- but no discomfort. His little legs kicked again, hand raising up as if to point before looking back at Y/N.

“Yes. That is your alpha. The strongest wolf in all of the lands.” She whispered. “One day you will fight beside him to take care of our pack. Maybe you will have another passion as well!” She squeezed his feet. “But he will make sure you are protected until you can protect yourself. Your father, him, all the pack. You are safe!” She cooed, making Harry’s heart grow a few sizes.

“His mother is looking for him.” He murmured to her, looking at the pup. She was, but Harry was feeling very interested in something else right now. “We are needed inside for a moment, my love. Let’s return him and then we can take care of the issue inside.”

—

Harry’s energy was big today. Y/N had a feeling she knew why he was crowding her space as they walked inside, excitement stinging her spine and warmth flooding her stomach. His hands had held her hips as he shuffled her towards his office, kicking the door shut behind him as his dark eyes took her in. He was hunting her.

“You know what it does to me.” He whispered, pressing her against the front of his desk. “What it calls to when I see you cradling pups that way. When you… lay there and allow me to watch you do the things I’ve been dreaming about for ages.” He dragged his nails over her sides, catching slightly on the material of her long dress. It was a gauzy material, one of his favorites from how it flowed behind her and made her the ethereal vision she always deserved to be admired as- but he was hating any barrier at the moment.

“It’s tradition, Alpha.” She was baiting his wolf,’knowing damn well what she was doing with those soft eyes and gentle voice. Fingers brushing through his long hair and tugging a bit at the little snares it had gotten,’making him growl. “I’m whispering blessings to babies. Shouldn’t that please you?” Her head tilted to the side, her calculating gaze hot and heavy as she leaned back slightly. “I always try to please you.”

“And you do. You do it so well… but I think it should be time that you do that to our pups.” He grunted, fingers bunching up the thin fabric and pulling it up. “You should be full of me, bred properly like the good mate you are. You should show everyone how taken you are, how good you take my cock. Stuff you full of me, my knot, our children….” He pulled the fabric above her hips. “I need it. I’m done waiting.”

He had been patient. They’d played around- but he was tired of waiting. Y/N was too, or she would have stopped him. But she was wet, dripping down her thighs at his words and the walk back. She had been well aware of his gaze and what it meant. He was going to fill her up to the brim with his cum and make it stick this time, and she ached for it.

“Then stop waiting.” Her finger traced his lip, a little gasp escaping as he caught the tip with his teeth and growled. “Take what you want.” Y/N finished the job, pulling the dress over her head and letting it fall before turning from his grasp and bending over the desk. She knew exactly what she was doing- giving him a mounting position and breaking his last straw.

It didn’t take long for her to feel the bare tip of his cock pressing inside of her. A pathetic whine left her throat, gripping the desk as she felt her cunt begin that stretch she loved oh so much. His prick sliding inside of her inch by inch, his hot breath washing over her back as he pressed wet kisses to her shoulder blades. Lettin mg every little bit of his cock fill her up until his balls were rested snug up against her and she began to squirm, a weak thrust up trying to get him to move.

“Stop.” He snarled, biting down on her shoulder in warning. “Lay there and take my cock like the good bitch y’are.” His voice was so deep, so rough, it had her eyes rolling back into her head. The man was everything to her, every little thing he did making her feel even more desperate. “Got to make sure you’re stretched. You’re soaked but it’s so tight…” he ground into her, curling his hand back around her throat as he arched her up.

“Oh my…. Fuck.” Y/N whispered, panting as she felt him pull out to slam back in, making her jolt over the desk. She never tired of the feeling of his cock taking up every bit of space inside of her body. “I love your cock, Alpha. I love it, I need it. Gimme more? Give it.” She tired to push back against him again, her cunt sweet and soft around his aching length. Harry loved being inside of her and feeling how she reacted to him.

“I’m going to give it all to you, you filthy little thing. Teasing me by being so sweet with the little ones… finally need to give me our own. Need to give you some to grow.” He grunted, beginning his brutal pace. He was on a mission to knock her up, to get her full and make it stick inside of her. It was time to start the breeding process and her body reacted beautifully.

Y/N was pliant under her, whimpering and whining as Harry did what he did best. Aggressive and hot, she let him handle her in the way he needed. Every single movement and bite had her floating, submitting to the Alpha the way the gods intended for her to do. His cock was thick and long, curved just right to hit the spot that had her cunt leaking down his balls. The feral sounds filled the office, her nails scratching marks into the priceless desk while he fucked her rough. His growls were against her ear, soaking up each and every noise his mate made as his cock wrecked her.

“There- there, alpha. Please stay right there, it’s gonna make me cum.” She pleaded, working through the squeal she had met out when he has shifted his hips just so. His filthy mouth was the cherry on top of the rough fuck that brought out the animalistic side of them.

“Just lay there and let me fuck you” he panted into her ear, the vibration of his words making her shiver. “You’re such a good little bitch. Laying out and letting your alpha use your hole the way it’s meant to be used.” He nuzzled against her neck thrusting into her at the deep pace she had begged for. It was a nasty mess in the room. Anyone inside the hall could smell it if they walked past, the scent of their sex and desperation clinging to the walls. The sounds were echoing through the room, the grunts and growls and her sloppy cunt being wrecked by his cock, Y/N unable to keep quiet with her little whines.

“My perfect little mate. You were made for me. Made t’have my children. I want to watch you swell with them… taste your breasts when they leak. I want to make you a mother, my love.” He slurred against her neck, feeling the beginnings of his knot. “M’gonna stuff you full of my knot and my load, make it stick. Get you pregnant and bred up for me the way you should stay. Gonna do it over n’over until it takes. I can’t stand it anymore.” He needed to have her pregnant. It didn’t feel like a want but a need.

“Please, alpha. Please breed me, I want it. I want it so bad, I want our babies, I want…” she sobbed out in pleasure and desperation. “Want to feel full. Want you to own me. Please, please- I feel it.” She said frantically. “I feel your knot, give it to me. Give it to me, put it in, knot me. Breed me, Harry.” She snarled, her nails digging into his wrist as he held her throat. He owned her, yes, but she owned him too.

A roar of pleasure hit the room as Harry caved to his mate’s requests. His knot catching and flaring inside to lock them together as she came all over his cock, her body convulsing slightly under him as she sobbed out his name. She was so full, so overwhelmed as she felt his body cover hers and rock inside as the ropes of cum continued to fill her.

“Give it, Harry. Give me all of it.” She whimpered, a tear dragging down her cheek. “Give me all of your cum. I want it to catch. Want your babies inside of me. Give me the pups.”

“It’s there, my love. It’s there. My perfect little breeding bitch.” He sighed, the pleasure still shooting through him as his cum shot into her in its heavy ribbons. Y/N shuddered under him, feeling every single throb of his cock as she was filled. It was one of her favorite feelings and Harry loved to give it to her.

You were never one to sneak around. Nor were you one to be into older men. At least, that was the case until you met Harry. You knew that you shouldn’t have been lusting a man that was substantially older than you, let alone a man who was the father of your best friend. It’s just that neither you nor Harry could help yourselves. 

You and Christine were both in your second year of college when you two met and became instant friends. It didn’t take long for you two to become really close and rock solid in your friendship. Once midterms rolled around, the two of you two were inseparable. And the fact that the two of you were from the same place, and lived there all the way up until you both left for college (which wasn’t that far away) solidified the friendship even more. The two of you even joked that the universe really wanted you guys to be friends. 

But after meeting Harry though, you were starting to think that the universe had other plans. 

She had invited you join her to have dinner at her dads. After knocking down the lame excuse of not wanting to intrude on their father daughter time, she was able to finally convince you to tag along with her. What was the harm in having dinner at her dads house? That was what ran through your mind as you said yes to her. You were expecting to have a nice dinner with her dad, and give him an introduction to the girl who’s been hanging around his daughter. That’s it and nothing more.

To be completely frank and honest, you were expecting to find a middle aged (or close to it) man, who was about average in looks and built, and nice. The only thing you got right was the middle aged and nice part. The rest was the complete opposite of your expectations. When the front door opened, you could’ve sworn that you were met with a god. He was the literal epitome of god loves some of us more than others. You couldn’t believe that he was dad. And even though he was your best friends father, his name followed up by the categorization of dilf was going down in your book. Let’s just say that from the moment you stepped foot into his home, you were salivating; and it wasn’t because of the food. As the time passed, you were paying attention to every word that left his mouth; and every muscle that he involuntarily flexed as he finished getting dinner ready. You even made sure to say little so that he could talk to you more. To make matters worse, Harry was one of the nicest and kindest human beings on the planet. Which meant that your thoughts ranged from him ravishing you to walking down an aisle with him at the end of it. You were a complete mess. 

While you were kicking yourself for lusting after your best friends dad (dilf), Harry was doing the same. Harry was kicking himself left and right for lusting after a young woman who was not only young enough to be his daughter, but who was in fact the best friend of his daughter, and therefore a woman he could never have. From the moment he opened the front door, Harry was gone. It was like you were the opposite end of the magnet that was pulling him towards you. Ever since he and Christines mother divorced years ago, Harry had dated and slept with a good (and very healthy) amount of women. In all of that time, he’d never felt the same feeling he got from simply looking at you. He’d gotten close to it a couple times, but he’d never experienced the jolts of electricity that were firing throughout his entire body and the swelling of his heart as he looked and talked to you at this capacity before.

These feelings weren’t the only feelings you and Harry had in common though. The both of you were also hoping and praying that Christine didn’t have to go to the bathroom and leave you two alone together. But that’s exactly what happened.

“M’gonna run upstairs to the bathroom real quick and you two can talk some more. Just no embarrassing stories from when I was a kid.” She announces as she excuses herself from the table, making sure to clearly direct the last part to her father, causing you to let out a small laugh that was filled with nervousness. You were not only nervous at the thought of being left alone with her father, you were nervous at the thought of being alone with the hottest and nicest man in the world; who just so happened to be your best friends dad. After Harry “surrenders” to her request, she leaves you both in the dining room and heads upstairs.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” You whisper to him from across the table once you two are completely alone.

“And I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” Harry counters simply, dropping his fork and lifting his head to put the entirety of his attention onto you.

“Well you should stop.” You whisper back, looking up from your plate to find Harry’s piercing green eyes staring right back at you.

“And you should do the same.” Harry replies, as slight smirk rising up onto his face in the process; queuing the floodgates between your legs to burst wide open. What makes the gates fall off their hinges is when you feel his sock clad foot rub up against your ankle. Since Harry was a bit older than you, he could easily read into all of your reactions and body language, allowing him to know exactly what buttons to press and how to press them. “Do you mind helping me clear the table Y/n?” He asks abruptly, flipping the topic of conversation from your attraction to each other to the dishes so that you could cool off a bit. He could see how flustered you were by him in that moment so he wanted to give you a little break. 

“I don’t mind Mr. Styles.” You promptly whisper back to him. You were so grateful that the previous conversation was over. He then gives you a little nod and the both of you rise up from the table to collect the nearly empty plates and dishes before bringing them into the kitchen. The two of you then stack them on the counter by the sink before turning to go back into the dining room to collect the rest. Before you could take a good five steps, you’re being pulled back, turned around, and pinned against the kitchen counter. Harry has a hand on your waist and the other is softly nudging your chin up so that you could look at him. And before you know it, after looking into your eyes for confirmation, Harry is lowering his mouth down onto yours. This is what you both had been wanting all night long. You knew that from the outside, his lips were a pretty shade of pink (which is the same shade of pink that may or not paint the head of his cock; you were dying to find out) and they were pillow soft. That was the one of the few things you got right all night long. When his lips met yours, they were the softest and most inviting lips you’d ever felt in your entire life. And the way he was pressed up against you as he kissed you was the best. He was pressed tightly pressed against you and your hands were wound in his hair as your lips moved against each others. The thoughts of how wrong this was were blown out of your minds as soon as your lips touched. As you two continued to kiss, you and Harry began to subtly (not so subtly in actuality) rut against each other. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. Your kiss, movements, moans and touches were brought to an abrupt and quick halt when the both of you hear the footsteps leading down the stairs. The both of you quickly move into less compromising positions and focus in on gathering and washing the dishes. 

Once the dinner is finally over and it’s time for you and Christine to head back home, Harry gives her a big hug and kiss to the cheek and you a more friendly hug to (not be too obvious) and the two of you are on your way. As you two are heading back home, you reach into your coat pockets in search of your phone. As you’re feeling around, you stumble across a small piece of paper. When you pull it out, you try your best to look at it without turning on the light. The only things you can see are an H, a couple numbers, and a semicolon next to a single parenthesis to form a winking face. You were a little bit on the sad side (inside of course; Christine couldn’t find out about anything) because you weren’t leaving with Harry’s number. You already knew that you were going to break into Christines phone to get it, but you were hoping to get it from Harry himself. So knowing that he went out of his way to make sure you had it was really nice.

 And from that night on, the rest was history. 

You were constantly covering up bruises on your thighs and neck, and taking aspirin to numb the throbbing and sore feeling between your legs from the way Harry relentlessly (and deliciously) pounded his cock into you. You weren’t trying to hide your sex life from Christine. You wanted to share, and tell her about the amazing (if there was even a word to describe it) sex you were having but you couldn’t. And for reasons that were and are beyond understandable. The last thing you were going to tell your best friend is that you were getting dicked down by her father. Or that you were in love with him. That was a completely different story though. 

At first, the thought of getting caught terrified you. And only you. Harry was a little scared since his daughter was involved in the grand scheme of things, but his fear was nothing in comparison to yours. In fact, he instigated every situation that heightened the possibility of you two getting caught. One time, he tasked Christine with running to the grocery store to pick something he forgot. It took him less than 30 seconds after you two were completely alone for him to drop what he was doing and pull your pants down. It also took him less than 30 seconds to pull both of you guys’ pants up when he heard her car pulling up into the driveway. As the time went on though, you began to become more comfortable and willing to take risks here and there. You and Harry would always try to sneak some time in whenever you were visiting with Christine. And whenever you and Harry both had some alone or downtime, you’d drive to Harry’s on your own so that you two could spend some time together. Now even though the sex was beyond amazing, you guys’ relationship as a whole grew. The two of you were pretty much in a full fledged relationship (except for the disclosure part of course) and you both were very happy.

Fast forward about six months and everything was beyond perfect. You and Harry’s relationship was great and you two were in your own secret bubble of love and sex. And your best friend/ Harry’s daughter was completely oblivious to it all. Everything was perfect. You and Christine had just finished your sophomore year of college and the two of you were now spending time with your families. You’d been staying with your family for a little and she was doing the same with Harry. After about a week of not seeing each other  (you not seeing Christine…and you not seeing Harry) your felt that it was time for some quality time. And believe it or not, Harry and Christine were on the same page. You’d received two text messages, one from Harry and the other from Christine, begging you to come over. Hers had more of a ‘I miss my best friend vibe’ and Harry’s had more of a ‘I miss your pussy and cuddles’ vibe. So you figured that it was time to pay them both a little visit. Christine also mentioned that you should stay over for the weekend. So packed a little bag and you made sure to pack everything you’d need. Some tight and short clothes, no panties (well maybe just one pair since Harry liked ripping them off of you), two pairs of pajamas, and some toiletries. Once you were dressed and packed for the weekend, you hop into your car and you’re on your way to Harry’s home.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and you’re immediately engulfed in an almost bone crushing hug from your best friend. After a good minuet, you’re finally released from her arms and able to breathe again. She pulls you into the house and as she does, you see Harry rounding the corner into the living room. As soon as you see him, you’re a mess all over again.

“Hey Mr. Styles.” You smile “innocently” to him, giving him a small wave to help your little act out a bit. 

“You know you can call me Harry right?” Harry replies with a smirk as he makes his way over to the couch. As he says this, all the times you were screaming his name (and daddy) as he pounded into you. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. He couldn’t wait until you two were able to get some alone time. 

“Me and my dad were just about to watch a movie and you’re gonna watch it with us.” She interjects, dragging you over to the free couch. 

“Is it the notebook again? Because if it is, then we may need to have an intervention.” You joke, dropping your bag onto the floor and plopping yourself down onto the couch. 

“Don’t blame me! He’s the one who got me hooked on it!” Christine replies, pointing her finger in Harry’s direction. 

“I would’ve never thought that you were into these types of movies.” You ponder, turning your head towards Harry as you kick your shoes off. That was a big fat lie. You knew that Harry was the sappiest man in the world. Whenever you guys weren’t running the risk of getting caught, after sex, the two of you would cuddle and watch a romcom or romance/drama movie. 

“What can I say? I like a good romance.” Harry shrugs, sending you a soft smile. He too was thinking back the romcoms and cuddles you two shared.

“Well lets get it started!” Christine interjects excitedly, pulling both you and Harry from your little moment, and grabbing the remote from the table. You pull the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over the two of you while she starts the movie.

After about an hour, you were a little restless. You loved spending time with your best friend and you wanted to continue watching the movie with her, but you needed a little break. And the idea you had for this little break may or may not have included Harry. 

“I’m gonna take a little trip to the ladies room.” You whisper to Christine as you pull the blanket off of you. When you stand up from the couch, Harry’s eyes leave the tv screen as you walk away. Instead of going straight upstairs, you stand behind the couch you were just sitting on with Christine and you begin “phase one” of your little break.

Instead of just going upstairs and mouthing to him to come with you, you decide to tease him a bit. Get him worked up so that he’d be running to you. While his attention is still on you, you decide to just go for it and lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him. In an instant, Harry’s eyes widen and his cock stirs in his pants. He couldn’t believe what you were doing. He thought he was the one who was doing the absolute most to live on the edge, but what you were doing right now tied you both for the top spot of the wilder one in the relationship. He constantly makes sure that Christine’s eyes are clued to the tv screen and he’s not being too obvious when it came to being distracted while he took in your teasing. He watched as you squeezed your breasts and tweaked your nipples. You decided to do this for a minuet or two before lifting your skirt a little to give him a peek and ultimately tiptoeing upstairs. This left Harry’s cock completely hard, and his mind completely scrambled as he tried to figure out a plausible reason to step away. After about five minuets, he comes up with a good enough reason to step away and meet you. 

“Have t’make a phone call for work. I’ll be right upstairs.” He announces to Christine as he stands from his seat. 

“Alright. But can you tell Y/n to hurry up, she’s gonna miss the best parts.” She asks, diverting his attention 

“Maybe she’s handling something.” Harry replies, alluding to the possibility of you getting your period. All she does is shrug in response to him, prompting Harry to dash upstairs. As soon as he reaches the top of the stairs, he makes a b-line to the bathroom. Where you were waiting with your panties around your ankles. When he pushes the door open, he’s met with you standing at the counter looking into the mirror. Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps into the bathroom. He closes and locks the door before standing right behind you.

“What’s wrong daddy? Did I make you hard?” You ask sweetly, diverting your attention from your reflection to him.

“Did I say that you could speak?” Harry whispers calmly, lifting his foot to kick your legs apart. “You’re playing a very dangerous game. I’m leaning towards the thought that you want to get caught.” Harry continues, gripping onto your hips and yanking you back so that you fall against the counter and your backside is closer to him.

“Maybe.” You hum, moving your hips a little in his grasp.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, flipping up the bottom of your skirt. “Well now’s the perfect time to see if you want to get caught little girl.” Harry continues on, sending a sharp swat to your ass to make sure that you know who’s in control of this situation. “You could either lay there and moan, whimper, and cry like you do when were all by ourselves, or you could lay there and take it quietly like the good girl you’re supposed to be.” Harry offers, removing a hand from one of your hips shoving down his sweatpants and boxers down all at once. “Your choice.” He whispers finally before lining his cock up with your sopping wet entrance and slowly pushing into you. “Such a tight little hole f’me.” Harry moans as he continues to push into you.

 “So big.” You whisper as you feel his cock stretching and filling you. It felt so good to have him inside you again. Once he’s fully inside and you can feel him in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before slightly pulling out of you, just to slam back in. He then continuously slams into you over and over again, grunting and moaning lowly behind you. His cock was constantly pushing at the deepest part of you. He was going so hard that you could feel his balls slapping against your clit over and over again.

“This what you wanted babygirl? Wanted me t’fuck you hard while your best friend is downstairs waiting for you?” He pants, continuing to fuck into you. He missed being inside you. He missed the feeling of your spongy, warm, and wet walls around his cock as he gave you everything he had. And he couldn’t wait to spend the entirety of the following week with you. He’d be able to be inside of you 24/7. That’s where he always wanted to be. 

“Oh my-“ you gasp, feeling his cock dig into your sweet spot. His cock was so good. That was all you could say. The way he masterfully maneuvered his cock in and out of you. He knew exactly how to move and slam into you and make you go numb. He was slamming into you so hard that you could guarantee that your thighs would be sore and bruised. But again, it felt so good. As he continues, Harry yanks you up, keeping the same hard and fast pace from slamming his cock into you.

“Look at yourself baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his hand up your tight shirt to cup your breasts in his hands. “A cock crazed little girl getting pounded by daddy. A pretty, moaning, and crying little mess.” Harry chuckles cynically, looking into the mirror to see your worn out yet pleasured face and your watery eyes. He can hear your moans as you get closer and closer to your release. He wraps his thumbs and forefingers around your perky nipples before bending you both down onto the counter. “Feel your walls squeezin’ me baby. Wanna cum for daddy?” Harry pants behind you, feeling his release nearing as well.

 “Please daddy.” You whimper. That was all you could say. Your release was coming at full speed and it wasn’t going to slow down. It was hot and tight in the pit of your stomach and you were going to explode.

“Cum with daddy baby.” He groans once more, sending one final, sharp and power filled thrust into you, pinning his cock right against your sweet spot.

 At that moment, the both of you let go. Your bottom lip was completely raw at this point, you were trying so hard to hold back your moans the entire time and it was getting harder and harder. It felt so good to cum around him, and to feel him cumming inside of you. You were more than welcoming to the warm and sticky cum painting your walls. As Harry came, he was on the verge of collapse. He was finally emptying himself into you. He let go of everything he had and it was like your walls were milking him for more from the way you were convulsing around him. You were pulsating as you came. 

Once you two are done, he pulls out of you and does his pants back up, leaving you slumped over on the counter. Before leaving, the plucks open the mirrored medicine cabinet in front of him and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He sits it on the counter next to your limp body and just stands behind you to admire the sight. “Might wanna take one, don’t want you to be too sore. Wanna pound into you some more later on.” Harry says nonchalantly. He then brings his hand down to your exposed, sore, and a tiny bit swollen pussy to gather some of his sticky cum that was dripping out. “Might wanna put those panties back on too, don’t want any of m’cum leakin’ out. Want you to be nice and full of it once I empty more of it into you later sweetheart.” Harry continues before bringing his cum covered fingertip to his mouth. He then leans down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and unlocks the bathroom door to walk out, leaving you alone to try your best to put yourself back together. 

────୨ৎ────

There's a jarring, red mark right in the middle of your abdomen, just above your pubis – it's irregular, not especially big, but still clearly visible in the dim light of your shared bedroom.

The sight of it makes Zuko nauseous.

And repulsed.

Because he's the one who has done it to you. He's the one who has scarred your skin forever in a moment of rage and a desire for revenge so big nothing could stop him.

Zuko's left eye twitches. His jaw clenches. A shuddering breath leaves him.

No, he can't do this.

"I changed my mind." He says. These words feel foreign on his tongue – he's not sure if that's exactly what he wanted to say. Or if he wanted to say anything at all. He probably should've have keep his mouth shut. But it's too late to take it back. "I...I don't wanna have sex tonight."

You look at him, dumbfounded.

Here you are, standing in front of him completely bare, offering yourself to him, and out of sudden he has changed his mind?

But you're not mean. You've never been. You would never do anything that could harm him.

"Okay." You murmur, pulling the red robe back on. Zuko sighs with relief, which quite frankly should make you feel offended – but it doesn't, of course.

This is your Zuko. He loves you. He would've never done anything to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

He's not the man he used to be – cruel, ready to do anything to get his honor back and appease his father. That man is long gone.

This Zuko is soft.

Loving. Patient. Kind.

Just yours.

So why, the hell, he doesn't want to have sex with you anymore? When he is the one who has brought it up and prepared everything?

"I think i know why you've changed your mind." You prompt softly. Your place your hand over the mark on your abdomen, hiding it from his view. It feels warm under your fingers, practically burning even though it's not a fresh wound.

Zuko looks away. His Adam's apple moves as he swallows hard – he does it four times, you count.

Silence stretches between you.

When it becomes clear Zuko won't give you any answer, you add. "I've forgiven you, Zuko. A long time ago."

Zuko remains silent. A single tear trials down his left cheek, almost invisible against the red scar around his eye. He hastily wipes it away.

But you notice it. Of course you do.

"Why can't you just forgive yourself? It's been so long–"

"Not for me, Y/N." Zuko cuts you off, frustration audible in his voice. "Everytime i see you naked, I'm reminded by that day. I can see myself summoning the fire, directing it at you...so clearly...i can almost feel the anger i felt that moment. It's horrible."

"Zuko, you've changed. You're not the man you used to be anymore. You're...you."

Zuko looks at you. His eyes are shining with unshed tears, his lips are twitching. He asks. "What does it even mean?"

"You're kind, Zuko. You're caring and patient." You smile softly. "And so much more. You're not who you used to be. You're not your father. You're Zuko. My husband. And Gods help me, if you don't start seeing yourself the way I see you, i'll kick your ass."

Zuko huffs, taken aback. "Yeah, i bet you'd love to do it."

You take a step forward. Then another. Zuko stays rooted in his place, completely still, as he watches you.

One step – that's all it takes to close the distance between you and Zuko.

"Tell me to go away and i will."

Hesitation flickers in Zuko's eyes only for a second. He shakes his head. "No."

His hand comes around your waist, his face rests in the crook of your neck.

His warm breath tickles your ear as he whispers, his tone teasing. "You've been spending too much time with my uncle."

"At least Iroh's wise."

"Touché."

You stay quiet for a moment. Zuko's nose nudges your cheek as his lips trail kisses up and down your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking on your skin, causing blood to resurface and hickeys to form.

His focus on you gives you the perfect opportunity to grab his hand and place it over the red mark on your abdomen.

Zuko gasps, his fingers twitch against your skin, and he wants to retreat as quickly as it is possible, but you don't let him. You hold his hand there, pressing it into the softness of your lower belly, making him feel you, helping him overcome his fear of hurting you again.

"It's okay, Zuko. You're not hurting me."

"...promise?"

"I promise."

Zuko exhales. "I wanna make love to you."

You smile. "What's stopping you?"

Zuko's tugs at your robe. It falls to the floor, exposing your body again. A quiet sigh escapes Zuko's lips. His fingers, long and slender skim over your belly, over the oh so terrifying mark on your skin, before he drops to his knees in front of you.

You weave your fingers into his luscious hair. Zuko looks up at you, all puppy eyed and desperate, with his gaze asking for your permission.

And who you are to deny him?

A quiet gasp leaves your lips as his fingers slowly slip inside you, one after the other.

Oh Lord.

You're in for a long night.

────୨ৎ────

You looked up from your phone.

Not because he said your name.

But because he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not really in Monaco,” he continued, completely unaware that everyone was listening. “I mean, I love Monaco, but I don’t know. I’d want our kids to grow up somewhere quieter.”

Your eyebrows lifted.

“Our kids?”

Lando glanced at you, confused.

“What?”

“You’re already planning children?”

He shrugged, looking at you with genuinely confused look.

“Of course!”

Then he looked back at Max.

“But it depends on what Y/n wants, obviously. It’s not just my decision. Maybe she wants something completely different.”

And somehow, that made it even worse.

Because he wasn’t joking.

He wasn’t trying to sound romantic.

He was genuinely just talking about a future where you were already there.

“Man, I’m so excited to have kids,” he added with a laugh. “Actually, maybe I should retire right now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

Later that night, when you were alone, you finally brought it up.

“Do you realize you do that?”

Lando looked at you.

“Do what?”

“You talk about the future like it’s already guaranteed.”

He frowned slightly.

“I do?”

“Yes. The house. The kids. Marriage. You say things like they’re already happening.”

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“And it isn’t guaranteed?”

You looked at him.

“I mean… yes, I really hope so, but what if we break up?”

The smile disappeared immediately.

“Nope.”

You laughed.

“Nope?”

“Not happening.”

“Lando—”

“I’m never letting you go.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a threat?”

He thought about it for a second.

“Kind of. Yes.”

You laughed.

“I’d lock you in the basement if needed.”

“Lando!”

“What? I’m just saying I have options.”

You shook your head, still laughing.

But secretly?

You loved it.

Because Lando didn’t talk about a future with you because he was trying to convince himself it would happen.

He did it because, in his mind, there was never a version where you weren’t in it.

OSCAR PIASTRI . ˚ Oscar was usually the calm one.

The organized one.

The person who had everything planned before anyone else even realized there was something to plan.

Which was why you were slightly concerned when he was running around the apartment like he had forgotten how leaving the house worked.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes,” you reminded him.

“I know.”

“You’re still not ready.”

“I am ready.”

You looked at him.

He was standing in the middle of the room, looking around like he was trying to remember what humans normally took with them when they left.

You smiled. “Are you sure?”

Oscar ignored that.

“Do you have everything?”

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yes.”

He started counting on his fingers.

“Enough clothes? Shoes?”

“Yes, Oscar.”

“Your charger?”

“Yes.”

“Sunglasses?”

“Yes.”

He pointed at you.

“Good. Because we are not buying you another pair, baby.”

You laughed.

“It happened one time. Don’t be dramatic.”

“A very expensive one time,” he reminded you.

It was the one time you had accidentally lost your only pair of sunglasses in the paddock, and Oscar had insisted on buying you a new pair.

Of course, he then spent the entire day complaining about how much they cost.

You shook your head, amused.

Then you looked at him.

“Okay, but do you have everything?”

Oscar paused.

You immediately noticed.

“Everything you need for a triple header? Passport? Wallet? Team stuff? Everything you need to actually start a race?”

“Yes.”

The answer came too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Oscar.”

“Yes?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

He said it very calmly.

Which somehow made it less convincing.

You watched as he grabbed his bag and started checking through it.

A few seconds later, he stopped.

The silence said everything.

You crossed your arms.

“What?”

Oscar looked up.

“I might have forgotten something.”

You smiled.

“Let me guess.”

He sighed.

“My paddock pass.”

You couldn’t help laughing.

The one thing he actually needed. The one thing that would make starting the weekend slightly difficult. You reached into your own bag and pulled it out.

His eyes widened.

“When did you get that?”

“When you left it on the counter five minutes ago.”

Oscar took it from you, shaking his head.

“You packed it?”

“Yeah.”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“That’s why I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

Because that was Oscar.

He spent so much time making sure you had everything you needed that sometimes he forgot to check if he had everything himself.

And somehow, without either of you realizing it, you had started doing the same for him.

CHARLES LECLERC . ˚ It wasn’t something Charles announced or even seemed aware of.

It was just… something he did.

Every single time you walked together.

The moment you stepped onto the sidewalk, his hand would gently find yours as he guided you to the inside, taking the side closest to the road without saying a word.

The first few times, you assumed it was a coincidence.

Until one afternoon, when you deliberately switched sides.

Not even five seconds later, Charles quietly guided you back.

You looked at him.

“Charles.”

“Hm?”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“You always make me walk on the inside.”

He glanced at where you were standing before looking back at you.

“…Yeah?”

“Why?”

He frowned slightly, genuinely confused by the question.

“So you’re farther away from the cars.”

You smiled.

“I know, but… why?”

Charles shrugged.

“I don’t know. In case something happens and you don’t end up under a car.”

You looked at him for a second, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

Aww.

“That’s so cute.”

He tilted his head.

“Isn’t that normal?”

You laughed.

“No.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, Charles.”

He looked genuinely surprised.

“I thought everyone did that.”

You shook your head, trying not to laugh.

“No, that’s just you.”

He was quiet for a moment before giving a small shrug, as if he still didn’t quite understand why it was worth talking about.

“But,” you said, slipping your hand into his, “it’s very gentlemanly of you.”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“Well… good.”

And just like that, without thinking about it, he gently switched places with you again the next time you crossed the street. It was simply what he did.

What he always would do.

MAX VERSTAPPEN . ˚

Being with Max meant getting used to time zones.

Some weekends, he was halfway across the world while you were still at home in Monaco, trying to remember what country he was in that week.

This weekend, it was Baku.

Max knew about your plans. He always did. You had the habit of telling him everything, especially when he was away. Earlier that day, you told him you were going out with the girls.

His reply was simple.

Okay. Have fun.

And that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

Or so you thought.

By the time you got home, it was well after midnight. Your feet hurt, your makeup was smudged, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed.

You had barely kicked off your heels when your phone started ringing.

Max

A small smile spread across your face before you even answered. “Max?”

His voice was sleepy, rough around the edges.

“Hey, schat. You home?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “I just took off my shoes.”

You could practically hear him smile through the phone.

“Good.”

A small pause followed.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assured him softly.

Then you did the math. It was three in the morning in Baku.

“Max…” you said quietly. “You have a race tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“I know.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

“Then why did you call?”

He sounded genuinely confused.

“To make sure you got home.”

Your chest tightened.

“You could’ve just texted.”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

You smiled, your heart warming instantly.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, schat.”

“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

“I’ll survive.”

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, smiling at the ceiling.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For checking on me.”

Max was quiet for a moment.

“I always will.”

And somehow, you believed him without a second thought.

No matter what country he was in. No matter what time it was. If you were out, Max would always make sure you got home safely. Every single time.

view story replies:

↳user: HOOOOOTTTTTT ↳user: im drooling  ↳user: yn is so lucky 😩😩 ↳user: Is this a thirst trap 👀👀

view story replies: 

↳user: is this a response to lando’s thirst trap 🫣 ↳user: i’d recognize lando fluro anywhere ↳user: You don’t seem very unbothered to me… ↳user: who is bothering u queen i’ll fight em

lando just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, lnfour, and others

lando: Sorry team. Deserved more. I’ll do you proud next week. 

view all comments: 

user: this happens everytime yn misses a race 😭 user: Next week for sure user: why wasn’t yn at the race?? ⤷user: they broke up i think 

view story replies:

↳user: What about lando? ↳user: how are you already dating someone else ?? did you even care about lando ?? ↳user: WITH WHOOOOO

yourusername just posted

liked by alexandramalenaleclerc, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername: passenger princess? nah i don’t think so.

view all comments:

user: oh this is so targeted bc lando ALWAYS drove when they were together kikagomes: UR SO HOT 🥵 user: reminding lando of what he’s missing out on. yuuup. user: he truly fumbled you  lilymhe: can i hire you to be my chauffeur? ⤷yourusername: 100,000,000 an hour ⤷lilymhe: let me grab alex’s credit card brb ⤷alex_albon: Um no? ⤷yourusername: don’t be a controlling bf alex ⤷lilymhe: yeah you’re being really unsupportive rn ⤷alex_albon: I hate when you two gang up on me :(

yourusername just posted

liked by lando, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername: 🍡🍬🍭

view all comments:

lando: Forget the candy can i eat you instead 😛 ⤷user: EWWWW ⤷user: have some shame man user: LANDOYN BACK TOGETHERRRR user: gonna laugh when they break up again in a couple weeks lmfao  ⤷user: ok hater.

lando just posted

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and others

lando: good food good music good girl

view all comments:

user: this caption man i can’t ⤷user: i forgot how gross they are when they’re dating yourusername: my personal photographer 🥰 ⤷lando: My favorite subject 😘

lando just posted

liked by maxfewtrell, lnfour, and others

lando: Pure focus.

view all comments:

user: fuck he’s so hot i’m sick user: why do i feel like he and yn broke up again ⤷user: same. she’s not here this weekend and hasn’t interacted with him in a while :( ⤷user: They’ll be back together in no time, don’t stress about it 🤣

yourusername just posted

liked by lilyzneimer, rebeccadonaldson, and others

yourusername: me myself and i

view all comments:

user: if this isn’t confirmation they broke up idk what is user: drinking entire bottles of wine to cope, i’ve been there girly user: ok but eating sushi feels targeted lmfao ⤷user: she can finally eat fish now that they’re not together 😂😂

lando just posted

liked by yourusername and others

lando: Fun in the sun 🌞😙

view all comments:

user: I can’t keep up user: i’m getting whiplash user: yn always looks happiest when she’s with lando 🥹 user: Please don’t break up again I can’t take it

yourusername just posted

liked by lando and others

yourusername: u want me?

view all comments:

lando: YESSS I DO PICK MEEEEEEEE lando: I DO I DO ME ME ME lando: my baby is so fucking sexy lando: Holy shit im in love with you user: my driver is so embarrassing ⤷user: ok but yn is hot as hell i can’t blame him

yourusername just posted

liked by lando, lilymhe, kikagomes, and others

yourusername: to everyone that bet on us breaking up again, pay up 🫴💵

view all comments:

lando: I love you so much. Cant wait to spend the rest of my life with you.  user: OMGGGGG lilymhe: so happy for you guys <333 rebeccadonaldson: Congrats 👏 kikagomes: congrats omg 🥂🍾 lilyzneimer: So so happy for you two ❤️❤️ alexandramalenaleclerc: I’m taking all the credit for this