lewis collapses on the right side of the bed, his whole body hurting and warm after the intensity of what you just got done with.he tries to get his breathing in control, wiping at the sweat under his jaw, grunting a bit but eventually relaxing when you curl against him.
your body is just as warm and sweaty but it feels good, you feel good. like always but he's so so spent that he can feel himself falling asleep already.
that is exactly when he feels you moving your limbs off of him, he thinks you are just trying to get comfortable-
"no, no, no. baby, no. you can't be serious." leaves his lips as soon as he realises you're trying to fucking ride him again.
"lewi, c'monnn," you whimper, trying to stop him from curling into himself as you straddle him. "you said you only needed five."
"yeah to rest and clean you up," he whisper yells in disbelief. "so i could fall asleep right after!"
he knows he sounds comically especially when your pout suddenly turns into full blown laughter.
"god, you're such an oldie ugh." his brows almost fly off when you grind your wet heat on top of his cock anyway.
"baby, fucking hell i-" but you're already getting up. arms around his head so you can hover your tits in his face. his frustrated groan making you smirk. you're winning (like always).
"you're hard," you whisper, your lips sucking softly against the side of his neck as you move down.
lewis feels pathetic when he tilts his head to the side.
"i'm always hard around you." he mutters, lower lip pulled in when you start moving your hips on his thigh.
it's so pitiful that you laugh again. your eyes meet his dilated ones as you pull away but he's already grabbing your nape to pull you into a kiss.
"are you too far gone already," you chuckle as he holds your ass to put you right on top of the place he wants- no he realises that it's more of a need actually.
you're under his skin and who is he to say no to his very gorgeous, very-
"baby, you remember your safe word?" you ask and immediately lewis is switching your positions making you yelp out loud in surprise.
"don't mock me, pretty girl." he knows you were being genuine and honestly? that hurts his ego more.
"hope you remember it because i'm not at all sleepy now." lewis whispers, one of his hand holding your arms on top of your head.
he hums when you decide not to answer, not like you could really because not even a second later, he was pushed inside you.
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Esse imagine pertence a @uglyducklingofthe2000s e eu estou apenas traduzindo.
Resumo: Para o mundo, Max é um competidor frio e implacável que vai longe demais. Para sua namorada, ele secretamente lê os livros favoritos dela para se inspirar e ser romântico de maneiras que ela gosta.
O relacionamento ainda é relativamente novo. Apenas algumas semanas de existência, mas aparentemente Max não gosta de um ritmo lento nos relacionamentos, assim como na pista.
—O que você está lendo? —pergunta Max enquanto ela puxa um livro, sentados em seu jato particular.
—Não vou te contar —Sn sorri, escondendo o livro quando Max tenta tocá-lo para ver a capa de um ângulo melhor— Me deixa ler em paz.
—Me diz o que você está lendo —Max insiste, rindo, enquanto ela dá um leve tapa na mão dele, e ele se rende, apoiando a mão na coxa dela enquanto Sn se enrola usando seu colo como apoio para o livro.
Max já aprendeu alguns hábitos de sua nova namorada. Um deles é que, em qualquer voo, ela lê por cerca de 15 minutos e depois adormece. Então Max só precisa esperar ela encostar no ombro dele para pegar o livro, marcando a página para não perder o lugar antes de começar a ler.
Ele não é muito leitor, especialmente de romances, mas às vezes não é má ideia se inspirar neles para deixar Sn feliz. Afinal, quem não quer um romance de livro de história?
Quando eles aterrissam, Max já tem algumas ideias, sabendo que Sn vai se derreter e ainda chamá-lo de ladrão por ter lido seu livro e roubado ideias.
—Amor, você precisa acordar —Max sussurra, acariciando suavemente suas costas, o que a faz se mexer, levantando um pouco a cabeça antes de murmurar algo incompreensível— Ok, talvez não.
Ele suspira e a pega no colo; assim como se acostumou com o hábito dela de adormecer, está acostumado a carregá-la ao sair dos voos.
•••••••••••••••••••••
Max não acha nada caro demais para as pessoas de quem gosta, e com sua renda, ele não precisa se preocupar com preços.
Então, quando dá a Sn um colar personalizado com MV1, um pequeno logo da Red Bull e brincos combinando, não é um presente barato, mas quando a surpreende, a expressão no rosto dela vale cada centavo gasto.
Alguns diriam que dar um colar com suas iniciais tão cedo no relacionamento é arriscado. Mas Max sabe que Sn é uma romântica incorrigível e adora usar qualquer coisa da Red Bull com seu número ou iniciais. Embora ela tenha tentado pegar algumas coisas do número 33 dele, dizendo que parecia mais especial vindo dele.
—Você roubou meu livro para ter essa ideia de novo, não foi? —Sn ri enquanto Max a ajuda a colocar o colar.
—Não sei do que você está falando —Max sorri, beijando seu ombro.
Sn revira os olhos, balançando a cabeça antes de pegar os brincos, um com o logo da Red Bull todo prateado, o outro com MV.
—Eu adorei... Quanto foi?
—Não se preocupe com o preço—
—Max!
—Não sei. Só queria te dar, nem perguntei quanto custava —Max dá de ombros, admirando o colar e os brincos— Você gostou?
—Eu amei.
—Então qual a importância do preço? O preço não significa nada se você está feliz.
Max pode pensar que precisa se inspirar nos livros de Sn, que são bem românticos por sua própria admissão, mas ela acha que ele se sairia muito bem sozinho se tivesse confiança para isso.
Na verdade, ela também não vai impedi-lo. Quem seria tolo o suficiente para impedir o namorado de se esforçar para ser romântico? Não Sn, e certamente não hoje.
•••••••••••••••••••••
Sn boceja enquanto assiste ao FP2 de Vegas, que acabou tão tarde que ela não consegue deixar de sentir o frio tomando conta de todo o corpo.
Quando finalmente chegam ao fim, Max já está claramente cansado de Vegas, e Sn começa a entender o porquê.
—Está congelando —Sn treme enquanto Max a leva até o paddock da mídia, sua presença acalmando o aborrecimento dele enquanto ele se prepara para entrevistas, já que o dia nunca acaba.
Não é que Sn esteja mal vestida, mas esperar no boxe por horas em condições tão frias exige resistência até para os corpos mais preparados.
No entanto, esperar no espaço da mídia (onde ele realmente não poderia levar Sn) oferece a oportunidade de outro momento romântico, inspirado diretamente de um livro. Ele nem lembra qual livro ou a situação, mas mentalmente anotou a oportunidade de usar o frio a seu favor, e agora é o momento.
Max está vestido com um casaco da Red Bull e o abre para puxá-la para junto de seu corpo, ainda quente em comparação com o dela, pelo calor do cockpit. Ele está suado, o que normalmente a afastaria, mas agora ela está fria demais para reclamar, especialmente quando se vê escondida no casaco dele, que consegue envolver completamente seu corpo.
Ela se esconde ali, sentindo Max balançar levemente enquanto eles esperam até o assistente da mídia anunciar que é a vez dele para a entrevista.
—Vou ser rápido. Não tenho muito o que dizer —Max promete, fazendo-a murmurar antes de beijar o topo da cabeça dela. Ela se afasta do calor do corpo dele para o ar frio da noite.
A mídia parece tão insatisfeita quanto Max sobre Vegas, por ter que falar de um treino livre que aconteceu tão cedo. Mas mais tarde do que deveria.
—Vamos —Max murmura, e Sn olha para ele, preocupada com seu aborrecimento, mas ele lhe dá um sorriso tranquilizador.
Eles voltam ao hotel, onde Max a semi-abafa após o banho, tentando aquecê-la, apesar de ela insistir que já está suficientemente quente.
—Max Verstappen! Sai de cima de mim —Sn ri, mas logo desiste, derrotada, enquanto o peso dele permanece sobre ela.
Sn geme levemente, olhando para ele, seus olhos azuis penetrando sua alma, e sente todo o amor dele quase a sobrecarregar.
—Por que está chorando? —Max sussurra, levantando a mão para limpar uma lágrima fora do lugar.
—Eu só... às vezes esqueço o quanto sou sortuda por te ter. Acho que não sabia que um amor assim existia até te encontrar —Sn sussurra, fazendo o rosto de Max corar, enquanto ele acaricia suavemente sua bochecha com o polegar.
—Você nunca mais vai precisar saber como é viver sem esse amor —promete Max, e o coração dela dispara de felicidade.
—Sabe... você é melhor do que os homens dos livros que eu leio, sem nem tentar. Não precisa continuar roubando os livros para aprender... você faz muito mais do que seria necessário.
—Gosto de saber o que você está lendo... mesmo que às vezes seja quente—Max brinca, fazendo os olhos dela se arregalarem antes de subir e beijá-la suavemente— Não se preocupe, eu tiro mais ideias dessas partes do que de qualquer outra.
—Jesus Cristo —Sn murmura, escondendo o rosto nas mãos, sabendo que está ao mesmo tempo assustada e tentando esconder a excitação com a ideia.
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Kimi couldn't exactly say he was excited to visit his boyfriend's house for the first time. It wasn't because he was nevrous, (okay, maybe he was just a little nervous) but it was more so the fact his lover shared a house with others.
Kimi couldn't exactly recall why he had decided to fall in love with a dorky, idiotic- in the fondest way possible- vampire by the name of Sebastian but times like this, where he was stood staring at two large doors, he did wonder why. Kimi reached up, knocking on one of the doors.
A short moment later a handsome, grinning, sandy brunette opened the door. "Kimi!" The German accented voice exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug that almost made Kimi gasp and beg for air. The German seemed to understand his stuggle and pulled back. "Hello to you too... Seb." Kimi murmers, looking past into the house.
It was a nice blend of modern and classic, having a homely feel to it. Sebastian noticed his gaze. "How about I show you the rest?" He asks, reaching for his hand which Kimi took.
Sebastian lead him to the front room and Kimi had to blink at the sight. There were two other couples in the room. One on the sofa, hidden from veiw and the other sat on the arm chair.
The pair that were visible consisted of a small man who was almost young enough to be a boy sitting on what seemed to be a slightly older mans lap. The younger was singing something like 'Max, Max, super Max' which made the other laugh, athough Kimi could have sworn he saw something odd.
The Finn dared to venture in further with Sebastian. He glanced to the pair on the sofa. From his angle one might see that the pair were huddling close, heads in necks, affectionately. Kimi, however, recognised what was going on and it all seemed to settle in.
He was in a house of vampires...
In one go, Kimi all but dragged Sebastian out of the room, giving him a look "What?" The German asked meekly, Kimi bit back a growl. "Don't play dumb. Why am I in a house with vampires?" He demands and Sebastian looks sheepish "Don't you mean-"
"Oh great." Kimi cuts him off "Is the whole house full of vampires?"
Sebastian nods a little again and holds a hand up to him in response.
"Wait. Before you decide to leave, I can explain. I was lonely before I met you. As was Valtteri and Max so we decided to live together. Along the way the pair of them found love and turned their partners. Max has Lando and Valtteri has Lewis."
Kimi looks at him with a frown at the new information, was he being irrational?
Kimi glances back into the front room, pale grey and cookie brown eyes glancing at him from the sofa, the pair who had been feeding from one another, curious about him. They didn't seem like they wanted to kill him at least.
The Finn eventually sighs, moving in closer to Sebastian, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. "Just tell me next time that your house guests aren't exactly normal."
Sebastian looks at him and starts to to beam softly, nuzzling his nose. "I promise."
i need the next scene of look at how my tears ricochet SOOOOOOO BADDD ITS SOOOO GOOD 😭😭😭 I AM ON MY KNEES 🛐🛐🛐
SCENE 3 :: SHOW ME HOW
↳ look at how my tears ricochet — lewis hamilton ༉‧₊˚✧
★ : pairing :: lewis hamilton x reader
★ : genre :: text au; angst; slow-burn; enemies to lovers(?); arranged marriage
you and your husband are nothing more than strangers tied together by a contract neither of you wanted. stuck between cold silences and biting words, you manage to keep the world fooled, but behind the scenes, your walls are crumbling, your carefully guarded defenses cracking. desperate to leave but nowhere to stay. your home was not a place but a person now.
★ : a/n :: so this might be a little confusing, I lost the screenshot I took and had to redo the last conversation from pure brain memory and mine isn't particularly good so :") scene title song!
( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)
“your opinion of me won't change, right?”
( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy?
★:feat:: lando norris x reader
★:genre:: hurt/comfort
the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.
for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.
when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.
“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.
you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.
"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.
"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.
"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."
lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.
“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."
you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."
his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.
you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.
it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.
so you left.
"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."
he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.
“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.
“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.
"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"
the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.
"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."
it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.
all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.
the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?
he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.
"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."
"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."
you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."
he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."
his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.
you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.
"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."
you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.
when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.
you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.
