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reidiot · 10 days ago

Note

"I love you enough to listen and feel everything with you."

i'm about to get sick HELLO? 🤧💔

Idk if you write about this topics since they are really sensitive, but it is something I’m currently struggling with and I would like to see how lando would react after finding out that the reader has been hiding a her struggle with mental illness and attempts of ending her life. Once again I know how sensitive this request is but I started reading your work and fell in love with it and thought that you would write this beautifully

Seasons change | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── This was a pretty difficult one-shot to write, even though it's not very lengthy. I know that mental health is still a topic of actuality that we all deal with in one way or another. The only thing that I want you guys to remember after reading this, is that you are not alone. I know that it may sound like a broken record, but it's true. Each of us has a Lando in our lives who will care enough to stand by you without ulterior motives or conditions. And if you really feel like you don't, I can be him for you. My DMs and ask box are always open, so don't hesitate to reach out if you need someone. You matter in all your forms 🤍

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☆ summary ──── He's been away for work for a while now, but when Lando comes home to find his girlfriend at her lowest, they have to learn the hard way that love is about sitting with each other in the dark, not just chasing the light.

☆ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

☆ rating ──── mature

☆ category ──── F/M

☆ word count ──── 2.6k

☆ date ──── Jan. 11, 2025

☆ warnings ──── 16+, established relationship, soft!Lando, mental health struggles, depression, suicidal ideation, mention of alcohol consumption and pills, emotional distress, vulnerability, guilt and healing, non-sexual nudity (bathtub scene, including tenderness and intimacy).

Please, proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you or someone you know is struggling, these are some of the resources I personally used for years now & I think (and hope) that it might help you at some point:

☆ MENTAL HEALTH APPS

Calm

7 cups

BetterMe

☆ INSTAGRAM ACCOUNTS

idontmind

thefabstory (also an app)

getreformative (currently inactive, but great resources posted there)

talkspace

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THE APARTMENT IS too quiet tonight. A space that once felt like a sanctuary, now seems to close in on her, the walls pressing closer with each passing hour.

To anyone looking in, her life might appear perfectly ordinary, even enviable. She has a stable job that she loves, a couple of friends who care in their own way, and Lando. Lando, with his boundless energy, his boyish grin, and his unwavering ability to see the good in her even when she struggles to find it in herself. But beneath that polished surface, there’s a darkness she’s been hiding for as long as she can remember.

She’s not really sure when it happened, or what caused her to lose her spark. Most of the times, she thinks that she’s always been like this, but that can’t be right. Although, at this point in time, it went on long enough that she learned to wear masks and mimic people’s gestures. It’s exhausting, but it’s easier than explaining why some days she can barely drag herself out of bed, or why her mind feels like a storm she can’t escape.

Lately, the same storm has been relentless. Lando’s been away for weeks, hopping from one race to another, his life a whirlwind of fast cars, tons of people, and flashing cameras. She’s proud of him, of course, but his absence leaves a void she can’t seem to fill on her own, no matter how many phone calls they share.

She knows it’s not his responsibility to fix her, but without even knowing it, Lando does it every time he looks at her. In those moments, pieces of her heart are welded back together, giving her hope that one day, maybe, it will be whole again.

Of course, things aren’t that easy.

She’s always been a loner, someone who enjoys her own company more than the chaos of others. This is why she doesn’t go with Lando to all of his races. Over time, they’ve developed their own rhythm, and it only works when they both put in the effort to be together. However, she knows that he often works for both of them. She also knows that it’s not right to let him do this, but she doesn’t know how to stop.

But being alone isn’t the same as being lonely, and lately, the loneliness feels like it’s swallowing her whole. She tries to keep busy, to distract herself with work or a new book, but the dark thoughts always find her; a cycle she can’t break. They usually creep in at night when she’s most vulnerable, whispering lies she can’t ignore.

You’re a burden.

He’d be better off without you.

Everyone would be better off without you.

In spite of everything, she knows she’s lucky, though. She has a roof over her head, food on the table, and someone who loves her. And, somehow, knowing that only makes her feel worse. Most of the times, the guilt is suffocating — a heavy weight that presses down on her chest until she can’t breathe. She’s tried to push the thoughts away, to drown them in work or meaningless distractions. She tried to be grateful. But tonight, like many other nights before, they’ve won.

When Lando steps into the apartment, the soft click of the door is echoing in the stillness. It’s late — later than he’d hoped — and he assumes she’s already asleep, because he texted her hours ago to let her know he was on his way, but there had been no reply.

Dropping his bag quietly by the door, he toes off his sneakers and glances toward the dimly lit living room. The faint glow of the city skyline filters through the curtains, casting muted shadows across the floor. He moves carefully, not wanting to wake her, with a simple plan in mind: slip into bed, wrap his arms around his girlfriend, and fall asleep to the steady rhythm of her breathing.

But something feels off.

On his way to the bedroom, he spots the balcony door slightly ajar. A cool breeze sneaks through the crack, carrying with it the faint scent of something acrid. He pauses, his brow furrowing as he approaches the glass door.

That’s when he sees her.

She’s out on the balcony, her back to him, legs dangling dangerously over the edge. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his mind struggling to process what he’s seeing. Then his gaze shifts, taking in the scene: some things are knocked over on the small table by the door, a small flacon of pills alongside a half-empty bottle of wine, and all the mess. The realization hits him like a physical blow, and his heart starts pounding in his chest.

But then, panic grips him as he slides the door open, stepping out onto the balcony. The sound startles her, and she turns her head slightly, her expression distant and unfocused. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and there’s an eerie calmness about her that chills him to the core.

“Hey, is everything okay?” asks Lando, his voice soft as he crouches beside her, careful not to make any sudden movements. “What… baby, what are you doing out here?”

She doesn’t answer immediately, her gaze drifting back to the city below. The silence stretches, each second feeling heavier than the previous one.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, his voice slightly cracking. His eyes dart back to the table, to the pill bottle and the wine, and he feels a surge of anger mixed with fear. “Is this—fuck. Did you take these?”

She shakes her head, a small smile curving in the corner of her mouth. “I’m so tired, love,” she whispers finally, her voice shaking over the hum of the city.

Her words hit him like a punch in the gut, and he’s suddenly aware of how fragile she looks, and how close she is to the edge. His hands shake as he reaches for her, gently gripping her arm. His heart beats so hard that he feels it throughout his body — his ribcage, in his throat, in the hand he tightens around her, to make sure he’s holding her with enough force.

“Okay. That’s okay,” he says, his tone soft but urgent. “Let’s go inside, yeah? I’m tired too, we can rest together. What do you say?”

“No… no, it’s not—” she tries to speak, but her brain is clouded by a mental fog, and everything around her moves too quickly for her to catch up.

“Come on, can you step back? Please. For me?”

His last question is what jolts her back to reality. For him? She would do anything for him. Lando knows that, and she soon realizes that he is using it to emotionally blackmail her. He always does that, and it annoys her.

She raises her head to look at him, her tired eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Lando thinks she’ll comply. But then, she pushes his hand away, a trace of betrayal crossing his face.

“No. It’s pretty out here,” she says, gazing down at the world that simply exists under her feet. The distance makes her stomach clench, knowing that all it takes it’s a small misstep for everything to end. Still, she doesn’t move an inch.

“I see that, love,” he agrees, “But I want to talk to you, and I can’t do that unless I make sure you’re safe. Did you… do this before?”

She nods slowly, refusing to look at him.

At that, Lando exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm the storm in his chest. He knows her enough to know when to push and when to give her space, only this time around, he’s met with a weird combination of both. Luckily, his body decides what to do before his mind agrees to it and, cautiously, he climbs up to join her on the edge, his hands gripping the cold railing as his pulse pounds in his ears.

Her head snaps toward him, her expression instantly shifting, panic flashing in her eyes. “No, what are you doing?” she whispers, her voice cracking.

“I’m with you,” he murmurs, his voice tender, laced with fear he’s desperately trying to hide. “If you’re staying here, then so am I.”

She blinks, her lips parting as if to protest, but no words come. Instead, her gaze softens, the wine-induced haze in her eyes clearing. Slowly, she lets out a shaky breath and sits down on the narrow ledge, her hands gripping the edge. Lando follows her lead, sitting close but careful not to crowd her, his knee brushing hers. He hesitates for a moment before gently reaching for her hand, and he exhales relieved when her fingers close around his, grounding both of them.

They sit in silence for a moment, the distant city lights flickering around them.

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, breaking the quiet. “I never… If something happens, I don’t want to have to miss you all the time—”

“Lando, I know,” she cuts him off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she continues, staring at their joined hands. Her voice is small, guilt creeping into her tone.

He nods, looking at her, “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Lando says gently. “I know I’m away a lot, but if you need me, I’ll do anything.”

Her grip on his hand tightens slightly just as she turns to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, tears pooling but not yet falling. “It’s not your fault, Lan. It’s me. I… don’t even know. There’s nothing wrong, but at the same time, nothing’s quite right, either.”

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Don’t apologize for feeling. It just makes me think now, because I thought you trusted me,” says Lando, his words cutting through her like a knife through butter. “I trust you,” he adds, almost like pointing it out.

She knows he does, her mind instantly replaying the moments in her mind, the times he’d come to her with his struggles. When a race didn’t go his way, and he doubted everything he’d worked so hard for. When social media was brutal, tearing him apart with words that left invisible scars. When he felt hated and couldn’t understand why. He always talked to her, shared his pain, his fears, his insecurities. He let her in, trusted her completely. And now, here she was, shutting him out when he was only trying to do the same for her.

“Don’t say that…” she starts, but her voice catches, and her breath hitches. “I’m trying.”

“I know, baby. I know,” Lando says gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Can we, please, just go inside?”

The tears she’s been holding back for too long finally slip free, carving hot, silent paths down her cheeks. She looks up at him, her lips trembling as she whispers, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His expression softens, and without hesitation, he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles, mostly to show her that she didn’t. The gesture is so simple yet so full of love that it sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her.

Lando doesn’t let go of her hand as he gently helps her to her feet, guiding her back inside the apartment. The night air clings to their skin, but it’s the quiet inside that feels even heavier. He doesn’t say much, just keeps her close, his touch steady and grounding as they make their way to the bathroom.

A little uncomfortable now, she leans against the doorframe, watching as Lando moves around, carefully. He runs the water, testing the temperature with his hand, adding just the right amount of bath salts from the container on the shelf. The pale lavender-scented steam begins to fill the space, creating a safe bubble for both of them.

When Lando finally looks back at her, his expression is warm and inviting, somehow hopeful. He steps closer, reaching out to gently cup her cheek, wiping away the tear stains that remain.

“You’re everything to me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over her skin before his hands move to the hem of her hoodie.

She doesn’t protest as he carefully lifts it over her head, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving hers. For a moment, she stands there, feeling vulnerable under his gaze, but there’s nothing but love in his expression.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches out to return the gesture, undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one. His eyes stay locked on hers, silently reassuring her, grounding her in the best way possible. By the time she pushes the fabric off his shoulders, the weight in her chest feels a little lighter.

They step into the bath together, the warm water enveloping them like a soothing embrace. She settles between his legs, her back against his chest, and his arms come around her instinctively. There’s no rush, no need for words. It’s just them, surrounded by the quiet hum of the water and the soft glow of the candles Lando had lit earlier.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment before he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Promise you’ll talk to me next time?” he asks, his voice small but steady. “I know things won’t change overnight, I don’t expect them to. But I need to know you understand that I’m here for you. That I love you enough to listen, and feel everything with you.”

The words settle in her chest, heavy but necessary, like the first raindrops of a storm. For the first time in what feels like forever, she sees beyond the swirling chaos in her mind. The weight of his love and understanding wraps around her like the warmth of the water they’re sitting in. And then it hits her.

How life itself is the changing of seasons, a constant push and pull — a constant chaos. Sometimes, the sun will break through, lighting everything in gold. Other times, it will rain so hard she won’t see the way ahead. But Lando’s right. It will get better again. Then worse. And then better again. That’s the way it is for everyone. A relentless tide of ups and downs, joy and pain, hope and disappointments.

As she leans back into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, she realizes the most important thing: it isn’t always black or white. Sometimes, it’s a hazy gray — a space where the lines blur, where the answers aren’t clear, and the path you find yourself on feels impossibly difficult to navigate. But it’s in that in-between, in the murky middle, that having the right person beside you matters the most. Not to pull you into the light or demand you leave the shadows, but to sit with you in the dark, holding your hand, letting you know you’re not alone.

She swallows hard, her throat tight, but not from sadness this time. “I promise,” she finds the strength to whisper. Her breath catches, and she turns her head slightly to meet his gaze, tears still pooling in her eyes. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I—”

“You deserve everything, my love,” Lando assures her, his lips brushing her temple, before placing a tiny kiss there. “And I’ll make sure you get it.”

His definitive tone sends shivers down her spine.

She closes her eyes, feeling the water ripple softly around them, and holds on tighter, knowing that no matter what storms may come, the most important thing is that they won’t lose each other’s touch.

And that’s everything to her.

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading!

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reidiot · 21 days ago

Note

this was so HOT 🤤🥵

Hiii i’ve seen your post about witting a book! Congrats!!! that’s awesomene!

i wanna add that me like the other anon loveeee your work!! and yes, your second chance ex lovers is pure gold!

can i request lando and ex lover reader having like an affair, they don’t know if they are together or not because they are in the same group of childhood friends and they grew up together, their families are like besties and they are forced to see eachother frequently even at family events but they’ve been screwing around every chance they get secretly snd none of their friends know , because they feel like it’s the only compromise for having eachother in their lives without complications and at some point during a party they are almost getting caught cause someone comes back home while they are doing it

idk if this is something you’d be willing to write! but i imagined like a good amount of banter and comedy but at the same time angst and passion!

LOVE UUU!! i’ll be queuing at the bookshop to buy your book as soon as it’s out!

Winning hand | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so, so much for supporting my work, you're the sweetest 😭🤍 I promise you guys will be the first to know if I manage to get my shit together and finally publish my project. Also, I know the party setting it's kind of basic for this type of request, but hopefully I didn't derail too far from what you've envisioned. Anyway, thanks again and happy reading ^^

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𐙚 summary ──── A little fiasco about childhood friends, second chances, and playing your cards right.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, mentions of alcohol and drinking, confrontation and emotional conflict, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, fluff & smut, Max, Ria, Ethan, Connor, and Morgan cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 7.8k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 30, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── That being said, this is the last LN⁴ one-shot of the year. Thank you so much for making the past 2 months more bearable for me, and hopefully we'll get to grow together into the next year. Take care of yourselves, spend as much time as you can with the people you love, and for the ones who sent requests my way, know that they're coming. Love you all, see you soon 🤍🎀

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FOR MOST OF their lives, it had been innocent.

They’ve known each other since they were kids, their lives stitched together by years of memories together, family connections, and the kind of history that feels impossible to escape, no matter how hard they’ve tried. Their families were inseparable, and by extension, so were they — holidays, vacations, and every mundane day in between.

But time has only one direction, and a lot of things can change in a year, a month, a week, even a day.

For most of their lives, it had been innocent.

But then it wasn’t.

Somewhere along the way, the dynamic shifted between them. It didn't happen in a year, a month, a week or a day. Truth is, none of them actually knows the when, the how or the why.

The first kiss had been unexpected, born out of a summer evening and a bottle of stolen alcohol they’d shared in her dad’s wine cellar, hiding from their families. They were 16 at the time, and they never talked about it, not properly, but they never stopped either. Just like that, in time, they became each other's first in every possible way.

Their relationship — if you could even call it that — evolved into something undefined and intoxicating. Lots of stolen moments, late nights, whispered conversations, and fleeting touches behind closed doors. Now, it’s a game they both know how to play, the rules unspoken, but understood by both parties.

They dated once, a year ago, but it was way too complicated for them to keep pretending it was working. Too much time apart is never good — not when you try to build and maintain something.

They’re not together, not officially, but the pull is undeniable. Surprisingly, keeping their ‘complication’ a secret was exactly what they needed; it’s easier this way. Safer. A compromise they're both willing to make.

Max’s new place hums with energy, the low thrum of bass-heavy music blending seamlessly with the murmur of conversation and bursts of laughter.

The party sprawls across the open-plan living room, with clusters of people perched on couches, leaning against counters, or swirling drinks in their hands. Amidst the buzz, their group is huddled around the coffee table in the corner of the living room, playing Uno.

A few empty beer bottles and half-eaten bowls of chips clutter the table between them, innocent casualties of the night’s ongoing pulse.

“Lando, if you play another Draw Four, I swear I'm gonna jump on you,” Ria warns, narrowing her eyes at him. She’s leaned forward on her elbows, her focus razor-sharp despite the gin and tonic in her hand.

Lando grins, twirling a card between his fingers. “I’d like to see you try,” he teases, his eyes flickering over the table, but not before catching her gaze. It’s fleeting, just a split second, but it lingers in the tension between them.

She smirks, pretending not to notice, just as her stomach twists in a familiar, unwelcome way. “Just play your card, Norris,” she says, tilting her head.

“Don’t rush me, love,” he replies smoothly, the nickname slipping out so casually that it makes her heart stutter.

The others notice, of course — they always do. Connor snorts, nudging Ethan with his elbow, while Morgan rolls his eyes in exaggerated exasperation.

“Goodness gracious. Just go fuck already, and spare us, mate. Max’s gaming room is empty, anyway,” Morgan mutters, drawing laughs from everyone except the two people in question, and Max.

“No one is fucking in my gaming room, yeah?” says Max, throwing another card on the table, eyeing Lando up and down, while pointing a finger at his friend. “I'm serious, mate.”

“Jesus. Let’s jus focus on the game, people,” Lando chimes in, though the corner of his mouth twitches with amusement.

The cards pile up in the center, bright reds and blues clashing in a game that’s somehow both chaotic and competitive. Ria drops a Reverse with a flourish, grinning when it disrupts Ethan’s carefully planned move. Ethan groans, shoving his chair back and glaring at her.

“Fuck this game, mate. I’m out,” he says, getting up to leave, while the blonde girl starts laughing.

Half an hour later, the space gets smaller, quieter somehow, even with the hum of the party carrying on around them. The others have drifted away, absorbed in conversations or drinks, or conversations and drinks. Still, Lando and her are locked in their own little world as the game stretches into its final act.

They sit cross-legged on the floor, with the coffee table between them, the once-busy atmosphere around them reduced to white noise. She leans forward, elbow braced on the edge of the table, her gaze sharp and focused on her last two cards. Lando mirrors her posture, though there’s a lazy grin tugging at his lips, one that doesn’t quite match the intensity in his eyes as they flick between her and his hand.

“Don’t mess this up, Norris,” she warns, voice light but edged with challenge.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he replies smoothly, spinning a card between his fingers. “But you might.”

She narrows her eyes, “You’re so bluffing.”

“Am I?” his grin widens, his confidence unshakable.

The playful edge between them is now stained with something warmer, something they both pretend not to notice. When she plays her second-to-last card, her voice cuts through the air.

“Uno,” the girl announces, sitting up straighter, her smile gleaming with smug satisfaction.

Lando pauses, glancing at his cards. He has her — he can make her draw four, ruin her victory lap, and turn the game in his favor. It would be so easy. But as he looks up, he sees the way her eyes sparkle, the way her lips quirk into that small, victorious smile that makes his chest tighten in the best way. So, he hesitates. It’s not the game he cares about, not really. It’s her. Her joy, the way her confidence radiates when she wins, even at something as silly as a stupid card game. And right now, he realizes he’d rather lose a hundred games than take that away from her.

“Your move,” she prompts impatiently, tapping her fingers on the table.

Lando sighs dramatically, as if conceding defeat is the hardest thing he’s ever done. “Fine,” he says, laying down a harmless card.

Her last one hits the table with a loud slap, throwing her hands in the air. “And that’s how it’s done!”

Lando chuckles, leaning back on his hands. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Hm, maybe I am,” she replies, standing and pointing at him with mock authority, “But you’re still the loser, so clean that up,” she continues, gesturing at the mess of cards scattered across the table.

As he gathers the deck, watching her saunter off toward the kitchen, her smugness is practically radiating off her. He can’t help but smile, shaking his head.

Totally worth it.

A moment later, Lando gets up, glancing around to make sure no one’s paying attention. Then, his feet move almost of their own accord, following the path to the kitchen. When he steps inside, he finds her leaning against the counter, pouring herself another drink. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound sharp, letting her know she’s not alone anymore.

She finally turns, eyebrows raised, “Can you be more obvious than that?”

Lando leans back against the door, nodding his head while shoving his hands in his pockets, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “Easily. But I thought I’d see if the reigning Uno champion needed anything.”

He moves towards her with a purpose that makes her heart beat faster. His eyes flick to the drink in her hand, and before she can react, Lando takes it gently from her fingers.

“You’ve had enough of this,” he says softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, though his gaze holds something deeper. He places the glass on the far counter, far enough that neither of them can easily reach it.

“Says who?” she asks, excited to provoke him.

“I say,” Lando's voice has so much determination behind it that it makes her swallow her own words.

Her breath catches as his hands hover near her waist, not quite touching but close enough to make her feel the heat of his presence. He shifts, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress, hesitant at first, as though testing her boundaries. At that, she tilts her head to look up at him, her fingers moving almost instinctively to touch his jawline.

“And who are you?” the girl finally asks.

The tension thickens in the air they’re sharing when her fingertips graze his skin, his jaw clenching beneath her touch. Lando inhales deeply, his eyes closing briefly before they lock onto hers again, darker than usual, filled with something raw.

“Come here,” says Lando in a low voice. “Find out.”

His hands finally land on her hips, lifting her with ease onto the counter. The cold surface beneath her contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from his body as he steps closer, slotting himself between her knees. After that, the world shrinks to just them, the space between their faces reduced to a tiny whisper. His nose brushes against hers, a soft, innocent gesture that makes her heart grow ten times in size. His breath fans over her lips, his words so quiet she almost misses them.

“You look beautiful tonight,” says Lando, his voice rough yet tender. “These past few weeks have been...” his voice trails off, swallowig the lump in his throat, “I’ve missed you.”

Her hands slide up his arms, fingers curling over his shoulders as she leans in, her lips brushing his as she whispers, “Then why didn’t you—”

Just as she’s about to scold him for ghosting her, the door flies open with a loud noise, making them both flinch.

“Where’s the beer?” Connor’s voice cuts through the charged silence, loud and boisterous as he stumbles into the kitchen, his grin as wide as it is oblivious.

Lando groans quietly, stepping back quickly, his expression shifting into something far more neutral. “In the fridge, mate,” he says, his tone calm and collected despite the storm she knows is still brewing inside him.

Connor doesn’t notice a thing, too busy rooting around in the fridge for another bottle.

She stays on the counter the entire time, her cheeks flushed and her breathing uneven as she tries to compose herself.

Lando shoots her a quick glance, his lips twitching into a small smirk before turning to help his friend, grabbing a beer from the fridge and handing it to Connor.

“Did you go blind all of a sudden? Here you go,” says Lando, pushing the bottle into his friend’s chest. “Let’s get you back before you clear out the entire stock.”

Connor laughs, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulders as they head back to the living room. Lando glances over his shoulder one last time, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he disappears through the door.

A COUPLE OF hours later, the room roars with life, the bass vibrating through the floor as bodies move in sync with the beat. The air is heavy with the scent of different perfumes, energy drinks, and alcohol, the colored LEDs casting a kaleidoscope of light that bounces off the dancing crowd.

She lets herself get swept up in the chaos, her hand clasped in Ria’s as they spin each other around, their laughter cutting through the music. The rhythm is intoxicating, the tension from earlier forgotten as she moves, her body surrendering to the music completely.

And then, out of nowhere, she feels it — a pair of hands on her waist, big, warm, and so very familiar. She knows it’s him before she even turns, her breath catching as Lando’s presence envelops her. He doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls her closer to him, their bodies falling into an easy rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.

Her hands instinctively fly to his, their fingers intertwining as he holds her against him. Lando’s chest presses against her back, his breath warm against the side of her neck. He’s so much taller than her, his frame towering over her petite body, and she feels the possessiveness in the way his fingers grip her waist, anchoring her to his body like a keychain. It makes her stomach flip, enjoying it more than she should.

Her movements slow at the feeling, syncing to his as he takes control. Instinctively, Lando’s hips press against hers, and she feels the growing evidence of his desire through the thin fabric of her dress. Her heart skips a beat, a shiver running down her spine as he leans in, his lips brushing against her ear.

“You’re driving me wild,” he says, his voice rough, barely audible over the music. “Maybe we should take Ginge’s advice and disappear upstairs.”

She twists her head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his mischievous grin. “People will notice.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against her back. “So what?” he asks, continuing when he sees confusion painting her face, “No one’s paying attention,” says Lando, his tone dripping with confidence. “Just look around. Everyone’s too drunk to care.”

She doesn’t respond, her mind spinning as his lips brush against her ear again. His hands slide lower, cupping her ass through her dress, his touch firm while he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper.

“Coming or not?”

Before she can answer, he steps back, squeezing her hand for the briefest moment before letting it go, his body heat lingering like a ghost around her. He starts toward the stairs, his movements confident, knowing she’ll be the one to follow him this time.

Her heart pounds as she watches him disappear upstairs, her body torn between reason and his magnetic pull. But without even realizing it, her feet are moving, carrying her up the stairs after him.

Max’s gaming room is painted in a deep charcoal gray, accented by strips of LED lights glowing in soft blue. A triple monitor is mounted on one wall, the dark screens reflecting the faint light. A sleek gaming chair sits in the center of it all, surrounded by an array of high-tech equipment, from consoles to headphones hanging neatly on their stands. The shelves are lined with a few books, collectibles, trophies, and Lando's mini helmets throughout his Formula 1 seasons.

The centerpiece, though, is the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that span one entire wall, offering an uninterrupted view of the city skyline.

Lando waits leaning against the door frame, letting her enter first, a wry smile at the corner of his mouth. She steps inside hesitantly, her heels clicking softly against the polished wooden floor. The moment the door locks behind them with a quiet click, the silence is absolute, wrapping around them like a cocoon, realizing quickly that the room is soundproof.

She takes a few steps forward, her fingers trailing over the edge of the desk, the cool surface smooth beneath her touch. The faint scent of Max’s cologne lingers in the air, mingling with the faint hum of electronics on standby.

Lando watches her from afar, his arms crossed casually over his chest, but his eyes follow her every move. He doesn’t rush her, letting her explore the surroundings at her own pace.

Her fingers glide further over the back of the gaming chair, then along the edge of a shelf, before finally coming to rest on the thick glass of the window. She gazes out at the city, her reflection faintly visible against the backdrop of twinkling lights. The view is breathtaking, but she barely notices, her focus drawn inward by the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

Lando moves silently behind her, his presence warm and solid as his arms wrap around her waist. His hands are firm but gentle, sliding down over her hips before slipping under the hem of her dress. His fingertips trace small patterns against her soft skin, igniting a fire that spreads through her body.

She turns to face him, her arms traveling up to wrap around his neck. Her fingers tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging gently as she looks up at him. With a small sigh, her eyes search his, finding a tenderness there that makes her heart ache.

Lando’s hands shift lower, gripping her thighs as he lifts her effortlessly. She gasps, her back pressing against the cool glass of the window. He presses his lips to her collarbone, then lower to the heated skin of her chest, his breath hot against her.

Her fingers bury deeper in his hair, pulling his head up so their eyes meet again. The tension between them snaps as she pulls him into a kiss, profound and purposeful, her lips moving against his with a desperation that matches the fire building between them.

Lando’s breath hitches as her hips press into his, the intentional movement sending a jolt of heat through his body. Without breaking their kiss, he adjusts his grip on her, his strong hands supporting her thighs as he walks them both across the room. She clings to him, her fingers threading through his hair, her lips trailing along his jawline as he walks to the plush armchair tucked near the bookshelf. He sinks into it with her still in his arms, her body fitting perfectly on his lap.

The girl shifts, her knees on either side of his hips as she settles in, her dress riding up slightly. Her hands move to the buttons of his shirt, deftly undoing them one by one, exposing the tanned skin beneath. Her lips follow the path of her hands, leaving a trail of wet kisses along his chest. She lingers on the curve of his collarbone, her tongue flicking out to taste him, eliciting a low whimper from his throat. Lando leans back into the chair, letting her take her time, his head tilted slightly to watch her with hooded eyes, dark and full of want.

“Enjoying yourself?” he speaks softly, his voice thick with amusement and desire.

She smirks against his skin, her fingers grazing over the muscle of his chest as she hums in response, “Very much. What about you?”

As a response, his hands slide down to cup her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he helps guide her movements. Slowly, deliberately, he grinds her hips against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of them. She gasps, her head tipping back as he presses her harder against his growing length.

“Lando,” she whispers, her voice breathy, almost pleading.

He smiles, leaning forward to nip at the sensitive skin of her neck, his hands never stopping their rhythm. “What is it, love?” he teases, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

The shift in her demeanor is instant, the energy between them going from electric to tense in a heartbeat. Her body stiffens at the word ‘love’, and she pulls back, her expression shuttered. Lando frowns, confused, the heat in his body still thrumming, but now accompanied by a gnawing sense of dread.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice cautious now.

She shakes her head, slipping off his lap and smoothing her dress, avoiding his gaze on purpose. “Nothing. I just—I need a moment.”

Still sitting, his confusion is mixing with a rising sense of panic. He’s half-hard, his shirt unbuttoned, his heart pounding, but all of that pales compared to the way she’s looking anywhere but at him.

“Wait,” says Lando, standing quickly, his brows knitting together. “What’s going on? Did I do something?”

“It’s nothing,” she replies, slightly annoyed, her tone clipped as she turns away from him.

“It’s not nothing,” he counters, taking a step closer. His voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of desperation behind it. “Please, talk to me? Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

She exhales sharply, her arms wrapping around herself as she keeps her back to him. “I said I need a moment, Lando.”

The way she won’t look at him stings more than he wants to admit.

“A moment for what?” asks Lando, frustration creeping into his tone. “To avoid me? What the hell did I do?”

That’s when she snaps, spinning around to face him, her eyes blazing. “Fine, you want to know? Stop calling me love.”

He blinks, thrown by the venom in her tone. “What?”

“You don’t mean it. You never do,” she says, her voice trembling, though her anger is steady. “You say it because it’s convenient. Because it fits the moment. And it's pissing me off.”

His jaw tightens, and he crosses his arms at his chest, his confusion giving way to irritation. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you?” she fires back, stepping closer. “Then how come you throw it around like it’s nothing, Lando? All the damn time, it drives me insane.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and exhaling sharply. “I’ve never treated you like nothing. Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

“Then stop acting like words are enough,” she fires back, her voice rising. “Because they’re not. You don’t get to call me something like that just because you’re horny or because it sounds good in the moment. It’s not fair.”

“Fair?” he repeats, incredulous. “What about what’s fair to me? What about all the times I’ve shown you that you’re not just some hookup? That you actually matter to me? Come on, why are you like this?”

Her laugh is harsh, bitter. “Shown me? Lando, you’re all talk. Always have been.”

“See, now that’s not fair,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “You were the one who said it’s better to stay just friends, then did nothing to stop me when I came to you. You know I'll always come to you. So, don’t put that on me, because it’s not the case.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” she retorts. “I’d have trouble believing you even if you fell on your knees in front of me, because you’re always just talk. You never follow through, not really. That’s why it’s better to stay just friends.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he just stares at her, his chest heaving.

Then, slowly, as if the weight of her accusation has physically buckled him, Lando sinks to his knees. Her breath catches as she watches him, stunned. He wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tightly, his head resting against her stomach. When he looks up at her, his eyes are glassy, as if he tries to keep his emotions under control, but failing at it.

“I’m not just talk,” he says, his voice low but steady. “I’m here, right now. What more do you need from me?”

Her hands hover in the air, uncertain, before they come to rest gently on his shoulders. She looks down at him, her anger ebbing away, replaced by something softer, something aching.

“I need you to mean it,” she whispers.

“I do,” he rushes to say, his grip tightening around her.

As a desperate gesture, Lando presses his lips to her bare thighs. The tension between them shifts for the hundredth time tonight, softening with every kiss he leaves on her skin. Each touch feels reverent, as if he’s trying to carve his devotion into her body — for her to feel it and for the world to see it.

“You’re it for me,” he speaks against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. He glances up at her, his eyes unguarded. “You always were. Ever since we were kids.”

She swallows hard, the warmth of his words sinking into her as he continues, “You’re the only one who knows me, really knows me. You’ve seen every side of me — the good, the bad, the stupid — all of it. And I know you. I know everything about you, the things you don’t tell anyone else. We’ve always had that, haven’t we? Something no one else could touch.”

Her chest tightens as his words hit home. His hands slide down her legs, his thumbs brushing over her skin as if he’s trying to ground himself in her.

“I hate that I couldn’t make it work the first time,” says Lando, his voice breaking slightly. “I hate that I didn’t try harder. But even after all that, I can’t stay away from you. You can’t either,” he points out. “You’re the only one who’s ever mattered, and you know it. Fuck it, our friends know it. They see it. They see what I see — that you’re mine, and I’m yours, no matter how much we fight it.”

His lips graze her inner thigh now, and she shivers, her breath hitching at the intensity of his words and the way his hands never stop caressing her. “Of course I love you,” whispers Lando, the confession hanging in the air between them. “I always have. I’d be crazy not to.”

Tears blur her vision as she listens, her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, she lifts his chin with her fingers, forcing him to look at her. Lando’s eyes are desperate, pleading, searching hers for a hint of understanding.

“Believe me,” he begs, his voice barely above a whisper.

She takes a shaky breath in, her gaze locked with his. Then, without a word, she presses the sharp point of her high heel into his thigh — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a message. He smirks faintly, understanding, and moves to help her slide the shoes off her feet.

When she stands, now smaller without the height of her heels, he rises to his full height, towering over her. The look on his face is equal parts adoration and hunger, and she reaches for his shirt, her fingers skimming his skin as she pushes it off his shoulders. The fabric falls to the floor in a forgotten heap, and he steps closer, their bodies almost touching.

His hands find her waist again, his thumbs brushing the curve of her hip as she moves to unbutton his jeans. Their breaths come faster as they help each other shed the rest of their clothes, the tension and passion between them building with each passing second.

They stumble back toward the chair, their movements uncoordinated but instinctive. He lowers her onto the seat, her body sinking into the plush fabric as he follows, hyperaware of the way they fit together so perfectly. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like coming home, and as he presses his forehead to hers, they both know there’s no going back from this — this is it.

Lando kneels again, his eyes never leaving hers as his hands slide down her thighs with purpose. His grip is firm while he pulls her to the edge of the chair, his strength undeniable yet gentle, a combination that sends a shiver through her. The soft fabric of the chair cushions her, but there’s nothing soft about the way Lando handles her — decisive and full of intent.

She stops breathing when he spreads her legs wider, his large hands gripping her thighs to keep her steady for him. His gaze flickers to her core, full of hunger. She’s trembling under his touch, gripping the arms of the chair for stability just as he leans forward.

The first touch of his tongue is hot, firm, and rushed. He parts her folds with his fingers, collecting her wetness, and spreads it with an audible slickness that makes her gasp. His eyes flick up to hers, a smirk ghosting across his lips before he dives in again. His tongue moves like he knows her, like he’s memorized every spot that makes her whimper in pleasure. He alternates between slow, languid strokes and quick flicks on her clit, keeping her on the edge of control. Her hips move involuntarily, rocking against him, chasing the feeling that’s building deep inside her.

“Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaking.

He squeezes her thigh with one hand, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave faint marks, grounding her. The silent message is clear: Let me take care of you. His other hand moves back between her legs, his fingers finding her clit with expert precision, circling it in time with his tongue.

She’s helpless against the onslaught, her body arching as the sweet feeling builds to an unbearable peak. Her breaths come faster, her hands gripping the blanket that’s resting on the arm of the chair, so tightly that her knuckles turn white. Lando groans against her, the vibration of the sound shooting straight through her, pushing her even closer to the edge.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, her hips jerking as his tongue works her over. “I'm—fuck, Lando. What are you—”

Her string of unfinished thoughts makes his heart race, Lando’s hand tightening on her thigh on instinct, holding her close as she lifts her hips to meet his movements. His name spills from her lips again, a desperate cry this time, and he redoubles his efforts, only to push her over the edge.

His fingers curl inside her, pressing against that perfect spot that makes her jaw drop, her thighs quivering against his shoulders. The rhythm of his hand is relentless, a steady pulse that syncs perfectly with the deliberate flicks of his tongue against her clit. The contrast of sensations — the firm stretch of his fingers and the velvety warmth of his mouth — overwhelms her, pulling her further into bliss.

Every nerve in her body feels like it’s on fire, the tension in her core winding tighter with every stroke of his fingers, and every gentle suction from his lips.

The only anchor she has left is him — the man whose name she can’t stop moaning, the man who knows her body like he owns her.

He groans against her wetness, and the smug satisfaction in his chest grows. He loves the way she falls apart for him, the way her voice trembles when she says his name like a prayer. He loves knowing he’s the one unraveling her, that he has this power over her, that she’s utterly his, in the end.

“Come on, baby,” says Lando, his lips brushing her sensitive skin between kisses. “Let me taste you.”

Her body obeys before her mind does, a shuddering gasp escaping her lips as her climax crashes over her. Her walls clamp around his fingers, and her hips jerk uncontrollably against his mouth as he continues, drawing every last ripple of pleasure from her. She’s not in Max’s room anymore, she’s not even on this planet; she’s somewhere far beyond, floating weightlessly in the haze of ecstasy, and the only word that lingers in her mind, that passes through her lips in breathless repetition, is his name.

He watches her losing it, utterly mesmerized by her beauty. The way her face contorts with pleasure, the way her body trembles beneath his hands — it’s everything to him.

Lando slows his movements as she begins to come down, his fingers slipping out of her gently, his tongue tracing delicate, feather-light circles over her oversensitive clit before he finally pulls away. A thin string of saliva mixed with her release connects his mouth to it, glistening in the low light as he leans back, the sight almost obscene. He pauses for a moment, his chest heaving, before lifting a hand to wipe his mouth, the corner of his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

She’s a mess, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed. And he’s never felt more proud and content than he does in this moment, knowing he gave her that.

He presses a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh, his fingers tracing the faint marks he left there, before looking up at her, satisfied.

“You okay?” asks Lando, his voice husky.

Instead of using her words, she pulls him in without hesitation, her fingers threading through his curls as their lips collide. The kiss is passionate yet lazy, since she is too spent to rush it. Her legs wrap around Lando, anchoring herself to him, and he rises with her in his arms like she weighs nothing at all. The motion is seamless, natural, as if their bodies are following a script written long ago. He settles back into the chair, drawing her onto his lap. She feels him beneath her, hard and eager, his arousal pressing insistently against her.

She brushes a hand over his chest, letting her fingers trail down his stomach before wrapping them gently around his cock. Lando shudders under her touch, his breath hitching as her thumb brushes over the sensitive tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum, and without breaking eye contact, she lifts her thumb to her mouth. She sucks gently, her lips closing around the digit, her tongue swirling as if savoring the taste. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, the sight of her making his chest tighten, and his breathing grows uneven.

“Are you planning to kill me?” he rasps, his voice strained, filled with both awe and desire.

“No, I'm planning to let you fuck me,” she replies in a teasing voice, the words like silk against his ear.

Lando exhales sharply, “Same thing.”

She laughs at his failed attempt to breathe normally, “Unless you want me to return the favor first?”

Lando shakes his head, his hands tightening on her hips as his gaze locks onto hers. “No,” he says in a definitive tone, his voice rough with want. “Need to be inside you.”

Her heart stutters at the intensity in his eyes, and she doesn’t hesitate when he lifts her slightly, positioning her over him. His hands grip her thighs firmly as he lowers her on his throbbing cock, inch by inch, the stretch stealing the air from both of their lungs. They moan in unison, their bodies adjusting to the sweet connection.

She doesn’t move right away. Instead, she rests her head on his shoulder, sighing deeply as her arms wrap around his neck. They stay like that, breathing together, their bodies perfectly still. Then, Lando presses his face into hers, his lips brushing her skin as if to remind himself how lucky he is.

His hands stroke her back, steady and reassuring, while they let the moment grow between them, until she breaks the silence.

“I love you, too,” she whispers against his shoulder, her voice filled with emotion.

Her words break something open in him, and he pulls her tighter against his chest, his hands sliding up to cradle the back of her head. “I know,” he replies softly. “I feel you.”

She starts to move then, her hips rolling tentatively, as if savoring every second of him. Lando’s hands guide her, his grip firm but gentle, his thumbs pressing into her waist to set a measured pace. The chair creaks softly beneath them, the quiet rhythm of their movements filling the space. Her lips part with every motion, her breath spilling out in uneven gasps as the pleasure builds slowly but surely.

Her body trembles above him, her thighs quivering as she moves, their pace instinctively increasing. There’s a grace to her movements, a natural rhythm that leaves Lando utterly hypnotized. She does it so effortlessly, driven not just by the guidance of his hands but by her own want and need.

His gaze is locked on her, drinking in every detail — the flush of her cheeks, the way her lips part with soft, breathless moans, the mesmerizing sway of her body. His eyes drop to her chest, captivated by the way her tits bounce with every rise and fall. His restraint snaps, and he leans forward without thinking, his mouth finding one of her nipples.

He wraps his lips around the sensitive peak, sucking gently at first before his tongue flicks against it. Her breath grows rapid, her movements faltering for just a brief second as her hands fly to his shoulders for balance. His hands tighten on her waist, his thumbs pressing into her soft skin as if urging her to keep going.

“Lando,” she breathes, her voice shaking with pleasure, the sound shooting straight through him. Her pace quickens again, spurred on by the heat of his mouth and the steady pressure of his hands guiding her. He groans against her skin, the vibration sending a shiver through her as the tension between them builds to a fever pitch. “Look at me,” she orders gently.

Lando lifts his head, her eyes meeting his, while his hands move on her hips.

“Fuck, you feel amazing. Taking it so well, baby,” he groans, his head falling back briefly before his gaze snaps back to hers. “Wanna have you like this everyday.”

Her walls flutter around him, drawing a strangled moan from his lips. Her thighs are burning from the effort, but she doesn’t stop. She’s driven by his words, and the way he looks at her, as if she’s his entire world.

The pressure inside her builds rapidly, her breath hitching with every movement. She leans forward, her lips brushing his ear. “Mhm, Lan,” she gasps, her voice barely audible. “Baby, I—I can’t—”

“You can, love,” he whispers fiercely, his voice both a command and a promise. “You can, come on,” he repeats. “Don’t you wanna be good for me, hm?”

All she can do is nod at him.

The tip of his cock presses so deeply inside her that it feels like he’s imprinted on her very soul, the sensation overwhelming and all-consuming. Her walls begin to squeeze him tightly, the pulsing waves of her climax gripping him with a force that borders on unbearable bliss. The pleasure is blinding, leaving her completely undone as her cries echo in the quiet room, her nails digging into his shoulders as she collapses against his chest.

Lando moans deeply, the sound rough and guttural, his body tense as he holds her trembling frame. Her pussy keeps hugging his length, pulling him deeper into her, and he feels the hot rush of her release spill over their joined bodies, making everything slick and impossibly intimate. Her hips jerk involuntarily, riding out the aftershocks, and he feels every tremor, every pulse, sending him spiraling toward his own breaking point.

He grips her tightly, his fingers pressing into her as he thrusts upward, his movements growing erratic and desperate. He’s lost in the way she feels around him, how perfectly she fits, how her body milks him without mercy.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he rasps as he chases the same release that’s stolen her breath. “Say yes, please. Let me fuck you like this everyday. Holy fucking shhhit.”

Her head rests against his shoulder, her lips brushing against his neck while she moans weakly as he fucks his cock deeper. It’s too much and not enough all at once, until he drives into her one final time before he lets go. A deep, shuddering moan escapes his throat as his release overtakes him, his cock throbbing inside her, filling her completely as his hips stutter against hers. He’s still holding her tightly, their bodies locked together, both of them shaking as the last waves of pleasure ripple through them, leaving them spent and sated in the afterglow.

The room gets silent again, except for their labored breathing.

Then, he finds the strength to finally speak, “Say yes?” asks Lando in a whispered voice, his lips brushing against her temple.

She lifts her head, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips as her eyes meet his. “We’ll talk about it.”

THE MORNING LIGHT filters through the edges of the curtains in Max’s gaming room, bathing the space in a muted gray.

Lando stirs first, his head lolling against the back of the chair as consciousness pulls him out of his sleep. His arms tighten instinctively around the warm weight sprawled on top of him; she’s still asleep, her cheek pressed to his bare chest, the soft rise and fall of her breathing steady and comforting.

As he shifts slightly to ease the stiffness in his back, she stirs too, nuzzling her face deeper against him with a sleepy hum.

“Hey,” Lando murmurs, his voice raspy from sleep, as his hand comes up to brush through her hair, his fingers threading lazily through the strands. His touch is warm and intimate, a silent comfort in the quiet morning.

But his hand doesn’t stop there, though. It drifts lower, skimming over her bare shoulder and along the curve of her chest. He cups her breast gently, his palm warm against her skin, and a contented sigh escapes him as his eyes fall closed again. His thumb brushes over her nipple, the gesture instinctive and tender, as if he’s memorizing every part of her even in his half-asleep state.

She lets out a little whimper, her eyes fluttering open just enough to squint up at him. “Too early,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against his skin, sighing at his touch.

Lando chuckles, “Pretty sure it’s almost lunch.”

She tilts her head up slightly, her sleepy gaze meeting his, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “Max is going to kill us. To death,” she says, managing to get another high-pitched chuckle out of him.

“Only if he catches us,” he replies, leaning his head back against the chair and grinning.

She laughs, “We better get out of here before he does, then.”

Reluctantly, they untangle themselves from the cocoon of the blanket draped over them and get dressed lazily. Lando’s eyes trail over her, unabashedly watching as she smooths her dress down and runs her fingers through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it.

“Stop staring,” she teases, turning to look at him as she gathers the blanket.

“Can’t help it,” he replies, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I’m actually so in love with you.”

“Shut up,” she huffs, her cheeks flushing a soft pink as she turns away, trying to avoid his gaze.

He steps closer, his hand brushing her arm to stop her. “Don’t hide. Let me see you,” he says softly, his tone playful but laced with sincerity.

She rolls her eyes but smiles, giving him a playful shove before turning to fold the blanket and place it neatly on the chair. But before she can move away, Lando grabs her wrist and tugs her back into his arms, wrapping them snugly around her waist. He looks down at her, his eyes still heavy with sleep but filled with a softness that makes her heart flutter.

She turns around, her fingers reaching up to lazily comb through his curls, smoothing the messy strands as if styling them would make him look any less irresistible. His lips quirk into a crooked smile, but before he can tease her, he leans in, capturing her mouth with his.

His morning kisses are warm and soft, unhurried and tender, as though time itself has paused just for them. His lips move against hers with a lazy, intoxicating rhythm, and her hands slide up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

When they finally pull back, her eyes flicker down to his lips, still swollen from their kiss. She presses her fingertips lightly against his mouth, silencing whatever playful remark he was about to make.

“Don’t ruin it,” she says, her voice teasing but low, and Lando smiles, his arms tightening around her.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers.

As they leave the room, Lando leans down to press one more kiss to her temple, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he gestures for her to go ahead of him. She glances back at him with a smirk but obliges, descending the stairs quietly.

The living room looks like a crime scene. Connor is sprawled across the couch, one arm hanging limply off the side, his face half-buried in a throw pillow. At his feet, Morgan is curled into a tight ball, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head. Ethan lies on the floor nearby, clutching a plush ball as if it’s a lifeline, his body surrounded by a meticulously arranged outline of plastic cups.

She stifles a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand as she looks back at Lando. In response, he shakes his head, his own lips twitching with amusement.

“Do you think someone planned the cup thing, or did Ethan just fall into it?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Knowing this lot, I’d bet on both,” Lando replies, his grin widening.

They tiptoe towards the coffee table, careful not to disturb the fragile peace as Lando starts looking for his phone and keys. The clinking of glass and the shuffle of objects are the only sounds until he accidentally knocks over an empty bottle, the crash breaking the silence like a firework.

Connor bolts upright on the couch, his wavy hair sticking out at odd angles as he squints blearily around the room. “Fuck’s sake, mate.”

From then on, the movement triggers a chain reaction.

Ethan startles, knocking over the cups around him with a cacophonous clatter that echoes through the house. Morgan stirs next, groaning loudly as he stretches out on the floor.

“Fuck outta here,” Morgan mumbles, his voice muffled by his hood.

Before anyone can fully process the chaos, Max appears in the living room, his hair disheveled and his face twisted in an expression of sleep-deprived annoyance. His gaze sharpens when he sees his friends, taking in their rumpled clothes, her hastily tied hair, and the suspiciously guilty expressions on both their faces. His brows knit together in dawning realization.

“I have one question, and then I’ll erase everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours from my memory,” Max points a finger between them, his gaze narrowing.

She stiffens, her eyes darting to Lando, who is already trying to concoct some sort of defense.

“In my new gaming room?”

The silence that follows is deafening, until Morgan breaks it. “Bet’s a bet, Maxy boy,” he calls after Max in a sleepy voice as he storms out, mumbling in disbelief.

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