Really need a Daniel hug đŤ
the full lean in head-on-shoulder hug that daniel gives..
He came, he slayed, he conquered.
18 millions in the bag â
Dirt bikes in the trunk â
Abnoxious karaoke â
Little dance while driving â
My babygirl is thrivingđ
Š to Daniel Ricciardo on Instagram
By far my fav @f1letters
đ
"what if I told you none of it was accidental?"
summary: it all started when she saw him across the room and she knew right away she wouldn't give up until he was hers
warning: overall fluff, lying reader (with the dumbest but funniest plan too lol), daddy issues, slut-shaming, mentions of alcohol, swearing, suggestive language, the beginning of the story takes place in 2021 when Carlos joined Ferrari (so it's all flashback for much of the story, including the 2021 Monaco GP)
pairing: carlos sainz x reader
word count: 3.8k
note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.
spanish words used: corazĂłn = heart; bebĂŠ = baby; ay Dios mĂo = oh my God; mi amor = my love; te quiero mucho = I love you so much
so I guess this week's theme is Scuderia Ferrari! haha, I hope all of you enjoy this one as always! I can't believe we are already on the 6TH STORY of the midnights series! thank you for all the love you have been giving me in the past weeks since I started, it means the world to me
masterlist
Once upon a time, the planets and the fates
And all the stars aligned
You and I ended up in the same room
At the same time
Once upon a time, in the beautiful city of Milan, dozens of people gathered at a gala dinner to celebrate the anniversary of the iconic racing team that was Scuderia Ferrari.
Like everything associated with the luxury Italian car manufacturer, the dinner was going to be a monumental and remarkable celebration. The red team never did anything less than big, so clearly, no costs had been spared to make the party the best it could be.
It had vintage cars on display, red carpets throughout the corridors, and walls covered in gold frames with images of the team's history over the decades. The ostentation was notable, from the table decorations in the characteristic Ferrari colours to the incredible reception and service of all employees of the gala.
Y/N couldn't believe all the beauty her eyes saw. The young woman almost felt dizzy trying to capture all the details that surrounded her.
Being the daughter of a very busy businessman, it wasn't the first time that the girl ended up having to represent him in business commitments due to his inability to attend. However, as someone who only played a small role in the company's finances, she still felt lost and out of place, especially at a dinner party the size of this one.
The weight on her shoulders of representing her father, one of the team's biggest investors and sponsors, was something that still scared her, no matter how many times she did it.
Y / N walked elegantly across the room, with the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor following her until she reached her table. Her name written on a glass plate indicated where she should sit and she did so, adjusting her long black silk dress so that it wouldn't get crumpled on the chair.
As time progressed, her table was filled with old and arrogant businessmen, more interested in talking about money and showing off their luxury. Y/N made small talk occasionally, but she obviously felt like an outsider.
My father would fit perfectly in here, she couldn't help but think. Critical of her as always, even without being in Italy, he managed to complain about her look for the evening, criticizing her choice of dress for not being red or yellow like the symbol of the Prancing Horse.Â
The young woman ended up giving in partially, painting her lips with a red lipstick that she had forgotten in her suitcase, seeking his approval, just like she had done all her life.
Her eyes roamed along the room in search of entertainment, so bored that watching others would be a far more interesting escape than listening to the men talk.
And that's when she saw him, in the same room, at the same time.
In all his splendour, Carlos Sainz, the promising Spanish driver who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari, immediately captured her attention. He was sitting at the bar, in a black suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly, fiddling with his phone, probably just as pleased to be there as she was.
All the stars aligned to bring them there at that moment, and Y/N was determined to take advantage of the chance of a lifetime given to her.
And the touch of a hand lit the fuse
Of a chain reaction of countermoves
To assess the equation of you
Checkmate, I couldn't lose
She sat there for a few minutes while she listed several potential ways to approach the driver.
Could she be straightforward and sit next to him at the bar and try to strike up a conversation? No, that wasn't a good idea. He wouldn't want some random girl bothering him at his first Ferrari show.Â
What if she waited for him to look her way and smile at him, or wave at him, something like that? Okay, that was ridiculous. If Carlos didn't look at her all night, Y/N was going to stay there forever staring at him like a stalker, only to go home disappointed.
The young woman needed an excuse to talk to him, something that would allow her to build a master plan that could not fail.
She couldn't lose. She couldn't let this chance pass.
Nothing was going to stop her.
He had to be hers.
And then it hit her, her 'a-ha!' moment. With a completely out-of-the-box idea, the girl got up from her chair, apologised to the people at the table for leaving, and confidently started her mission.
Carlos was sitting at the bar all alone, holding a whiskey in one hand while the other was scrolling through his Instagram feed, until out of nowhere he felt the touch of a small, soft hand on his big, rough one, catching him off guard.
"Sorry about that, but there's this weird guy who keeps bugging me. When I saw you alone, I told him my boyfriend was waiting for me as an excuse for him to leave me alone, I'm sorry." Y/N lied through her teeth and let out a nervous giggle as soon as she saw the Spaniard's shocked face.
Carlos couldn't help but notice the girl's charming figure and the way the dress fit her amazing body in all the right places, still in shock mode not knowing what to say.
Y/N noticed and released a smile. Her plan was kicking off and starting in full force. "I hope you don't have a girlfriend who is going to show up at any moment and pull my hair out for hitting on her man?" She said, laughing more confidently now.
"Don't worry. There is no girlfriend." He smiled at him, allowing their eyes to meet for the first time and squeezing her hand more securely. "So who's the creepy guy?"
"Oh." Oh fuck. Y/N did not expect this question at all. Panicking already about her lie being revealed, the woman impulsively looked over her shoulder and pointed at a random skinny man who had his back to them. "That guy over there, but I think I've already lost him."
Carlos looked in the direction she pointed and a discreet smirk formed on his face. He looked back at the girl and without releasing her hand from his hold, he spoke. "So, what's your name, corazĂłn?"
What if I told you none of it was accidental?
And the first night that you saw me
Nothing was gonna stop me
I laid the groundwork, and then
Just like clockwork
The dominoes cascaded in a line
Though the beginning of the couple's story had been anything but accidental, for the rest of that night, they were all about each other. Attached at the hip, they eventually moved to the driver's table, cocktails in their hands, and just talked for hours on end about everything and anything: from how nervous he was about joining a racing team with a history like Ferrari's, to why she was at that gala, even if she didn't look like one of the normal guests at these celebrations.
The fiery chemistry between them was noticeable to anyone who laid eyes on them, and with him being the hot new addition to the team, countless people were curious about the pair.
The two felt like children again, so much was the joyful enthusiasm that grew inside them. They didn't know if it was something physical or psychological that was happening to them but one thing they both believed: it was something magical.
But love at first sight has these foolish things: for those lucky enough to experience it, it only happens once in a lifetime and it's something that stays with them until the end of time.
After a while, Carlos excused himself to go to the bathroom and Y/N knew it was time to get the second phase of her master plan in order.
When the driver came back, the woman was nowhere to be seen. It was almost as if she were a mirage, a figment of his imagination that simply vanished into thin air.
He looked for her, looking all around the splendorous dining room, but there was no sign of her. What do you mean she left him alone after all the chemistry that was created between the two throughout that night?
It was as he turned back to the table that Carlos noticed the red napkin folded over his plate. Carefully, he picked it up and unfolded it, finding a phone number and the girl's name written in black ink, along with a clumsy heart at the bottom of the note.
If she had planned to have him completely fascinated by her and wanting to see her again more than anything else, she had succeeded.
What if I told you I'm a mastermind?
And now you're mine
It was all by dĐľsign
'Cause I'm a mastermind
The very next day Carlos gained the courage to text her and make his move since the pawns were now on his side.
From: Unknown
I have a paddock pass with your name on it as my guest waiting for you. Monaco, next Sunday. Hope to see you there, bebĂŠ - CS
Her heartbeat immediately sped up as she read that message. However, there was no time to waste.
The show must go on. She had a man to win. Putting her brave face back on, the young woman took a deep breath and decided to send a text playing hard to get, trying to entertain the curiosity he had in getting to know her better.
To: Carlos Sainz
I guess you'll have to wait and see if I show up...
You see, all the wisĐľst women
Had to do it this way
'Cause we were born to be the pawn
In every lover's game
Sunday morning came in the blink of an eye.
Y/N woke up with the sunlight hitting the window of her hotel room. She got up right away, put on a robe and went to the entrance to the balcony to observe the breathtaking view of Monte Carlo.
The girl could barely contain the butterflies of anticipation that she had in her stomach, anxious to see again the Spaniard who controlled all her thoughts since the gala where they met.
During the days until the race weekend arrived, the couple exchanged messages all the time. Not only did it allow them to get to know each other better, but it also took their relationship to a new level, with the two of them now openly flirting, not afraid to reveal their mutual interest in each other.
Y/N went to her wardrobe and carefully chose her outfit for the day, selecting a simple white jumpsuit and silver open heels.Â
She knew that her presence would be noticed, thanks to the importance of her last name, something that worried her a lot. Not because of Carlos, but because of what her father would say.
The businessman had heard from some of his associates about his daughter's interaction with the driver during the Italian team's anniversary, which led to a huge argument between them. Y/N's father expressed his disappointment in (what he thought was) his daughter's lack of professionalism, going so far as to accuse her of being a disgrace to the family name for acting like a 'slut'.
Nothing out of the ordinary for him. The young woman could no longer take the things he said to heart, with so many criticisms and low expectations her dad had of her.
She wasn't going to stop living because of him, especially when it put at risk her relationship with a man as spectacular as Carlos.
Going against her father's orders, Y/N got on their private plane and flew towards Monaco without giving him any explanation of where she was going.
After she finished getting ready, the woman looked at her reflection in the mirror and one of Carlos' many texts echoed in her thoughts: your red lipstick drove me completely crazy to kiss you in Milan. And with that came the next step in her master plan. She took the same lipstick and applied it over her lips.Â
Carlos wouldn't be able to resist.
If you fail to plan, you plan to fail
Strategy sets the scene for the tale
I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails
And the liquor in our cocktails
Y/N got into her rented black Ferrari parked outside the hotel and drove the short distance to the circuit. Did she need to have such an ostentatious car with her? No, she didn't. But why not take advantage of her connections with the team to entice the man who was waiting for her?
Arriving at the parking lot, the engine of her car caught the attention of the people who were there. Photographers began to direct their cameras in her direction, flashes going off, waiting to know who was behind the smoked windows driving.
As soon as she got out of the vehicle, she could hear whispers: who was she, where was her father, was she a guest of Scuderia Ferrari, did she have an affair with one of the drivers.
Putting on her sunglasses to protect herself from the sun as well as the flashes, Y/N lifted her head and started to walk confidently towards the entrance where she knew her pass had been left by Sainz and was waiting for her.
On the other side of the paddock, Carlos became aware of the commotion that was settling in at the entrance, wondering which celebrity had arrived this time. Although he was still hopeful, the driver didn't know yet if his dream girl was going to show up.
Seconds later, his colleague Charles approached him and the two sat on two piles of tires, talking about the race that was going to start in half an hour until Monaco's home hero interrupted the conversation.
"Mate, isn't that your girl?" Leclerc, now in on the subject after Carlos told him everything about that night, asked when he saw a figure in white approach their motorhome, with a sea of photographers following close behind her.
"Ay Dios mĂo, she came." Carlos spoke aloud, blurting out his thoughts as his brain seemed to shut down with the image of her.
Y/N was now mere steps away from the boy and looked directly into his eyes, giving him a sly smile, almost like a scheming criminal plotting something.
With his eyes still locked on her, as if she were the only person in the world at that moment, Carlos watched as she walked right past him into the motorhome, not saying a word to him.
Just a gentle touch on his hand, like she did at the bar on that memorable night.
"Good luck with her, mate." Charles' laughter echoed in the Spaniard's ears as the Monegasque left, leaving Sainz standing there, speechless, all alone.
Carlos woke up from his trance when he felt the flashes on him. The photographers. They sure took pictures of their little moment there.
Oh, she was trouble.
What if I told you none of it was accidental?
And the first night that you saw me
I knew I wanted your body
I laid the groundwork, and then
Just like clockwork
The dominoes cascaded in a line
The man followed her path and entered Ferrari's home, immediately seeing her alone, leaning against one of the walls and concentrating on her phone.
Quickly, the driver reached near her and grabbed her hand, pulling her with him into his driver's room.
On the other hand, the girl hadn't even realized what was happening to her when her back made contact with a wall inside a small room and she heard the door close in a hurry.
The image in front of her left her feeling equally shy and wanting more. Carlos placed both hands on the wall next to her head, making it impossible for her to break free from his hold.
"You're playing with fire, corazĂłn." Carlos moved dangerously close to her, allowing her to feel his warm breath on her neck. "Coming in here teasing me like that."
"Me? Teasing? Never." Y/N replied, running her hand over the fireproof garment that covered the man's toned chest.Â
"You're lucky I spent all this time waiting for you to come." He lifted his head, making eye contact with the girl. "You make me lose all control, bebÊ, I swear. Since the first night I saw you, I've wanted your body."
One of the driver's hands left the wall and he brought it to the young woman's cheek, letting his thumb run gently across her lower lip.
"That red lipstick again." Sainz reduced the distance between them even further, letting his own mouth graze over hers. "You're doing it on purpose."
"What if I am?" She spoke, giving him a look that was a perfect mixture of innocent and provocative.
Carlos glanced at the watch on his wrist for just a second, turning his attention back to her right away. "Then I guess I still have time to show you what happens when I lose control."
Although he ended up in second place in that race, almost reaching the top of the podium, Carlos left Monaco feeling like a winner after that half hour between those four walls.
Nothing would ever make him feel on top of the world like her on top of him.
What if I told you I'm a mastermind?
And now you're mine
It was all my design
'Cause I'm a mastermind
More than a year and a half later, and with the 2022 Formula 1 season now over, Y/N and Carlos were still together and happier than ever.
They overtook everything that came their way, only to get back stronger.
Her father obviously hadn't taken their relationship well from the start, leading the girl to quit the company and cut off contact with him for months on end. only now trying to make amends. Only now, more than a year later, the two were trying to make amends and reconnect, since the businessman contacted her to apologize for everything he had put her through during her life.
The media was also a difficult step to overcome. For a long time, they insisted on invading their privacy due to the business connections between both sides. It was tricky to strike a balance between not being a secret and keeping their relationship to themselves at the same time. But eventually, the two of them managed to get there with the experience that time brought.
Now, the couple was lying in their bed, in the house they had recently bought together in Milan, a city so special to them and that symbolized the beginning of their story.
Being there, in silence, holding each other, with the room lit only by the light coming from the fireplace. That meant the world to them. Those were the kind of moments they cherished the most, especially in such a relationship that required a lot of work with how much he travelled during most of the year.
The young woman was lost in the memories of the past, daydreaming about the beginning of their history, when Carlos intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss on the top of her head.
He was hers.
Just like she designed it like the mastermind she was.
No one wanted to play with me as a little kid
So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since
To make them love me and make it seem effortless
This is the first time I've felt the need to confess
And I swear
I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian
'Cause I care
Perhaps moved by her trip down memory lane, for the first time in their relationship, Y/N felt the sudden need to confess.
Her palms got sweaty as soon as she started to think of all the scenarios that could result from her confession. What if he didn't want her anymore? Would it be worth it to risk an argument over a detail about the day they met?
"Mi amor, what's wrong?" Carlos asked as he felt the heat and sweat between their clasped hands, sitting down on the bed with his body lightly over hers.
"What if I told you none of this was accidental?"Â She asked nervously, earning back a laugh from her boyfriend's mouth.
"Sorry bebĂŠ, but you've lost me now." He confessed.
"The first night that you saw me. I planned the whole thing. There wasn't a creepy guy trying to hit on me. I lied to get you to talk to me." Wasting no time, Y/N let the words out of her mouth before the courage to speak again disappeared.
So I told you none of it was accidental
And the first night that you saw me
Nothing was gonna stop me
I laid the groundwork, and then
Saw a wide smirk on your face
You knew the entire time
Y/N put both hands over her face to hide and avoid seeing the driver's reaction to her admission.
Carlos, on the other hand, could only chuckle as he brought his hands to his partner's wrists in order to expose her face again.
The young woman opened her eyes slowly in fear, only to be faced with a wide smirk on his face as he looked at her as if she had told the greatest joke in the world.
"I'm being serious, babe. I swear it's the truth." She stressed, remaining with her back flat on the mattress and with her boyfriend's body now fully against hers.
"Ay mi corazĂłn, te quiero mucho." Carlos let out a loud laugh and held her face, placing a quick kiss on her lips to calm her down. "I knew the entire time."
"What?" She asked in shock, sitting on the bed and forcing the boy to sit with her.
"You know the random man you said was the perv?" Y/N nodded in response to Sainz's question. "It was my cousin Carlos. He had been with me all night until I went to the bar to get a drink."
Oh. My. God.
Y/N was never going to show up at the next Sainz family gathering.
You knew that I'm a mastermind
And now you're mine
Yeah, all you did was smile
'Cause I'm a mastermind
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A GENUINE PIECE OF ART
Iâm so exciiiteddd
One of a kind. Pt.2
Lando norris x RICCIARDO!reader
Tw: swearing, bad Italian,
My master's list
Part 1
A/n :sorry it took so long also @astars-things and @stopandgopenalty tysm đ
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
There's a knocking on your door. "God what time even is it" you thought yourself. Shit. If you're phone wasn't wrong, it was already 2pm. You run up to the door as soon as possible.
"just woke up?" Lando look at you with smirk.
"yep" you sighed. You slowly scanned him leaving and awkward silence. He was wearing his quadrant hoodie like always with black trousers. He looked like he just woke up too but His hair was some how more perfect than ever. He suddenly crouched a little down to match to your eye level "you still here?"
"yeah sorry."
"third time I caught you doing that" he chuckled.
"doing what?" You asked in genuine confusion. "Staring at me, might even say 'checking me out' " he said jokingly. You start feeling your face lighting up. You cover your face and mentally scream for a second before mumbling, "sorry".
"anyways, meet me at the lobby at 6:00, I'll be waiting" he said while giving you a smile. "Mhm, okay" you said as he closed the door. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You didn't even know if you have a good outfit. You looked through your clothes and found a nice pair of dress trousers but no shirt. You quickly went down to your brother's room and rang the bell. "Hi y/n anything you need?" He peeked through the door.
"I need a shirt, like a going out shirt"
"can I ask why?"
"going out with lando... Don't get it wrong though!" You point at him," It's not a date, he just wants to make up for giving a bad first impression." You said in a panic.
"well if you say so, come in" he said in a annoyed voice. You ran in and looked for a shirt. "Perfect." You grabbed one of Daniel's black button up shirt. "God do you not iron your shirts Dan?".
"You're the only one who irons my shirts" he said chuckled
"my days." You sighed. " Well I'm gonna go now " you ran towards the door.
Thank god he didn't say anything about it, You thought to yourself. You took a long bath to calm yourself from the excitement. you didn't even have any idea where you guys were going, or if this was a date.
Shit, it was already 3:30 the bath took way too long. You still needed to do your make up and your hair and not to forget, iron the shirt. Now starting to do your makeup, you got all kinds of thoughts of the date. A little, intrusive you might say. How he might ... You know.
Pulling away from the thoughts, you finish your makeup. thankfully it was one of your good hair day so you could move on to your outfit.
You looked at Daniel's shirt and saw the 'dr3' logo embroidered on it. You couldn't help but smile at it. This still forgive him on never ironing his shirt though. Looking into the mirror, you got yourself ready to go down to the lobby.
Already, the butterflies were going crazy in your stomach. As the doors of the elevator, you saw the boy waiting from the corner of your eyes. He saw you as soon as you walked out of the elevator he ran up to you and gave you a half hug. "You look great" he complimented.
"you do too" he seemed flustered by the comment and lit up. You couldn't help but giggle at him.
"so where we heading to?" You asked
"You'll see soon" he linked his finger to yours and started to head to the parking lot. He opened the door of his rental car for you like one of those cheezy couples. it was one of those fancy McLarens that the company rented off to him. "Slow down lando You're going to go over the speed limit" you scholded.
"sorry mom" he mocked at you jokingly and sped up even more for a second just to taunt you.
"seriously stop" you giggled.
As the golden hour hit, the golden ray shot down into the windows shining onto Lando. He looked like a photo or a painting ; he didn't seem real. His eyes turned into a lovely shade of hazel and teal and his lips, God. It looked so good.
"do I look that pretty?" He asked breaking the silence
"..sure" you blurted out quickly as you became flustered by the sudden question. He chuckled for a little while then said, "we're almost there". Arriving in the parking lot, you saw the dare you say most beautiful tiny restaurant. It was like a little hut, or a cottage it had a little flower garden next to it and everything.
"Do you like it? Pick it myself." He smiled as he reversed the car to park. And yes, he did put his arm around your seat while reversing. (đŤ˘) Again, he opened the door for you and helped you get out of the car. "Where'd you even find this place?"
"some researching and a little help from the gas man"
"gas man??" You couldn't help but laugh
"I mean Gasly, I picked it up from Daniel" he laughed with you.
"sounds like something he would say."
"yeah nah the gas man" he imitated Daniel's accent.
"that was pretty similar" you smiled
"I've been working on it" he said proudly. The joking aside, you admired the cottage again before entering. Inside was some how even more beautiful. It was cozy with paintings and fairy lights.
"ah, lei è il signor Norris?Are you Mr Norris?" The server asked Lando.
"sĂŹ" he answered confidently with a smile.
"I'm charlie, welcome to la piccola capanna. Just call me whenever you want to order"
"Pierre said the gnocchi and the calzones are really good." He said as he read the menu. You read through the menu with honestly, there was at least 7 things you wanted to eat. You'd been craving all kinds of Italian food the moment you step foot on Monza. "These all sound so good I can't choose." You whined like a kid. Lando let out a small chuckle "I'll probably have the Spaghetti alla Napoletana"
"I'll just have the gnocchi then." You came up with something random " mi scusi, potremmo ordinare per favore. excuse me could we order please." you called for the waiter.
"si, cosa vorresti?would you like to order?"
"ehm, una Spaghetti alla Napoletana per lui e gli gnocchi per me grazie a Spaghetti alla Napoletana for him and a gnocchi for me thank you" you said fluently in one quick swift.
"sarĂ preparato subito will be prepared right away" the waiter said as he walked away.
"I've completely forgotten that you and Daniel both are half Italian" he said in awe. He looked genuinely mind blown making you laugh.
"sei serio? are you serious?" You asked in the thickest Italian accent . Lando started wheezing and laughing at your accent. "Anyways, , how does Pierre know this place." You switched the subject.
"he went out with a Italian chick and found this place."
"yeah obviously" you scoffed in your breath thinking about Pierre.
"did he ask you out or something" he teased
"he tried to, Daniel stopped him though. Absolutely hilarious." You laughed. Lando was actually really fun to hang out with you though to yourself. Talking away, you guys chatted for ages before finishing your food. "Should we start heading out now?" He asked as he finished eating his food. Lando paid for the meal and got up to leave. When you two got out of the restaurant the breeze hit you to now with the sun set and the moon fully out. " Do you want to go for a drive" you nodded at his question.
Lando drove through the town seeing the night views. As he made a sharp turn he put his hand on your thigh. You jumped a bit as you were expecting that and he quickly put his hand away too. "Sorry I- I usually put my hand on the passenger seat when I make a turn and.." he startled himself too when he put his hand on you.
".. it's okay" You didn't really know what to say. You could clearly tell he did enjoy it though he was startled. As he put his hand on the cup holder, you guided his hand onto your thigh again. He squeezed it gently as he made the next turn. Your mind was going blank from the excitement.
Now seeing the hotel, The 30 minute ride felt like only a few minutes. You honestly wanted it to last longer but you could only dream. Next thing you know you two were walking up to your own rooms.it was a bit disappointing but it was only the second day of knowing him. it was clear that he was disappointed too.Nonetheless, you hugged him goodbye and went to your separate rooms.
What a bummer. you thought as you got out of the bathroom after a shower. You heard a faint groaning from next door. "Fucking hell y/n".
Was he really thinking of you?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
A/n : sorry for the similar ending as part one but you know the next part is gonna be spicy. đ
PLOT TWIST
Lando is actually the one running the account đŤ˘
The ultimate fic ! đ
đď¸ in which, your brotherâs best friend becomes a little more than your teammate.
đď¸ pairing: enemy!lando x carlos.sister!reader
đď¸ warnings 9.2k words of slowburn, smut and mixed emotions
đď¸ lovely request that took me literally a month to finish. hope you enjoy x
âY/N, come down. Landoâs here.â
Your home in Monaco has always been your comfort place. Itâs always quiet, always peaceful, it helps you detach from the harsh reality of having a bitchy teammate who, despite being your brother's best friend, hates you.
So, when you hear Carlos call for you from the hallway, youâre rolling your eyes at the feeling of peace being torn from you by the mention of your rivalâs name.
You jog down the stairs and watch as Lando glances at you from the kitchen, the tiniest look of irritation on his face. Carlos is making him a cup of tea and you sit down on the island beside the sink.
âYou didnât tell me Lando would be coming over.â You watch as your brotherâs eyes lock onto yours.
âI didnât.â He shrugs. âBut itâs my home, so who I invite shouldnât be an issue.â
You roll your eyes. âItâs not, unless youâre inviting Lando.â
Lando clears his throat from right behind you, finding a seat at the other side of the island. âIâm right here, by the way.â
âI wish you werenât.â You mumble, hopping off the island and getting ready to go back to your room. Carlos calls your name before you can make it up the first step of the staircase. âWhat?â You ask, annoyed.
âThe season starts next week, I assume youâve been informed about the celebratory party tomorrow evening?â
âI have.â You lean against the railing of the stairs. âWhy?â
âLandoâs joining us.â Carlos states, placing the warm cup of tea in front of Lando. Your eyes examine the look on his face and you canât help to notice that your brother is completely serious. Lando seems to have that same conclusion when his mouth parts to retaliate.
âNo, Iâm not.â
A sigh slips past Carlosâ lips, his head tilting back and eyes closed, irritation painting every single one of his sharp features. âYes, you are.â
âThatâs unfair. Iâm not going.â You declare, arms crossed over your chest. Landoâs eyes glanced at you for a moment, gaze lingering on the way your tits looked cute pushed up like that. He shakes his head, as if to rid it of that thought. Nice attempt, considering it didnât work.
âMe neither.â Lando says, agreeing with you for once.
Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated. âBoth of you are so childish. Itâs a work party, not something random you can skip.â
âBut-â You sigh, not getting into more arguments. The parties are usually hosted at clubs big enough to get lost in, so even if you did go, thereâs a low chance youâd interact with Lando throughout the night. That thought alone calms you down, distracting you from the fact that the man in question will be staying at your home for a few days. âFine.â
Carlos smiles at you with a pleasant look on his face and you roll your eyes at both of the men before jogging back up the stairs. You can hear their voices fading into the background as you shut your bedroom door behind yourself, going back to whatever you were doing earlier.
Thereâs at least another three hours of uninterrupted peace, before you hear footsteps making their way up the stairs. It wouldnât make sense for Carlos to be up here, since his bedroom is on the first floor, which means that the loud footsteps youâre hearing belong to none other than Lando himself. You canât help but roll your eyes at that. He canât seem to do anything peacefully, in race or not.
You peel your eyes away from the book in your lap and focus your attention on Landoâs noises in the hallway. He steps closer and closer to your bedroom door, and you can tell heâs about to barge in, but he notices the light coming from under the door and steps away.
Lando runs a hand down his face as he tries his best to navigate his way through your house. He opens the door thatâs right beside your room and finds out that itâs the bathroom. The next door he opens is a walk-in closet and he groans in frustration. âThe fuck do they need so many rooms for.â He mumbles under his breath.
His home back in England isnât anything short of fancy, but itâs surely not a maze. He opens the next door and, to his surprise, itâs yet another bathroom.
âItâs the door in front of my room.â Your head poked out through your bedroom door and Lando turned around to face you, his eyes turning darker with a coldness to them.
Lando walks to the door you were aiming your finger at. His fingers grip the handle and when the door swings open, he sees that it is, in fact, his room. He notices the small smirk on your lips. âI knew that.â
You canât help but laugh at him trying to play it off cool. âOf course you did.â
The kitchen tiles are cold underneath your bare feet.
Youâre rummaging your fridge for something to eat. Having Lando in the house means youâre locked away in your own room, avoiding him at all costs. Which also meant that you denied dinner, saying you werenât hungry even when your brother persisted.
There was no way in hell youâd eat dinner at the same table as Lando Norris. Not in your own home, at least.
You grabbed an armful of ingredients and set them down on the cupboard beside the stove. Bowls and utensils messily scatter the kitchen island and youâre close to finished with your dinner when a creak of the stairs pulls you out of your peacefulness. Once again, Landoâs the culprit.
âWhatâre you doing?â He cocks his head to the side at the sight of messy dishes and the sound of jazz quietly playing through the kitchen.
You roll your eyes as you plate your food. âMaking dinner.â
âAt eleven p.m.?â He slips his phone back in his pocket after checking the time.
âAre you judging me, Norris?â
Lando shrugs. âNo, just curious. Carlos made food a few hours ago, but you were too stuck up to join us. And I bet itâs because of me.â
You hate how right he is and you curse yourself for your surprised face, giving away that he was right. His lips curl up at the sides and form into a small smirk. âAnd? I think itâs obvious I donât like having you here.â
âIâd say I donât like being here, but Carlos has been nice to me, so Iâm actually enjoying my stay.â Landoâs eyes follow you as you take a seat at the dining table, him choosing to sit opposite of you. After a moment of silenceâ which you wished would last for as long as Landoâs staying with youâ he spoke. âYâknow, I never understood you.â
You can tell heâs taunting you, yet still you choose to look up from your plate with a raised brow. The shape of his toned biceps bulging as his arms cross over his chest and he sits back in the chair distracts you from the small smirk on his face.
âYouâve always had something against me. Ever since karting days.â He muses, eyes interrogating and narrowed on your confused face. âCarlos never told me anything about it, so I assumed it mustâve been a family secret. Maybe the Sainz just hated my family name.â
You snort at the conclusion. âMy dad barely knows who you are, donât flatter yourself.â
âIâm not.â Heâs quick to defend himself, his voice monochrome and calm. âI think the only reason you hate me is because you feel inferior to me. Which, if I must say, is completely understandable, given that I am better than you in any way, shape or form.â
You stare at him with disbelief. Was he being serious or was this his way of trying to befriend you? Heâs making a complete fool of himself with that little rant of his, which you werenât even sure what it was about. Half of that was complete nonsense, considering you are the one winning races left, right and centre. âWhat are you talking about?â
âYou know exactly what Iâm talking about.â He sneers, leaning closer to you across the table. You feel his gaze on your face, studying and focused, as if he was trying to get under your skin. But to no avail.
You finish up your food and pick your plate up, getting ready to walk away. âYouâre delusional, Norris. Last time I checked, you hated me first and for no reason, so thereâs no need for you to try and study my behaviour, when you should reflect on yours.â
And with that, you walk back to the kitchen, leaving Lando sitting alone in the dining room, a small smirk plastered on his face.
The blasting music of the club, paired with the luminescent lights and LEDs lining the ceiling made you that much more excited to get drunk.
The atmosphere of the building was unlike any other place you had attended F1 parties at. It was less formal, therefore more crowded and cosy. The bar caught your eye immediately upon arrival, and you made a beeline to it.
You had every intention to swallow more alcohol than you know can handle, to feel the aching bitterness in the back of your throat from the shots you know youâll do, to feel your brain get dizzy with your drunkenness.
Ordering a round of shots for you and some other drivers, you made your way to the table your brother chose to occupy. You gently placed the tray with twelve shot glasses on the table, before placing yourself between Max and Daniel.
Each man picks up a shot glass, raising it up in the air with a small salute, before downing it all without a chaser. You put your glass back and noticed one of them untouched.
âLando, mate.â Charles calls for him, seemingly able to pull the Brit out of his focus on his phone. âYou didnât do a shot.â
Lando shook his brown head of curls. âDonât wanna.â
Your brother simply shrugged when you made brief eye contact, raising your eyebrows in surprise. Then, you grabbed Lando's shot glass and downed it, bringing it to your lips in a "cheers."
Daniel grinned widely as you placed the glass back, his arm around the back of the sofa as he told you how Lando stopped drinking alcohol a few months ago, after some epiphany about drinking.
You knew that was wrong, because Lando downed each bottle of champagne he had after winning second place to you, especially the race he nearly won in Abu Dhabi right before the break. It felt silly whenever heâd be on the podium with you, because thatâs the only time you could really feel his deep hatred for you.
With spurts of champagne escaping his bottle, Lando would spray anyone but you.
Itâs not that big of a deal, honestly. You prefer it that way, as your suit doesnât soak in as much of the smell as it would if Lando contributed to drowning you as a celebration.
Your eyes scan the room, watching all the other drivers having a fun time on the dance floor. Daniel sprung to his feet upon hearing his name fall from your lips, watching as you extended a hand and he took it almost instantly. You turn around and down your third shot before dragging Daniel into the crowd of strangers and drivers, limbs in the air as they dance to the music.
The lack of space on the dance floor forced you to dance a little closer to Daniel. You were intoxicated but not enough to ignore the way his fingers snaked around your waist. Daniel's hands wrapping around you melted your insides to mush, blood pouring to your cheeks and staining them crimson.
The view of you two made Landoâs blood boil.
He hated it. Hated every bit of watching you dance against his ex-teammate, as if itâs some sort of tactic to make Lando pissed. He notices the glimmer in your eye when you look at Daniel and briefly look back at Lando, some feeling of jealousy planting itself in the pit of his stomach. Whatever youâre doing, itâs working.
Landoâs eyebrows sit low on his forehead, crease in the middle of them as he tries his best not to look at you two. He canât help it, though. Youâre in his peripheral vision and his eyes seem to follow you everywhere, seeming to have a mind of their own.
âOh, fuck no.â Carlosâs Spanish accent rings in Landoâs ears as he watches his best friend stand up and make his way to the dance floor. A small smirk paints itself across Landoâs features, seeing Carlos practically pull Daniel away from you.
Daniel comes back to the table with his tail between his legs, shoulders slumped and head hung low in faux guilt. He downs his second shot before sitting down beside Max.
âDidnât work?â Max asks, accepting Danielâs offering of going outside for some air. âI told you he wouldnât let you.â
Lando hears their conversation as they walk away. Daniel says heâs still got the whole night to convince Carlos that heâs good enough for you, and that thought alone pierces Landoâs chest, for whatever reason.
You notice the absence of Daniel and Max at the table, finally left alone by your older brother. Carlos is protective of you and itâs sweet, but it gets too much. There was no chance you were sleeping with Daniel, but having a little fun doesnât hurt, right?
Carlos is convinced it does hurt, heâs convinced every guy youâve ever spoken to wants to hurt you by being so sweet. Maybe thatâs why heâs not so adamant you stay away from Lando. He knows Lando seems like heâd do anything to hurt you, but through the eight years of their friendship, Lando hasnât laid a single hand on you.
Not since karting days, anyway.
You and Lando were wild as children. Evil grins decorating your lips as you got ready to tease each other by pushing one another into the barricades of the track. Karting was fun and took little effort, now that you look back on it, but you were small and it took a toll on you every time Lando would get in your way.
It got so annoying that, one time, you got out of your kart and jumped onto his, strangling him in the process as you tried to sabotage whatever he would have achieved that day.
You learnt not to do that if you wanted to keep your seat in the team. Thatâs when Lando began having his fun, knowing you couldnât do anything physically to him anymore. He started poking fun at you, making sure to really get under your skin to the point where your fists were held so tightly your knuckles turned white, but you wouldnât lunge at him like you used to.
Everyone thought it was something youâll grow out of, but Lando kept having his fun even after both of you got into Formula One.
You thought heâd mature, but as he once told your brother, heâs happy where he is and seems to have no intention of changing his behaviour with you.
Recently, heâs been reconsidering it.
He thinks about you more than heâd like to admit. Hell, he could never admit it out loud, even if he wanted to. Lando feels as though heâs ruined any chance of you seeing him as anything other than a rival. He doubts youâd want to know him beyond whatâs said on his Wikipedia page, anyway.
Not that heâs read yours, or anything. He doesnât need to. Landoâs known you for enough time to remember the small details. And your brother rambling about your stupid mistakes surely added onto the mental notes Lando kept of you.
All it took was to observe you to fall in love.
Lando shakes that thought out of his head, watching as his two friends come back from getting fresh air. Carlos has been talking to Charles, and to Lando, about something to do with the new car for Ferrari, but Lando was far too busy watching the way the skirt of your dress caressed your thighs as your fingers slowly lifted it up in sync to the lyrics of whatever song was playing.
There was no reason for Lando to get up as fast as he did. The other guys at the table looked unamused as Lando made his way to the DJs table, asking if he could play around for a bit. The DJ, clearly shocked that Lando Norris was speaking to him, immediately agreed and let him take over.
First thing Lando did? Change the fucking song.
He couldnât bear seeing you reveal the tender skin of your thighs to every stranger in this god damned room. He felt as if he deserved to be the only one to see it, even though he wasnât. Let a boy dream.
Your eyes scanned the room to find the DJs table, confused as to why the song was changed, and when you found it, they rolled to the back of your head. Of course Lando would be behind your ruined fun. When your eyes meet his, you get even more irritated by the dumb smirk on his face. You have half a mind to go wipe it off his face, either with your fist or with your lips. Both would work.
Landoâs eyes follow your figure as he messes around with the songs, his only focus being you and the glimpse of the back of your legs as you sit at the bar. He watches as you order a drink, the bartender winking at you as he places the drink in front of you. Lando rolls his eyes, going back to entertaining the people on the dance floor.
You feel a chill run down your spine, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation going on between you and the bartender. Carlos, as if he had a feeling, comes up from behind you and pulls you away by your arm. This was one of the rare moments you were thankful for his interruption.
He brings you back to the table and you sit between Max and Daniel again, watching as they down another round of shots they ordered. You quickly finished your margarita, joining the men and taking a shot glass into your hands.
âSlow down, y/n.â Carlos warns, a hint of worry tainting his stern voice. You look right at him as you press the glass to your lips before throwing your head back and downing it. Carlos rolls his eyes before doing the same.
It's another hour of you sitting by the table and talking to them about whatever topics you decided to dissect. It started off with Daniel asking about your last season, Max continuing and somehow talking about his cats, Charles started rambling about his interest in piano and you rambled about Carlosâ inability to cook pasta without leaving it rock solid (to which Charles could relate.)
âYou wanna get some fresh air?â Daniel nudges you with his elbow, your eyes following Max and him as they get up. You rise to your feet and Carlos is too drunk to mind you leaving with his two friends, so you quickly swivel between the drunk strangers and outside through the backdoor. Youâre sure thatâs not allowed, but Max opened it for you and you couldnât resist.
Daniel leans back against the brick wall of the neighbouring building while Max stands by the door, his foot keeping it open so youâre not locked out. You squat down and copy Danny, leaning back against the wall with your head raised high.
Max is the first to break the silence. âWhyâs Carlos so protective of you?â
âDunno.â You shrug, the too-many shots finally getting to your head. âHeâs just⌠I donât know. I guess itâs what a big brother does.â
âRight.â Daniel nods, yet his head still cocks to the side. âWhy doesnât he do that with Lando?â
You snort at the question. âDoes Lando dance with me or wrap his arms around my waist in a crowd of strangers?â
âWell, no. But he looks at you like heâs in love, or something.â Max points out. You canât tell if itâs his drunken state thatâs causing him to speak such nonsense, so once again, you canât help but giggle at that.
âRight.â
A new silence settles in and youâre enjoying the fresh air, feeling how the coldness of winter is slowly creeping away and the warmth of spring replaces it.
The door is pushed open and Max nearly falls on you when Lando bursts outside. He looks at Daniel, then Max, and when his frantic eyes finally land on you, his gaze softens. âGet up.â
Your mouth opens to reply with denial, but the look on Landoâs face as he holds the door open for you makes you immediately rise to your feet. When you approach him, he softly grabs your arm and pulls you inside, Daniel and Max giving each other a knowing look.
âWhere are we going?â You yell for Lando to hear over the loud music. He leads you both to the table where he hands you your purse and continues to pull you with him. âLando!â
âHome.â Is all he says, and heâs dragging you outside through the front door, making his way to his car. You donât protest, intrigued with the igniting feeling of his touch on your skin. It sends sparks through your body, making you more dizzy than the alcohol did.
He opens the passenger seat door for you and helps you in. Youâre about to reach for the seatbelt when you feel Lando reach over and buckle you up, his chest at eye-level and you canât help but catch a peek of his bare chest through his unbuttoned shirt. Lando notices your eyes soak in the view of him, your eyebrows raising just a tad before you look away.
When Lando gets into the driver's seat, he turns to you as if he wanted to say anything, but when he notices you looking out the window, seemingly upset, he drops it and starts the car.
The car ride is quiet for the first five minutes, before he breaks the silence. âYou shouldnât have drank so much.â
Your already annoyed self turns to face him. âYou dragged me home early and now youâre parenting me?â
Lando sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. âIâm not parenting you. Iâm just⌠looking out for you.â The look on his face wants to seem like heâs kidding or teasing, but shades of his genuine feelings shine through.
âWhy the fuck would you do that?â You ask, trying your best to hold back a laugh. âYouâre so set on ruining any fun I have, yet youâre looking out for me.â
Lando feels his chest tighten, so he makes up an excuse. âYour brother asked me to.â
âOf course he did.â
That wasnât entirely a lie. Carlos did ask Lando to drive you home before you even got to the club, thatâs why Lando wasnât drinking. He bullshitted some excuse to Daniel about how he realised drinking is not his thing, knowing damn well he wanted to get wasted the second he saw you carrying back those shots with a little sway in your hips. But he figured getting drunk by looking at your body was better than alcohol, anyway.
Carlos didnât ask Lando to look out for you. His request was to drive you home, so Landoâs not sure why heâs helping you out of the car or opening the front door for you, or why heâs following you into your room.
âYou can tell Carlos Iâm capable of getting into bed myself, he didnât need to ask you to tuck me in.â You roll your eyes, pulling off your jacket and dropping it on the armchair. Lando stands in the doorway watching you get into bed.
âHe cares about you.â Lando points out, slowly making his way into your room and leaning back against your desk, standing right in front of your bed. âMaybe start to appreciate that.â
âOh, please.â You plop back against your pillows. âDid Carlos also ask you to lecture me?â
âNo,â Lando shrugs, your eyes following his rising shoulders and gazing lower to the unbuttoned shirt. âIâm just saying.â
âYou could try shutting up once in a while.â Your eyes roll into the back of your head. If he keeps talking, youâre sure youâll either punch him or yourself. Being in the same room with the person you hate yet crave is so unbearable. Especially when the person in question is Lando.
âDonât wanna.â
Landoâs gaze burned into you as he stood there, his eyes challenging and lips pulled into a teasing smirk. Your eyes held contact with his, the pit in your stomach growing with each second. The air felt like it suddenly disappeared from your room and you could tell Lando felt it, too.
âYou should.â You finally say. âYouâd look smarter.â
Landoâs mouth opens with a quiet chuckle, his Adamâs apple rising and falling, and hypnotising you. The pit in your stomach grows as your eyes continue exploring his facial features. His jaw is so sharp, yet so delicate, and the way it pairs with his fierce eyes makes you weak in the knees.
Your eyes are focused on his lips when they part. âIf it bothers you so much, why donât you come over here and shut me up yourself?â
Lando finds it amusing how your pretty little lips part in surprise after the words leave his mouth. Itâs interesting to him how much you want him, despite making it so clear that heâs the last person you wanna be talking to.
Landoâs enjoying this, meanwhile you have no idea how to feel.
Thereâs a weird feeling in your chest, apart from your rapidly beating heart. The sudden change in Landoâs eyes after he says those words makes you that much more nervous. Youâre not even sure why youâre nervous. Maybe itâs the piercing gaze of his that burns into your skin, or maybe itâs the fact that your legs seem to have a mind of their own, as you stand up.
His eyes follow your figure as you approach him, mainly focused on that sway in your hips that heâs been addicted to since the start of the night. He thinks it should be criminal to look that good in your little black dress, only so he could be the one to punish you for it.
When youâve stopped two steps in front of Lando, his calloused hands find your waist and he pulls you against him. You feel the warmth seeping in through his button-up and it clashes so perfectly with the chills heâs sent down your spine.
Lando watches as you lean in, closer and closer, your faces mere inches apart. And when he expects you to kiss him, you look him dead in the eyes and say, âget out of my room.â
The shocked look on his face sends satisfaction through your body and the way it slowly falls into disappointment makes you wonder what he expected of you.
His hands slowly slip away from your waist and he pulls himself away from you, not sparing a glance your way as he closes the door behind himself.
The next morning is everything you expected it to beâ awkward, silent, uncomfortable.
Your place in the kitchen and Landoâs place in the living room seem to be so separate, yet it feels like all your thoughts are floating around in a bubble above your heads. You keep stealing glances of Lando, hiding your gaze from him, and he keeps watching you shamelessly.
He doesnât care anymore about your rivalry. It bothers him that he had you right there, practically in his hands, yet he managed to somehow lose that. And heâll do whatever it takes to make you his.
âWhen is Carlos coming back?â He yells from the couch in front of the TV. Your eyes rise from your cereal bowl and lock onto his.
Both your shoulders rise with a shrug. âDunno. I think he went to Charlesâ for the weekend.â
Lando turns back to the TV, a new thought brewing in his mind and his hypothetical bubble pops with the idea. He has a whole weekend with you and thatâs enough time, he reckons.
Lando turns his head back to you when you speak. âWhen are you leaving?â
It comes out an awful lot more rude than you intended it to be, but itâs just the way youâre used to talking to Lando.
He repeats your action and shrugs. âSunday, maybe.â
âOkay.â
His green eyes watch as you get up off of the dining chair and make your way to the kitchen sink, that addicting sway of your hips turning his mind into mush. His legs work faster than his mind and next thing he knows, heâs in the kitchen with you.
You see from the corner of your eye him opening the fridge and taking a can of diet coke out, and when he walks past you, he makes sure to gently touch your waist as if he was softly guiding you out of his way. âSorry.â
Lando wished he couldâve seen the look on your face when his hips softly brushed past your behind, his fingers barely gripping your waist, yet the feeling of his warm touch managed to send a million bolts of heat through your body.
You stand there, wide eyed, your slightly panicked gaze following Landoâs figure as he walks away and back to his spot on the couch. He doesn't seem affected by that at all and you choose to ignore the flutter in your chest when he looks back at you again.
The sky had changed colours by the time you got out of the shower. The subtle shades of pink and orange turned into black, slowly disrupting the peace of turquoise that you loved to watch.
Lando noticed the change too, beginning to miss your anxious presence in the living room. He shuts off the television and places the remote on the coffee table, leaving all of his other stuff scattered along the glass surface.
His heavy footsteps weigh on the stairs, but youâre far too focused on your skincare to hear anything other than the soft music playing from your phone.
Youâre trying your best to focus on anything but Lando.
Heâs the only thing on your mind ever since he came here. Youâd like to say that youâve only thought of him romantically since the thing that happened in your bedroom last night, but youâd be lying to yourself. Lando has been on your mind in the romantic way since you both were sixteen, the one time you both got a podium and he gave you a toothy smile, the look on his face enough to make you forget about your rivalry.
And his stay here, as much as you can tolerate it, is slowly making you lose your sanity.
Heâs been touching you gently all day, playing it off as if you were in his way, when there was clearly enough room for him to step by. And not to mention the use of petnames. Hearing âdarlingâ fall from his lips made your knees buckle each time.
You decided to shower after he scooted closer to you on the couch, his thigh brushing up against yours, the fabric of your satin shorts riding up just enough to make Landoâs mind reel.
The shower was good enough of a distraction, as you began to focus more on yourself than the man in the house.
And just as you settle in with the fact that this is your new life for the next few days, the bathroom door swings open and Lando peeps in. The sound of a slap echoes through the room as his palm finds his eyes. âI am so sorry.â
âLando, what the fuck! Get out!â You throw a random towel at him, the white fabric perfectly landing to cover his head.
The curly haired man quickly scrambles to close the door, yelling sincere apologies because, despite seeming like it, this wasnât another one of his teases. Heâs still so lost around your house and he thought this was his bathroom, but turns out thatâs far from it.
Despite that being horribly embarrassing for the both of you, Lando couldnât rid his mind of the imageâ your hair falling so beautifully on your shoulders, your back dripping with the last few drops of water, the white towel hugging your body so nicely, leaving little to the imagination as it tightly wrapped around your ass.
And the image of your breasts, once again pushed up and so visible in the reflection of the mirror, suddenly made all the blood in his body target one specific location.
It takes Lando two doors to find his bedroom, and he locks the door the second he steps inside. He doesnât waste time unbuttoning his shorts, his hands quickly pushing them down to his thighs. Landoâs back rests against the pillows on his bed, eyes squinting shut to try and preserve the vibrant image of your body as his hand tugs down his pre-cum soaked boxers.
His slender fingers wrap around his length as his mind completely warps the whole event that just happened.
Lando imagines himself stumbling into the bathroom, you standing there and looking at yourself in the mirror. Instead of you rushing him to leave, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bathroom. Instinctively, his hands wrapped around your waist, but you softly guided his left hand down to your entrance.
Lando canât help but whimper as he imagines how wet youâd be for him. His hand slowly pumps his cock, applying pressure from time to time, eyes still glued shut.
He imagines you peeling the towel offâ agonisingly slow just like the tease you areâ to reveal those beautiful breasts heâs been dreaming of seeing. He feels a shock go through his body as his hand speeds up, an orgasm soon to flood his mind.
So he makes the most of it.
Lando imagines himself pulling you in and kissing your lips, fingers still softly touching you down there. Multiple moans and whimpers leave his mouth as he imagines all heâd do to you, and everything heâd let you do to him. He doesnât hold back at all, your name falling from his lips without any fear of you hearing him.
And you do.
You hear every single moan and whimper, and the sounds of him masturbating to the image of you. For the past eight minutes, your ear has been pressed to the surface of your wooden door, trying to hear every sound he makes, no matter how loud or quiet.
With the final pump of his hand, Lando comes undone, strings of his cum coating the surface of his abdomen and hands.
You hear a deep, throaty groan leave his mouth and the deep breaths that follow after, and you can only imagine how pretty he must look with his curls stuck to his forehead, eyes closed shut and mouth parted in pleasure.
That image alone was enough to make your knees buckle and a certain warmth fill your belly.
It takes you another twenty minutes to gather the courage and walk downstairs. You decide to distract yourself and go grab a bottle of water from the fridge, in an attempt to calm yourself.
The clock on the wall shows 2:43am.
You didnât realise you spent nearly four hours in the shower, going to such drastic lengths to avoid being in the same room as Lando. And even that didn't work.
Somehow, whether on purpose or by accident, Lando is always where you are.
As you grab yourself a cold bottle of water, you remember when, back in your karting days, Lando got incredibly upset about DNFing. He was stomping around in his racer room and you heard all of it through the thin drywall separating you.
Next thing you knew, Lando had swung your door open, entered your room and slammed the door shut. All he did for the following twenty minutes was sit in your chair, staring at the floor with his eyebrows halfway down his face. You had never seen him so upset, so naturally that made you worry.
He ignored you asking if he was okay and simply sat there, looking at one spot as if it had been at fault for his crash into turn six.
That moment felt like it was a change.
After that, you spent more time together. Just in silence. And it reminded you of earlier today, Lando sitting on the couch when you sat down next to him and both of you watched the TV, just in silence.
Heavy footsteps cut you off from your train of thought, a gulp of water getting caught in your throat when you feel Lando walk through the kitchen.
âCanât sleep?â
Youâre not sure what this new feeling is, but thereâs a warmth that fills your body at the sound of his low and raspy voice. You turn towards him, your eyes slightly wider than usual. It doesnât help that heâs shirtless.
You watch his bare chest flex as he leans on the kitchen island, watching you with piercing green eyes. Quickly blinking, you turn your gaze to anywhere but him. âYeah. You?â
His burning eyes watch you standing there, the bottle of water still in your hands. You feel yourself growing more nervous at the intense stare he holds on you, your hand slightly trembling.
Lando nods, his thick neck constricting in some parts, making your mouth run dry with how badly you want to kiss it. âSame.â
âDo you want a drink?â You ask, motioning to the water bottle in your hand. Lando briefly nods, his amused eyes still focused on the crimson shade thatâs infiltrating your cheeks.
You turn around, your back facing him so you donât show how red you got from his green eyes boring into you. You grab a glass from the highest cupboard, your shirt lifting enough to reveal your black, silk sleeping shorts that are a bit too short, causing Landoâs eyes to wander, as if he hadnât already checked you out multiple times today.
With a trembling hand, you give him the glass and he smirks at your nervousness. He takes it from you, his fingers lingering for an extra moment before letting go. His eyes stayed on you as he took a few gulps of the water before finally looking away. You caught yourself watching the way the muscles on his arms swelled as he moved, almost hypnotising you.
Lando catches your fixated gaze again, but youâre too busy ogling at his biceps to notice how intensely he looks at you. Not that you hadnât noticed it before.
âThank you.â He says, handing you the glass and watching your fingers wrap around it, his mind travelling back to what he was thinking of upstairs.
You nod as if to say âno problemâ, a tight-lipped smile on your lips. You stand there for an extra few seconds, your eyes stuck on Landoâs as you bite the inside of your cheek. After realising how weird that was, you turn around and place the glass in the sink. Lando expects you turn back around, but his eyebrows knit together when you stand with your back to him for a bit too long.
You just canât bring yourself to turn back around, knowing youâd break under the weight of only his gaze. Itâs already been too long of a moment with him in the kitchen, and you should have gone upstairs the second you heard him come downstairs, because whatever he came here for isnât the only thing heâll be leaving with.
Lando watches you, so still and so nervous. He can practically feel the anxiety bouncing off your skin and that excites him. He feels his voice rumbling in his throat before he even thinks to say anything. âTurn around.â
The stern tone to his unusually deep voice made you shiver, so you almost immediately turned around, eyes on the ground. Lando makes his way around the kitchen island to stand in front of you. You see his black socks come into view and the flutter in your chest multiplies by a million.
Lando places his pointer finger under your chin, slowly raising your face to look at him. When your eyes finally lock onto his, you feel the palm of his hand cup your cheek and his thumb softly caresses it. His other hand softly wraps around your waist and pulls you in closer, your arms subconsciously wrapping around his neck.
You donât notice how both of you start leaning in, little by little, the distance between your faces growing smaller. Thereâs an uncertainty in your chest, but Lando makes it go away when his lips part and he stops moving closer.
âWhy havenât you told me to stop?â
You look up at him, noticing the genuine look on his face. You lean in closer, your breath warming Landoâs lips as he anticipates your next move. He feels the soft pressure of your lips on his and then you pull away.
âMaybe I want you to kiss me.â
âI wonât be able to stop if I do, baby.â
You push back a few of the curls that are sticking to his forehead. âThen donât.â
Lando only needed to hear the confirmation of what he already knew, and his lips immediately clashed with yours again. He feels your fingers softly tangle in his hair, your mouth parting enough for his tongue to slip in.
His fingers dig into your hips, his head moving to the side and deepening the kiss. His teeth softly pull on your bottom lip, earning a quiet whimper to escape your mouth.
âFeel me,â he mumbles against your lips, still sloppily making out with you in the kitchen of you and your brotherâs shared home. Fuck. Carlos would kill Lando if he knew what was happening right now.
When you donât touch him, he grabs one of your hands and slowly traces it down his chest. âFeel how hard I am.â
You bring your hand down, gentle fingers wrapping around his clothed dick. Heâs practically throbbing in your hand. When you softly add pressure, he moans.
âDonât do that, baby.â
You smirk against his lips. âAnd what if I do?â
When you palm him again, Lando grabs your wrist and tears it away from himself. âDonât.â
The tone of his voice was enough to make your insides turn to mush. So aggressive, so mean, so hungry. Hunger, thatâs what it was.
Lando was hungry for you, for the taste of you, feel of you. Ever since he saw you in that little dress, hips swaying and all. He felt himself twitch again just at the memory of it.
âWhat if I want to?â You push him further, your hand now resting on his abs, slowly tracing the faint happy trail down to his waistband. âWhat if I want to touch you?â
Landoâs hand came to cup your face while the other stayed on your hip. He softly snaked his hand around your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. Softly enough as to not hurt you, aggressively enough to make your knees buckle.
A mischievous smile painted itself across your lips. Lando kissed you harshly again. âAre you really this eager for my dick?â
The only answer you gave was your lips on his neck. The skin was warm under your mouth, tongue swirling on the tan before softly sucking on it. You kissed your way down his chest, earning approval from Lando just by the sounds he made. He was so vocal and so loud.
When you reach the waistband of his boxers, the Calvin Klein sticking out above his sweatpants, Lando thinks youâll stop. But you prove him so wrong when you pull down his sweatpants, fingers tucking themselves behind the waistband of his boxers. You look at him from beneath your lashes, the look alone making him drip pre-cum before youâve even properly touched him.
âDonât tease me, baby.â He orders and you follow. You tug down his boxers, his erection flinging up and hitting his happy trail. He groans at the feeling when your fingers wrap around him, stroking his shaft a bit before you start kissing back down his stomach.
You look up at the heaving mess of a man above you, his hands braced on the kitchen island as he tries his best not to show how desperately he needs you, but failing miserably.
âIs this okay?â You ask, hand still softly pumping his throbbing dick.
The curly haired man briefly nods. âThatâs perfect, baby, go ahead.â
Lando swears heâs never felt so fucking turned on as the moment when you started licking up from the base of his cock, ending at the tip and taking him into your mouth.
You start moving your head, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth and pumping the rest of his length with your hand. Lando feels his tip hitting the back of your throat, adding a tinge of extra pleasure to your warm and wet mouthâs feel.
You felt him twitch in your mouth as your tongue and lips worked their magic in making the dominant man squirm at the touch of you. âAh, fuck.â He moans, his hand coming down to wrap around your hair. âJust like that, darling.â
The nickname makes you let out a soft moan of your own, the vibration sending a sort of shock down Landoâs dick. You felt yourself getting wetter, your thighs trying to rub together and ease the tension between your legs.
âIâll take care of you,â Lando heaved, tightening his grip on your hair as he subconsciously started thrusting into your mouth. You feel tears prick your eyes as you gag at the feeling of his dick deep-throating you. âYouâre being so fucking good for me, babyâ fuck.â
Your whimpers vibrate through his dick and you feel his hips hitching, telling you that heâs close. But you donât pull away and Lando notices. A smirk grows on his face when you let him continue to face-fuck you, his high soon to paint your throat.
A loud and strained moan leaves Landoâs lips, you felt a warmth fill your mouth. Lando looks down at you as he pulls out and you bat your eyelashes at him, mouth full of the sweetest man youâve ever tasted.
âSwallow,â he orders, his fingers harshly hooking under your chin. You swallow and he intensely looks at you, his eyes holding a strict glare at you. âAll of it.â
Fuck. If you said thatâs not one of the hottest things youâve heard him say, youâd be lying.
When you do as told, he cups your face and pulls you up with his other arm. He doesnât hesitate closing the gap between your mouths, feeling the taste of himself mixed with your saliva makes his head reel.
The moment is spoiled by a ringing phone in the living room. Lando groans against your mouth when he realises that itâs his.
âGo to my room and wait for me,â he mumbles. A whine leaves your lips as he pulls you away and you watch as Lando tucks himself back into his boxers before picking up the phone call.
You make your way up the stairs as quietly as possible and when you enter Landoâs room, itâs not exactly what you had imagined it to beâ you expected it to be messy, clothes scattered on the floor and bed unmade. It shocked you to see his clothes nicely folded on his chair and his bed neat.
The duvet is soft against your thighs as you plop down and lean back against the pillows. The same pillows he was sat against when you heard him earlier, the same pillows your face will be nuzzled into as heâ
The door opens as soon as you think of him. Lando walks in, his curls messily sticking to his forehead as a reminder of how hot and bothered you had him downstairs.
âWho was that?â You tilt your head to the side when Lando walks closer to you, putting his phone down onto the nightstand.
He lays down next to you and pulls you to sit on his thighs. âDoesnât matter.â
You had begun to miss the taste of his lips against yours. You watched as Landoâs eyes trace your features, lingering on your lips, green eyes following the dip in your cupid's bow before he kisses you again.
Landoâs lips taste better the second time you kiss him, and the third, and the fourth, and the many more times that make you end up with your back against the mattress and Landoâs face between your thighs.
You closed your eyes shut when Landoâs lips made contact with your clit, softly sucking on it and nipping at it with his teeth. His tongue swirled around it, sending shocks through your body.
Stars twinkle on the inside of your eyelids and you arch your back when Lando teases your hole with his finger, before pushing it in agonisingly slow. He fingers you with a pace that brings you closer to your high, and when youâre about to fall apart under his touch, Lando pulls away.
All that pleasant feeling is suddenly gone from your body and you lean up on your elbows to look at Lando. âWhat the fuck?â
Lando laughs at your disappointment as he licks his fingers clean. âYou didnât think Iâd let you cum not on my cock?â
âYeah,â you shrugged. âThought youâre nicer than that.â
Lando helps you put your clothes back on before plopping down to lay beside you and pull you into a tight cuddle. âThen you must not know me at all.â
Early morning sunshine beamed through the gap of the closed curtain and it blinded you the second you opened your eyes.
The first thing you remember feeling was warm. Overwhelmingly warm. You never sleep with thick sheets or anything that could make you wake up uncomfortably hot, so this was unusual.
The second thing you noticed was a curly head of hair on your chest.
You were annoyed at first, him being the source of the annoying heat. But then, as your fingers softly played with his curls, you grew a smile on your face.
His hair was soft. It felt like the softest thing in the world.
Lando still seemed fast asleep, so you decided to try and sleep some more, too. The second you closed your eyes, Lando switched positions and ended up spooning you again.
His lips pressed up against the back of your neck as he said, âmorning, baby.â
You put your arms on his, him tightly hugging your waist, and smile a bit. âMorning, Lan.â You feel him nuzzle his head into your neck and hold you tight, planning to stay in this bed all day.
That is, until you hear the front door open and Carlos shuffling around in the kitchen. Lando freezes when Carlosâ spanish accent echoes through the room. âY/N?â
You turn around and pull your lips into a tight line with an apologetic look on your face, before kissing him on the lips. Lando chases after you when you pull away and brings you in for a few more kisses. His arms still wrap around you and he pulls you into his chest. âDonât go.â
âI have to.â You kiss one of the moles on his bare chest, softly tracing his side with your fingers. âIâd stay if I could.â
âI know.â He kisses the top of your head. Itâs such a gentle action that it makes your stomach twist with the notion that this is probably the last moment youâll have with him like this, before going back to hating each other.
Landoâs arms pull away from your back, yet his biceps still hold you caged in his embrace. You feel him fumbling with the bracelets he likes to wear. He takes one offâ a McLaren one he got gifted by a fan, with his racer number neatly carved into the brown, wooden bead thatâs in the middle of the orange onesâ and flips you to your side.
You turn around to watch as he loosens the bracelet before softly slipping it around your wrist and tightening it, his fingers gripping your wrist in a way that makes your insides turn.
âSo you remember me. And this.â He explains.
You smile. âI could never forget this. Or you.â
Lando laughs. His chest vibrates with a laughter that you feel in your spine. âSappy, much?â
You roll your eyes, playfully. âFuck you.â
And youâre back to normalâ the banter, the eye-rolls, the annoying presence of Lando. It all comes rushing back.
When you go downstairs, you greet Carlos with a tight hug and pray he canât smell the lingering scent of Landoâs cologne thatâs managed to soak into your clothes.
âMorning.â You say. Carlos nods his head before turning back around to make himself some food. âHow was it at Charlesâ?â
âBoring,â he rolled his eyes playfully, obviously joking. âIâm surprised you didnât wreck the house by being alone with Lando for a day.â
You shrug, seated on the island in the very same spot Lando was leaning against in the early hours of the morning. âI didnât even notice he was here, honestly.â
You couldnât be more of a liar in that moment. And Carlos knew that. He noticed the bracelet on your wrist, but more importantly â the faint hickeys halfway hiding behind the collar of your shirt.
Your brotherâs lucky his back was to you, so you didnât notice the slight smirk on his face. âIs that so?â
âYeah.â You look down at your feet, trying to come up with literally anything else to talk about.
Carlos shrugs. âThatâs nice.â
Landoâs footsteps echo through the kitchen as he makes his way through the room. He doesnât spare a glance at you, but gently squeezes your knee as he walks past and when Carlos isnât watching.
âAre we leaving tonight?â He asks, plopping himself on one of the dining room chairs.
Carlos plates the scrambled eggs and toast he just made. âYeah. I assume youâve already packed your bags?â
Lando gives you a look and you look at him, a small smirk on your face. Lando canât help but bite his lip to hide the smile creeping up on his face. âYeah, of course.â
âI have a few more things to pack up, but Iâm mostly done.â You lie, watching as Carlos brings his breakfast to the living room.
The rest of the day is spent frantically packing, Lando sneaking in a few small kisses when Carlos isnât looking, and trying to hide it as best as possible from him.
Little did you two know, Carlos was in on the secret.
I AM DECEASED
lando watching POVs of himself like "damn so this is what it's like to be loved"
or maybe he just wants to fantasize about being the Y/N to charles. valid tbh.
landoâs watching POVs like:
lando woke up to the sound of voices downstairs. he sat up, his tiny, little, petit body consumed by the normal human sized bed. he threw his hair into a messy bun, rubbing the sleep from his green orbs.
he walked down the stairs into the kitchen where his evil mother who hated him for seemingly no reason was stood waiting for him.
âwhatâs going on?â lando asked the woman, who couldnât look at him in the eyes (his green orbs) since his father died in a natural disaster that wasnât landoâs fault.
âiâve sold you to zac brown. pack your things.â she replied.
I just really love this.
summary: friends with benefits situations are all fun and games until someone starts catching feelings.
warnings: language, sexual themes, fluff, kinda fwb!au, college student!reader, idk this kinda sucks
masterlist | listen
ââ§Â°đŞâĄđ°â§â
the two of you had been up for an hour or so, way before the sun had started to rise and shine in through the windows of his bedroom. the same sun that lit up the boy in front of you so perfectly that he almost looked angelic. the way his eyes shone in the lighting, the mix of blue and green suddenly entrancing you as he hovered over you.
your hands came up to run through his messy curls. you smiled softly at the fact that the soft tangles were your doing, beings your hands were just buried in his hair a few moments prior. then, your mind wandered and thought how you could live the rest of your life contently if it meant you would be waking up next to him every morning.
he moved his head to the crook of your neck, placing kisses along the skin as you tilted your head to give him more access to the area. yeah, you could get used to this every morning.
you knew heâd never think the same way, especially when you were the one who made it very clear that it was a no strings attached situation. heâd never feel the same way because even you werenât supposed to feel this way.
however, as he moved to rest his chin on your chest so he could look up at you, it was all you could think about. and he could tell the gears in your head were turning when your smiled softly faded, eyes still locked on his.
he cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow slightly raised as he looked over your facial features, âyou okay?â
you blinked, nodding and smiling softly, shaking your head in efforts to get the thoughts to dissipate, âhmm? yeah, sorry, just kind of zoned out for a second.â
he knew you better than that, shifting as he moved to lay next to you, head resting on his palm, âi know that look, youâve got something on your mind. sure you donât want to talk?â
it wasnât fair. he was so kind, gentle, caring, all of it. and you couldnât even call him yours.
you nodded, âyeah. thanks, though.â
he hummed, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the nightstand. you held a mental debate with yourself on if you should stay and bask in the warmth and comfort of not only the boy next to you, but the way too comfortable bed you were laying in.
âwanna make breakfast, or go get something or whatever?â
mind made up: go before you slowly start entering the hole you were slowly but surely digging for yourself.
you threw the comfort off your body, wincing slightly at the cold air around you. god, this is so hard. it shouldnât be this hard.
ââm gonna go, actually,â you said, grabbing your clothes from last night off the floor, shoving some things back in the overnight bag you happily packed after classes yesterday, ââve got some homework.â
he tried to mask his frown, knowing he shouldnât be upset about the fact that you didnât want to stay. you probably shouldnât anyway, but he really wanted you to.
there was nothing lando loved more in the world than you and your company. was it worth breaking the agreement? worth losing a friend and someone he could talk to? maybe, maybe not. he knew what he wanted, and it was you. however, he couldnât quite put a finger on what you wanted.
he had even wondered if he was the one youâd think about at night when you couldnât sleep, staring up at the ceiling. because you were the one heâd always manage to think about. it was always you.
you were slipping on your shoes when he came back to reality, âiâll drive you home.â
you nodded, watching as he got up from the bed and grabbed the hoodie that sat on the floor. the same one he wore last night, the one you were desperately pulling him closer by after a few episodes of the show the two of you had started last week.
he tugged on a pair of sneakers, grabbing his phone and wallet before leading you through his house. you trailed behind him, really not wanting to go back to the house you shared with your roommates, but you had to. if you stayed here any longer, every single line you both had made clear a few months prior would be crossed. a friendship would be jeopardized.
simply, the thought of ruining everything wasnât worth it. was it?
he grabbed the keys to the mclaren sitting in his driveway, âdo you have everything?â
you patted the pocket on your hoodie, feeling your phone and taking a glimpse inside your bag, âlooks like it.â
he nodded as the two of you walked out of the house. he opened the door for you, just like always did, closing it behind you. he climbed in on the drivers side, starting the engine.
âyou sure youâre not hungry or anything? donât want a coffee or a tea?â
you looked over at the boy next to you, smiling softly and shaking your head, ââm okay, thanks though.â
he nodded, pulling out of the driveway and handing you his phone to play music. you started playing the playlist you had made on his spotify account, a mixture of both of your favorite songs.
however, the music you were playing wasnât even being paid attention to as you both were in deep thought the whole drive. both thinking about the other and how you both desperately wished things could be different. how you were both feeling the same way towards each other, just the other was too scared to admit it first.
he pulled up in front of the house, a soft sigh leaving your lips. partially out of relief because you were home and you could work on the work youâd been stressing about all week, but partially out of disappointment.
âwant me to walk you up?â
you grabbed your bag, shaking your head, âno, âs okay,â you smiled softly, âthanks for, ermâŚâ
you trailed off when your eyes met his. he laughed, noticing the slight blush rising to your cheeks, âdonât have to thank me.â
you nodded, âright, sorry.â
âdonât have to apologize either,â he smiled, âiâll uhm⌠see you later?â
you nodded, desperately wanting to lean over and kiss his cheek, like you normally wouldâve. but you knew if you did, you would eventually start kissing his lips and youâd never stop.
âyeah, iâll see you later.â
you opened the door, climbing out and shutting the door before walking up to the house. he watched you make your way up to the door, fishing for your keys in the mess of the bag. you put the key in and turned around, sending him a small wave.
he waved back, pulling away once you walked inside the house and shut the door. you let out a breath, leaning against the wood for support and running a hand over your face. after giving yourself a second, you made your way into the living room.
âoh my god,â the brunette, sarah, said with a teasing smile, âyouâre able to walk after a night at landoâs? what a miracle.â
you flipped her off, causing the blonde, ashley, to snort from her place on the couch. you hung your bag on the barstool, sitting down and grabbing the bowl of cereal from sarah.
âoh, yeah, sure,â she mumbled, throwing her hands up in the air, âi wasnât eating that.â
you gave her a look, shoving a spoonful of cereal in your mouth.
âyouâre awfully quiet,â ashley said, entering the kitchen now as she stood at the coffee maker, âyou alright?â
you were silent for a minute, both your roommates looking at you with concerned looks before you spoke up, âi donât know.â
they both had the same expression, eyebrows raised, âwhat do you mean?â
you dropped your head onto your arm as you groaned. the two girls looked at each other confused before ashley questioned you, ây/n? whatâs going on?â
âi like him.â you said sitting up.
sarah rolled her eyes, pulling the bowl of cereal back towards her, âwell, yeah, tell us something we donât know.â
âno, i mean,â you huffed, âi like like him.â
âokay,â ashley said into her coffee cup, âand what about that?â
âi canât!â
âwhat do you mean you âcanât like himâ?â sarah said, mouthful of cereal.
âi canât like him because if i like him, itâll be breaking the rules. and heâll never like me back because of âem,â you said, âi wish i never came up with them in the first place.â
sarah snorted, âhold on,â placing the spoon in the now empty bowl, âyou think he doesnât like you back?â
âi donât just think, i know.â
ashley looked over at sarah and the two girls snickered. you gave them confusing looks.
âwhat? whatâs so funny?â
ây/n, i love you,â ashley said, âbut youâre an idiot.â
âitâs a good thing youâre really pretty because youâre completely oblivious.â sarah agreed. you sent them both confusing looks.
âwhatâre you talking about?â
ây/n, come on!â ashley laughed, âopen your eyes! this man doesnât like you, heâs in love with you.â
you gave them blank stares before you shook your head, âno, thereâs absolutely no way-â
âthink about it,â sarah said, âwould he show up and bring you flowers every time you two go out? would he stop by and bring you a coffee, or a tea, or something to eat, which heâs literally memorized the orders for by the way, every time youâre studying? he knows you well enough to know that if youâre focused hard enough, you forget to eat and that you canât study without some form of caffeine.â
âplus, the way he looks at you,â ashley added, âhis face literally lights up every time you enter the room.â
you felt your heart go to your throat, but you somehow managed a croaked out response, âyou think?â
âplease,â ashley said, âwe know. plus, âve asked him.â
you and sarah looked at the blonde, a simultaneous, âyou what?â slipping from your mouths.
ashley shrugged, raising her hands in mock defense, âi just wanted to know!â
âwhat did he say?â
âwhen did you ask?â
she put her coffee mug down, âit was the other night, he was watching you two laugh and dance at that stupid, lame ass party we went to. he was literally watching you the way they do in movies when they love someone,â she said, âso i asked him, âdo you like her?â and he nodded and kind of blushed a little bit before he was like, âmaybe a bit more than thatâ.â
âoh my god,â sarah said, looking over at you. you sat there in shock for a minute before looking at your friends.
âwhat do i do? what do i say?â you asked the two girls looking at you.
âjust talk to him, tell him how you feel,â ashley said, âitâs not like anything could go wrong, you already know how he feels.â
she had a point.
ââ§Â°đŞâĄđ°â§â
it was evening now, the sun setting through your curtains as you sat at your desk. you hummed along to the music playing through your headphones, scribbling down the rest of the notes you needed for this week.
you tilted your neck to the side, trying to fight through the aching pain in your muscles as you had sat at your desk all day. the music got quieter for a second before a soft ping rang through your headphones.
lando
howâs schoolwork going?
you smiled softly, clicking on the notification before typing back a response.
pretty good, actually. kind of wish i had taken a break to go out to get dinner with the girls.
you went back to your textbook before the woosh came through this time, another text popping up in the messages between the two of you.
have you not eaten today?
you looked at the clock, 8:30pm. well, shitâŚ
guess i was too wrapped up to realize đ
the bubble appeared on his side of the conversation, another sound playing through after he sent his message.
fancy some dinner company, then?
you smiled again, and if your feet werenât tucked under your legs, you were sure youâd be probably be kicking them. god, he had you whipped.
as long as you bring something good.
he was quick to respond this time.
be there soon.
and he was a man to his word, showing up to your house almost forty minutes later. he had texted you that he was pulling up so you could open the door for him. once you opened the door, you smiled at the boy who stood with a bag of food in his hand.
âhey,â he smiled back at you. you stepped aside to let him in.
âhey,â you said, the two of you making your way to the kitchen as he set the bag down on the island, âwhatcha get?â
you tried peeking in the bag but he pulled it away from you before you could look. you looked up at him as he sent you a teasing smile.
âclose your eyes.â
âlando-â
âjust close your eyes,â he chuckled back. you huffed, a soft smile on your face nonetheless as you closed your eyes. he pulled the takeout container, placing it in front of you before he fished out his.
âokay, open.â
you glanced down at the counter and your smile got wider. your favorite dish from your favorite restaurant sitting in front of you. your eyes met his as he smiled at you.
âyou went all the way across town?â
âyeah,â he shrugged, popping open the lid to his dinner, âthatâs what took me so long. sorry about that, by the way.â
you shook your head, âitâs okay,â you said, opening your own container, âi just⌠thank you.â
you smiled up at him and he swore heâd do the drive a hundred times if it meant you got to look at him like that.
âdonât have to thank me.â he said for the second time that day.
the two of you ate and made some comfortable conversation. most of them being jokes and the other giggling at them. he followed you up the stairs to your room after, the door closing behind him.
you sat down at your desk as he plopped onto your bed, âhow much do you have left?â
you hummed, skimming through your notes and checking the check list on your computer, âanother page or so,â you glanced over at him, softly wincing from the pain in your neck, which didnât go unnoticed by him.
âyour neck sore?â
you nodded, digging your fingers in the muscle to try to relieve the pain, âyeah, guess that means iâve been sitting here too long.â
he got up from his spot before coming up behind you, his hands brushing yours to the side as he dug his finger tips into the aching muscles. you let out a soft sigh, letting him rub away the soreness, âgod, that feels good.â
he smiled softly, ââs it helping?â
you nodded, âyeah, actually.â
he continued for a couple seconds before you turned around to look at him in your chair. you searched his eyes as you tried to read them, but you got too distracted by the color of them to fully assess. he smiled softly down at you, raising an eyebrow slightly.
âwhat?â he asked, a chuckle following after.
âdo you think about that night?â your mouth was moving before your brain could filter it, âthe night we made that agreement?â
he shrugged, sitting back down on the bed now, âi mean, kind of, but not all the time.â
âdo you regret it?â
he furrowed his eyebrows at you, âwhy would i regret it?â
you looked down at your hands, âbecause i do,â his heart dropped, but you immediately snapped your head up, ânot like that! not like that at all. god, thatâs not the way it was supposed to sound coming out of my mouth.â
you took a deep breath, his facial features becoming unreadable, âthen how did you mean it?â
âi mean, i regret giving us these stupid rules,â you said, âlike the one where itâs supposed to be âno feelings involvedâ, that sort of thing.â
he sent you a questioning look, his heart skipping a beat with hope, hope that youâd feel the same way, âwhy?â
âbecause i may have broken that rule.â
he searched your eyes, immediately his heart jumping up to his throat.
âso did i,â he said.
you smiled at each other from your seats before he was pulling you towards him, mumbling a soft, âcâmere,â
you straddled his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as one of his grabbed your waist while the other cupped your cheek. he leaned forward and kissed you softly, your hands finding the curls on the back of his neck.
he was the one to deepen the kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip before sucking and nibbling on it softly, knowing exactly how to make you weak. and it was working as you found yourself softly moaning into his mouth. he moved his hand from your hip to your ass, grabbing at it playfully causing you to giggle.
you broke the kiss, âi already knew how you felt, i just wanted to hear you say it.â
he sent you a look, silently asking how you wouldâve known before his eyes widened. you laughed softly as he rolled his eyes.
âfucking ashley,â he mumbled against your lips.
no one could wipe the smile off his face even if they tried. you kissed him passionately, pushing back on his chest as he laid back onto the mattress and brought you with him. you hovered over him as you bent down, kissing him again. his hands found their place on your hips yet again, you absentmindedly moving against his hips gently.
he hummed contently against your lips, fingers moving under the hoodie you were wearing, a different one than the one you had on earlier, âis this mine?â
he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear as you bit back a smile, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, âmaybe..â
he laughed, shaking his head as he pulled at the bottom hem, helping you out of it, âyou look better in it anyway.â
pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader
warnings: angst and comfort, fluff
summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3
song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift
word count: 4.4 k
notes: I love lake quinn sm :)
â ăťăťăťăťâ ăťăťăťăť â ăťăťăťăťâ
our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes
"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."
your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.
it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.
"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.
"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.
quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.
"look, quinny."
quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.
"oh." your father whispers.
"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.
"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."
your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine
"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."
"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"
"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."
"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.
the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.
you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.
and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...
he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.
it never occurred to her that he might be the one.
"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.
"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.
"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.
"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"
"birdie, it's just a joke!"
he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.
ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried
when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.
you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.
now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.
you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.
everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.
quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.
he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.
somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.
your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.
you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.
it lands on quinn.
your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.
this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.
quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.
he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.
"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.
you shook your head, "i want to."
he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.
his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.
as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.
you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.
you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me
the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.
when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.
"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.
the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.
it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,
"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.
"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.
"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.
"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.
"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.
you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.
it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.
he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.
he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.
that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.
so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.
and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.
it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.
he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.
so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.
so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.
"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.
he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.
you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.
your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.
you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.
tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"
"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.
his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.
the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.
quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.
and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.
his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.
"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.
"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."
the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.
he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?
you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.
he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.
you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.
"gas station run?" he asks.
you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."
"please? I really want chips."
you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.
the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.
you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."
"god, this is embarrassing-"
"quintin, i swear-"
"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.
there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.
the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.
"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.
"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"
"are you jealous?"
"what?"
"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"
"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.
you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.
"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"
you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.
he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see
"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.
"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.
there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.
you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.
he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.
your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.
you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.
he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.
you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.
or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.
and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.
his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.
the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.
"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.
you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.
you're mad.
you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.
you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.
you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.
"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"
it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.
he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.
you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.
that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.
quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.
you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.
"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.
you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"
quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.
the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.
he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.
"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."
suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.
you frown, realizing that you're in the air.
"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.
"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"
"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.
"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"
he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.
"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"
"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"
"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.
he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.
"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."
"quinn-"
"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.
now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.
but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.
"i love you!" you blurt out.
he turns slowly, "what?"
"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"
the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.
you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.
he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.
he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.
"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.
"say it again," he demands, just because he can.
"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.
"i love you too, chickie."
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
oh, my, my, my
"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.
the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.
well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.
he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.
you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.
you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.
they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.
"i can't wait for their wedding."
"hold on, now!"
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee
you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.
it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.
the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.
this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.
quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.
and more importantly, the two of you are always together.
"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"
you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.
he leads you there, like he always does.
"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.
"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.
but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.
"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.
one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.
the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.
quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.
"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.
"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.
"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.
it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.
it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.
"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.
when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.
you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.
and then he drops down on one knee.
you start crying, immediately.
that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.
he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.
you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.
you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.
you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.
your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.
jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.
Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.
jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.
..â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘....â˘â˘Â°Â°Â°Â°â˘â˘..
take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too
the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.
this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.
your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.
he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.
you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.
your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.
sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.
quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.
he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.
quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.
you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.
but the last dance is saved for the two of you.
"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.
"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.
you laugh, and so does he.
forever sounds real good to you.
â ăťăťăťăťâ ăťăťăťăť â ăťăťăťăťâ
Š sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.
Iâve said it before and Iâm going to have to say it again. MAKE đ YOUR đ FICS đ MORE đ INCLUSIVE
Or at least tag them as reader-specific
We donât all have blue eyes or blonde hair. Weâre not all super petite. We are all different!!!! And you need to make an effort to stop excluding.