*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: death, grief, angst, very little talk of religion/ doubting religion (christianity)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 800
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: This almost just a rant/ my experience with grief so no real summary :) <3
They say there are five stages to grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The way people talk about it makes it feel as though it is a linear process, as if you’ll go through every stage individually. But that's far from the truth; grief is not linear, in fact, it's a melting pot of emotions. You feel every stage at once and then nothing, only to be attacked by your dear friend's denial, anger, and depression all over again.
Denial: The first few days after his death didn’t feel real, it felt as if you were floating above everyone– a spectator to the situation at hand. The words of condolences given entering through one ear and fluttering out the other. It was some cruel joke or dream nightmare, and any moment he would wake you up with those soft kisses like he always did.
It's near impossible to remember the softness of his voice at this point, let alone the warmth of his hugs or his scent that used to linger on every inch of your existence. Night rolls around and you close my eyes in hopes of waking up from this nightmarish reality. Sometimes your eyes catch the top of his head in a semi crowded grocery store, but when you double take to get a better look at him, he's suddenly someone else– as if someone took his body and only replaced the face.
You suppose grief is weird like that, you wish so hard that your person would still be here that you start to see things… hear things. Like when you can't sleep and you stay up all night crying and you think you can hear him whispering in your ear, telling me that everything will be okay. And suddenly you're sleepy for the first time in months because you swear he's there with you in bed, holding you close– his warmth and his cologne (a scent you’ve struggled to place, but have finally managed to remember) lulling you to sleep. When you close your eyes you see him, standing in front of you like the last time you saw him, as if nothing had ever happened.
Anger: In those moments when you weren’t denying his death you were beyond angry– at the world, at whatever God or higher being that was out there.
You were numb beyond belief, tired of everything to do with life– tired of hearing people say you were in their prayers. What good did praying do? It wouldn't bring him back, nothing could do that, so why waste time “praying”? If there was truly a God out there that cared for you, or anyone else for that matter, he wouldn’t let such suffering carry on– would he?
Bargaining: This usually comes with anger. You scream up at the sky, pleading for a few more moments– for a reversal of time that you know cannot be granted. You were always selfish– never asking to switch positions with him… only ever asking for more.
You remember the days between his death and funeral when you still wholeheartedly believed in God. When you didn’t doubt as hard as you do now, and you would kneel beside your bed in hopes of one last moment with him. A kiss, a hug, a simple smile… anything. You prayed for anything as long as it was from him.
And even when you think you’ve finally gotten over his death, you’ll see him lying in the open casket. The way he almost looked like himself but didn’t, the grayish look of his skin and the awkward position of his body giving away to the illusion of peace the funeral home had tried to give him. If you try hard enough you can still feel his cold skin under your final touch, and that is enough to steer you away from ever finding someone else.
Depression: It's always there, lingering– waiting to fully seep itself into you.
Acceptance: The one stage that you never thought you'd reach, but eventually did.
You’ll only ever be a few years of his life but he was everything to you, but now he's only a hole in your heart that no one will ever fill. And as your birthday inevitably draws closer you can't help but wish it could disappear. You can't bear another birthday without him, knowing he could have seen you celebrate another if he had only been given five more days.
And you pray, something you hardly ever did before he left… something you never do now that he's gone– but you pray. You pray for hours on end; you pray that you never wake up because he won’t be there. Because if you stay here you'll see him forever and you’ll hold onto the pieces that you still remember.
As the season wrapped up you were left in this state of limbo, you felt useless, unsure of what to do with yourself. Sure, your work wasn’t really over, but it wasn’t like you’d be traveling almost every weekend like you'd grown accustomed to these past months. And with Christmas rapidly approaching the feeling of dread only grew. It wasn’t like you had the time to plan a trip back home to be with family, not with all the postseason content you had to plan and post.
You held the camera up as you recorded the last video of Charles and Carlos before the break, smiling as they answered whatever questions needed to be answered. “All done,” you ended the recording, “Thank you for your cooperation this season, I know how annoying this stuff can be.”
“It's not a big deal, it's all part of our job,” Charles said with a polite smile, he had become a reliable friend during your time as the Ferrari social media manager. You had grown to truly trust one another.
“Right, well, have a good break and happy holidays,” you waved to them as you walked away from the two of them, mumbling to yourself about work.
“What are you doing for the holidays this year?” Charles asked as he caught up to you, slightly scaring you.
“Jesus, you nearly gave me a fright.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he pressed on, anticipating your almost obvious answer. It had been the same for all breaks in the years you had been working with Ferrari.
“Staying home and working, I’ve got postseason stuff to finish up,” you sigh, running a hand over your face, “I didn’t have time to plan anything else.”
“You never do.”
“That's not true, I visited my parents during the summer break this year,” you defend yourself, knowing that he was right. It was no secret that you were a bit of a workaholic who struggled to have a good work-life balance.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said bluntly. You raised an eyebrow at him, silently urging him to continue, a little frustrated with the fact that he was holding you up. “Why don’t you spend the holidays with me?”
“Charles,” you began to protest, letting out a sigh at his proposal.
“Before you say no, just hear me out” Charles quickly cut you off, not allowing you to deny his proposal just yet. “You're planning on spending the holidays alone to work, right,” he did wait for your answer, “Why rot your days away in your apartment? Imagine: mountains and snow.”
You opened your mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by charles. It was as if he could recognize the look of protest on your face. “You haven't even listened to my whole proposal yet!” he exclaimed, taking a deep breath before continuing, “ please, don't say no, I just don’t want you to spend another break alone. It's not good for you. I have a chalet in the alps, we can spend the days doing whatever you want– drinking hot chocolate, exploring the area… skiing– whatever you want,” he desperately tried to get you to agree.
‘Fuck it’ you thought to yourself as you ponder the possible outcomes, “Sure.”
Charles smiled as you accepted his proposal, shaking your shoulder with excitement, “perfect, you're going to have the best time of your life. I’ll make sure of it.”
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You’d been in the chalet for a few days and to say it was a bit awkward was an understatement. It was clear that Charles was attempting to make your experience pleasant but was failing to make some sort of connection, not that you were being of any help.
The place was cozy and definitely had a holiday charm to it that kept you in an agreeable mood. There was a fireplace in the living room area that kept the temperature inside toasty despite the egregious amount of snow falling outside. A christmas tree sits in the corner, nicely decorated and lit with those warm lights that would remind anyone of their childhood.
You'd spent the morning editing some of the videos you were supposed to upload during the break, only getting up from your spot on the living room floor to make a cup of coffee. The front door opened and you heard the noise of Charles stomping the snow off of his boots as he entered. He has been off skiing or something, you weren’t entirely sure– too wrapped up in your own work obsessed world to ask. Though you were certain he had spent the entire time trying to find something you could do together, desperately wanting to bridge the uncomfortable space between you.
“Still working?” he asked, sitting on the couch next to your spot on the floor. You could feel his hesitance as he reached for the laptop and closed it, “You need a break, and I won’t allow you to argue. All you’ve done since we arrived has been work.”
You sighed, resting your head against the coffee table, “Alright.”
Charles almost looked surprised at how easily you had given up, almost expecting you to put up some sort of resistance. Regardless, he seemed pleased with himself, glad to have gotten you to agree to take a small but needed break. “Good, come on, I'm going to make us some hot chocolate,” he said, nudging you so that you'd follow him to the kitchen
You get up, stretching your back and letting out a sigh as it cracks, “That actually sounds really good, I'm sorry for being such a horrible guest,” you apologize as you follow after him.
He waved off your apology as you entered the kitchen, “You have nothing to apologize for; you’re not used to spending breaks with people, I get it.” Charles prepared two cups of hot chocolate, topping them off with marshmallows and candy canes, handing a mug to you, “Drink up,” he gestured to the mug in your hand, “It’ll warm you up.”
“You got anything strong I can put in here?”
Charles raised a brow at your question, a small smile forming on his face. “There's a bottle of rum in the cabinet somewhere,” he rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out the bottle, pouring a shot or two into both drinks.
You took a sip of your mug, sighing contentedly as the warm liquid passed down your throat. He smiled at you as the look of annoyance left your face, quickly being replaced by a look of peace. “This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you.”
“Yeah, well if you pass the bottle I’ll be even more relaxed.”
A few more drinks later and you were visibly more relaxed, the conversation between you flowing comfortably unlike it had the past few days.
“Why’d you invite me to spend the break with you?” you asked, placing your drink on the counter.
“I invited you because I actually really like you,” he drunkenly confesses, reaching out to fix a strand of your hair that had gone askew.
“Yeah, but we can’t really do anything about it– not smart since we work together.”
Charles places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, resting his forehead against yours, “We can pretend we can, even if it's just during the holidays,” he whispers, placing a quick kiss to your lips.
“Maybe,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.
The rest of your time in the chalet was devoted to exploring the ‘relationship’ that you knew would be short lived. The days blurred together as you spent hours sharing kisses and lounging in bed together. And when the holidays came to end you were forced back into the professional relationship you had before. Occasionally, you noticed a look of reminiscence in Charles' eyes as you filmed him but knew that nothing would ever come of it– at least not until the next holiday.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚note: so sorry this took me so long to upload, December has not been my month. That being said, I hope it was at least okay, and thank you for reading
Thank you much for 200 followers. I'm literally going to cry 🫶 I definitely want to do something so keep an eye out for that, but thank you so so much. I can't even begin to express my gratitude. I love you all (or is that weird lol)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: minimal swearing, mentions of alcohol no use of y/n, pretend this makes sense
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.7k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: Oscar experiences that absolute shit show that can be Thanksgiving or Oscar's first Thanksgiving with your family
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Your family had begged you to invite Oscar to the annual Thanksgiving dinner and, with hesitance, you did. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to join in the celebration, rather you knew that your family could be much, especially during the holidays. But wasn’t that the case for every family? It was like the holiday season brought a weird tension.
Oscar looked at the front of the home you had grown up in, letting out a nervous breath as you reached to open the small gate that separated you from the yard. “Are you ready?”
He gave you a nervous laugh, “As ready as I can be.” You had warned him, multiple times, about your family's antics. From the nosy aunts, who would undoubtedly interrogate him all night, to the loose-lipped brother. He wasn’t sure if they like him or even tolerate him, but he knew what to expect– or at least he thought so.
“They’ll love you, trust me” you said, opening the gate and taking a small step into the front yard. Oscar smiled at you, liking the confidence you had in his ability to make a good first impression.
“I trust you,” he gave you a small nod, his eyes flickering down to your lips, moving to stand closer to you.
The moment was interrupted by the noise of the front door being swung open, your mom standing below it with a wide smile. She called out to you, walking down the steps of the porch to envelope you in a tight hug. Your mom held you for a moment before turning her attention to Oscar, smiling at him and giving him an equally tight hug. “You must be Oscar, it's so good to finally meet you,” she said, pulling away from him, “We’re still cooking up a storm, so I’d recommend staying out of the kitchen, but make yourself at home– because, well, you are home,” she said, urging you inside before retreating into the kitchen to resume cooking.
You led Oscar into the house, taking off your coats and placing them on the coat rack. The house smelled like all sorts of food and baked goods, it was evident that you all would be eating a great deal. He stopped at the hallway, his eyes scanning the walls and the pictures that decorated them. “She likes you,” you told him, taking a hold of his hand.
Oscar took in every family photo, smiling, his gaze lingering at the ones from your childhood, “you think so?” he asked, turning to face you, his hand squeezing your own.
“Mmhm, absolutely.”
He smiled at you, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Oscar glanced around, as if he were a child about to steal a cookie from a cookie jar, deciding the coast was clear he wrapped his hands around your hips. His lips found yours, his hands slipping under your sweater and gently squeezing at your skin. Your lips tasted like the lipgloss you had applied earlier, a taste that Oscar had grown to love in the months you had been dating. He deepened the kiss, a hand coming up to tangle in your hair.
“I am definitely going to gouge my eyes out,” said a voice you found all too familiar, causing you to jump away from Oscar.
Oscar turned to look at the direction in which the voice came, noticing a man leaning against the doorframe that led to the living room. Your brother stood there, a smirk on his face, he looked similar to you besides a few small differences in features. “What the hell is your problem?” you whispered harshly, glaring at your brother as you straightened yourself up.
Your brother smiled at Oscar, extending his hand out as a greeting, “You two need to be aware of your surroundings” he said as Oscar shook his hand.
“You need to stop being such a creep,” you quipped.
“A creep, me?” your brother asked, holding back a smile, “says the girl who just a second ago had her boyfriends tongue shoved down her throat like a fucking vacuum.”
Oscar bit back a laugh, clearly amused by the situation, almost enjoying the way in which your face filled with embarrassment. You hadn’t lied when you said your brother said anything and everything that came to his mind. “How much is she paying you?” your brother asked Oscar, continuing to tease you.
He turned to look at you, expecting you to lash out at your brother but found you only shaking your head at him. “No payment,” Oscar said, “It's all voluntary.”
is“Oh just piss off,” you said, playfully shoving your brother aside. He smiled at that, finding it amusing that you were more vocal against him while Oscar was around. Your brother prepared himself to speak again before being cut off, “Mooom! He’s bothering us!” you called for your mom, who yelled at your brother from the kitchen.
He glared at you, flicking you off, “You’re such a baby, can’t handle shit,” he grumbled, leaving you and Oscar alone again.
“He's so annoying.”
Oscar smiled at you as you returned to his side, clearly still annoyed by your brother's behaviour, “He loves you, that's why he annoys you so much. It's a brother thing.” His eyes lingered on your lips, clearly wanting to continue your earlier actions but scared that another family member would magically materialize.
“Sure he does, come on, I want you to meet my dad,” you said, reaching for Oscar's hand again, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.
“Lead the way.”
You led him down the hall to the living room, where your father would undoubtedly be watching a game of football. As you approached, your father glanced over his shoulder from the couch to get a look at you, noticing your intertwined hands.
“Hey,” you greeted, pulling Oscar along to sit on the couch opposite of your dad, who greeted you with a soft ‘Hey’ and nod before turning his attention back to the game. “Who's winning?” you asked. Your dad grumbled, it was obvious that the team your family rooted for was losing, although your dad held out the hope that they’d make a comeback. He looked at Oscar for some time, trying to make an opinion of him. “This is Oscar,” you said, introducing him to your dad.
He smiled at Oscar, extending his hand out for him to shake, “Yeah, I know who he is,” he says, his eyes returning to intently watch the television, “you always look like you’re desperately trying to cover up your stressed attitude on the TV.”
You let out a small laugh at that, causing Oscar to smile, “I suppose I do look rather tense from time to time,” he responded.
Your dad takes another look at Oscar, “Make her cry and I’ll break your kneecaps,” he says with a smile, making it obvious that his threat was empty. Oscar let out a laugh, nodding at your dads words. It was clear that Oscar wasn’t the first to be given such warnings.
“He's just messing with you– he wouldn't hurt a fly,” you assure Oscar, playfully glaring at your dad, a smile painting itself on your own face. Your dad chuckled, it was obvious that your dad was only joking around with him.
“He likes you,” I whisper to Oscar.
You sit with your dad for a while, only half paying attention to the game before the doorbell rang. The sound of new voices filling the house as your relatives arrived for dinner. Your dad shook his head, letting out a sigh, “Let the chaos begin.”
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You sat at a long table filled to the brim with different Thanksgiving foods. A turkey sat in the middle, surrounded by the usual sides like mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. It was like those stereotypical Thanksgiving dinners you see in movies. Oscar was starting to feel overwhelmed by all the simultaneous talking and smells.
“So, when's the wedding?” one of your aunts, Victoria was her name– she was the most nosy of them, asked expectantly.
Poor Oscar nearly choked on the mouthful of turkey he had been eating, the sudden question taking him by complete surprise. He looked down at you with wide eyes, pleading you to answer before he said the wrong thing.
“We haven’t really discussed that– I mean, we’ve only been dating for so long,” you responded. She raised an eyebrow at you and Oscar, amused by the way in which you had avoided truthfully answering her question. It was almost as if she wasn’t too convinced by your answer.
“Leave them alone,” your mom said, attempting to jump to your defense.
“Please,” you whispered, eyes glued to your plate as you moved the contents around with your fork, your hunger seeming to have abandoned you as the questioning began.
“I’m only teasing,” your aunt gave a small wave, clearly unphased by your moms words, “Do you want children?”
Oscar took a sip of his wine, attempting to keep cool after that very personal question. He could feel your eyes on him, and he reached down to hold onto your hand. “Children?” he said with a nervous laugh, “We haven’t really talked about that either,” he said, looking down at his plate to avoid eye contact.
“But surely you must have an opinion of your own,” your aunt added.
He took another sip of his wine, silently hoping they’d find someone else to interrogate, “I mean, yeah,” he started, playing with your fingers as if to distract himself, “Yes, I’d want kids… just not anytime soon– we’re still so young,” he looked at you warmly, a small smile appearing on his lips as he answered.
“Oh he's perfect,” your grandma said from beside your mom, smiling widely at Oscar. Her comment made both of your parents smile, seemingly agreeing with what she had said, it was clear that Oscar had made a good first impression. He smiled at you, his smile growing as you kissed his cheek as your family finally moved on to their next victim.
Dinner continued with more questioning, your family left you and Oscar alone for the most part, and more eating. Afterwards you all gathered in the living room to watch whatever Christmas movie had been picked that year. And as you rested your head on Oscar's shoulder, he felt as if he could get used to Thanksgiving with your family– no matter how intrusive their questions may be.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: This is in no way me condoning the myth of the first thanksgiving. And it is important to acknowledge the atrocities committed against the indigenous people since the arrival of the English. please ignore the spelling or grammar mistakes, I've got to go make mac and cheese– peace out and happy turkey day to anyone who feasts on this day.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: small amount of angst, minimal swearing, no use of y/n, short and honestly not that good
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 900
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: Lando regrets the everything that has happened between you. Part two to this: part one
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Lando had silently hoped your Instagram stories only served to make him jealous. Perhaps you simply wanted to show him what he had lost– of course that had been nothing but wishful thinking, having heard from a mutual friend that you were indeed seeing some guy. He stood at the door of your apartment, hand slightly raised as he debated whether he should knock or not.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to knock?” the sound of your voice shaking him out of his thoughts.
He hadn’t seen you in months, you looked as radiant as ever, “I miss you,” he blurted out, voice slightly shaky as he reached a hand out towards you,“I made a mistake, a big one, I know I did. I lie awake every night thinking about it.”
He noticed your hesitance, he wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to reading people despite what you thought of him. “Why don’t you come in, have something to drink,” you sighed, digging through your purse, attempting to find your keys.
“Thank you,” he said softly, watching as you opened the door to your apartment, letting him in and closing the door behind you. He scanned the living room for any sign of your moving on, perhaps a coat left by your new lover or a picture of a sentimental moment hanging on the wall, but he found none. Instead he was greeted by the same living room he had come to know during the duration of your complicated friendship.
“I guess we have a lot to talk about,” you led him to your kitchen, hand shaking as you poured him a glass of water, “do you want anything else to drink?” he shook his head, taking a sip of water.
“I don’t know where to start,” he admits, nervously running a hand through his hair. He was nervous, something he had never been around you. Lando had always been a confident person, especially around you, this was new. “Are you seeing anyone?” he asks.
“What?” you were confused by the sudden question, it hadn’t been what you expected him to say, far from it. There wasn’t anything that could have come out of his mouth that would have been expected but this was certainly one of the least possible things you would expect. In fact, maybe, an apology would have been more appropriate than whatever he intended with that question.
“I think I’m in love with you, and if you’re seeing someone then it complicates things. I saw that guy on your instagram– but that doesn’t change how I feel,” he rambled out a confession, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his hair.
“You think?”
“I am, I am so in love with you. And I made the worst mistake of my life, I know that. I just need another chance,” he said, desperately pleading with you, his tone the most serious you had ever heard from him. It hurt you, it hurt to know that it had taken him years to realize this. His eyes never leaving your face, hoping to find any sort of reaction that would reveal that your feelings for him hadn’t changed despite his foul treatment.
“Lando…” you started. He hated the way you said his name, how soft your voice still sounded despite the evident pain. “You hurt me in many ways. It was as if you saw me as less than human, just something to satisfy whatever needs you had,” you felt tears start to well up in your eyes, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep calm. “And now you show up at my front door claiming to be in love with me? I find it all hard to believe.”
You remember one night that had been particularly hurtful– the night of your birthday. Lando had called you earlier that day, inviting himself over to your apartment. You had wishfully thought that he had remembered your birthday, despite the fact that he had yet to acknowledge it. When he had finally arrived that night you were not greeted with the words “Happy Birthday”. Instead he pushed his way into your home, kissing you and whispering against your skin about how much he needed you. It wasn’t until a week later that he had even noticed that your birthday had passed. So to say that you couldn’t believe Lando had truly changed was an understatement, but even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget about your feelings towards him.
“I’m not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to give me another chance– an opportunity to prove to you that what I feel for you is real, that I truly do love you,” Lando took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush away a stubborn tear that had made its way past the threshold of your eyes.
“One chance,” you whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.
“So you’re not seeing that guy you’ve been posting on your Instagram?”
“He’s my cousin,” you said with a small teary laugh, placing a kiss on his nose.
And maybe things would be different than they had been before. Maybe this time he wouldn’t ditch you at events for models who made you insecure or forget your birthday. This time he wouldn’t make you hate the way you looked. But only time would tell.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Note: I had a lot I wanted to do for this but lost motivation and I didn't want to just scrap the whole fic so... yeah, I know its shit but I've had a rough month. Anyway, I just wanted to give the original a happy ending. My Decemeber shorts will be better (I hope), peace out
they've been dating for a whole year but they end up breaking up over something stupid just before the summer break randomly and both are too egoistic to kiss and make up. they dont tell anyone fast forward max and kelly are getting married and they've booked a villa somewhere and basically everyones invited and lando and mc have to share a room and stuff cause ppl dont know theyve broken up carlos would thrash him and besides that they didnt want anyone feeling weird like they were walking on eggshells w them and during the trip they pretend theyre still together but their real feelings which is still very much there blurs the lines between acting and reality and they cant keep their hands off each other and then a very intense hot confession that they shouldnt have broken up and MAKEUP SEX and lando ends up blurting out all this during the reception or something and carlos chases him but its all good and happy ending cued:)
Never Really Over
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆Thank you for requesting⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?
.ೃ࿐request: found here
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It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least.
You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night.
“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined.
“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”
“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger.
“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”
“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”
“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back.
“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”
The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding.
You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval.
“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.”
He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.
“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.”
“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days.
“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face.
“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”
“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.
ʚ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”
“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong.
“Hm?”
“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile.
Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control.
“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.”
“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend.
“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back.
“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”
“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.
Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner.
“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing.
“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest.
His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps.
“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”
“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you.
His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck.
“And?”
“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”
You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss.
Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in.
The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.
“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache.
“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.
ʚ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes.
You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind.
You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you.
“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando.
“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando.
“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words.
“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh.
“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.
“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face.
“Yeah.”
“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”
“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior.
He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor.
Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped.
Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.
Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”
You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face.
Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.
“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”
“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying.
It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one.
“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes.
“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge.
He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless.
You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”
Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them.
You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you.
Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.
“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“But teasing you is so fun.”
You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk.
“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers.
Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so.
“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out.
“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath.
“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky.
“Definitely.”
“Should we go back?”
“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.
ʚ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled.
You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment.
“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that.
“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)
well 🧍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.
