risk ? lando norris

⭑

𝐍𝐨𝐚

I wake up in layers.

First, to the warmth. Then to the weight of a heavy arm draped over my waist. And finally—to the horrifying realization that I am very, very naked.

Panic prickles beneath my skin before I even open my eyes. Shit. Shit shit sh—

"You're thinking too hard."

Lando's voice is raspy, sleep-drenched, and way too smug for someone who's literally spooning me while I'm having a full internal crisis.

"I'm not," I lie immediately, eyes still shut.

He hums like he doesn't believe me for a second, which—fair. I'm pretty sure I'm holding my body so stiffly I could be mistaken for a mannequin.

He shifts slightly behind me, and I become very aware of every single place we're touching. Which is... all of them.

"Relax," he murmurs, nuzzling the back of my neck. "You didn't commit a crime."

"That we know of," I mutter.

He chuckles, and I want to melt into the mattress and never resurface. "You're cute when you spiral."

"Don't make this worse."

"Oh come on," he says, stretching slightly before pulling me even closer. "You're acting like we accidentally ran over a puppy. It was sex. Great sex, if I may add. And no one died."

I groan, dragging a pillow over my face. "Lando, please. I can't do this while you're being casual and... chipper."

He tugs the pillow away with ease, smirking down at me. His hair is a mess, his eyes still half-lidded from sleep, and he's got this ridiculous crooked grin that should not be allowed in the early hours of the day.

"I'm not being casual," he says. "I'm being me. Which means making fun of you and cuddling you at the same time."

I narrow my eyes at him, but there's no real fire behind it. "I don't do this."

He softens. "I know." Silence stretches between us for a second. "Was it bad?" he asks, completely serious.

I blink at him. "What?"

"The sex. You're acting like I ruined your life. Did I do something wrong? Or was it just... too intense? Too good?" He grins. "It's okay, you can say it. You're overwhelmed by my talent."

I groan again, burying my face in his chest this time. "Oh my God, I hate you."

"You do not," he says easily, wrapping both arms around me like I haven't just died of embarrassment. "You like me and you had mind-blowing sex with me and now your brain can't compute it."

"Stop talking."

"Make me."

I lift my head, glare at him. "Do not test me this early in the morning."

He just smiles, boyish and bright. "You're not freaking out anymore."

And—dammit. He's right. My heart's still racing, but it's not panic anymore. It's... something else. Something lighter.

I exhale slowly. "This is weird."

"It's only weird if you make it weird."

"You are weird."

"Yeah," he says with a wink. "But you still slept with me. Twice, technically."

I smack him with the pillow this time, and he lets out a delighted laugh, tackling me back into the sheets. It's messy and soft and completely ridiculous.