Summary ━━━━━ Lando absolutely loves to cum on your body. Something about you being all marked by him. He thought he had it all, but then he discovers a new spot to cum on.
Word count ━━━━━ 3,2k
The headboard of the bed is a steady, rhythmic drum against the wall, a frantic beat that matches the pounding of your heart. Lando is above you, his body a perfect, powerful machine, his hips driving into yours with a relentless, primal rhythm. His hands are planted on either side of your head, his biceps taut, the muscles in his chest and abdomen flexing with every deep, punishing thrust. You're lost in the sensation, the feeling of him filling you completely, stretching you in a way that is both overwhelming and utterly perfect.
Your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, silently begging for more. The room is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the air heavy with your ragged breaths and the slick sounds of your bodies joining. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense, a swirling vortex of lust and something deeper, something possessive. He loves watching you like this, loves seeing the pleasure on your face, knowing he's the one who put it there.
"You feel so good," he grunts, his voice a low, strained rasp. "So tight for me."
He shifts his angle slightly, and the new depth sends a jolt of pure electricity through you. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, your nails digging into the sweat-slick skin of his shoulders. He hits that spot again, and again, a calculated, deliberate assault on your senses that has you teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"That's it, baby," he growls, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming shorter, more erratic. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
He doesn't finish his sentence. With a guttural groan, he pulls out of you suddenly, leaving you feeling achingly empty. Before you can even process the loss, he's kneeling over you, his hand wrapped around his glistening, throbbing cock. He strokes it once, twice, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration.
A low moan tears from his throat as he cums. You watch, completely mesmerized, as thick, white ropes of his release spurt from the tip, painting your stomach with himself. He shudders, his body going rigid as he empties himself onto your skin.
When he's finished, he stays there for a moment, his chest heaving, his eyes slowly opening to look down at his handiwork. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. He loves this part. He loves seeing his mark on you, a tangible proof of his desire.
"So pretty," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. He reaches out with his index finger, dipping it into the warm, viscous pool on your stomach. He slowly traces a path with it, swirling his cum across your skin, spreading it like a precious lotion. He paints a lazy circle around your navel, then drags his finger upwards, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. He's an artist, and you are his canvas. He rubs it into your skin, a slow, possessive massage, his touch both gentle and commanding. The sight is intoxicating, the feeling of his warm essence being worked into your skin making your head spin.
You are on you're on your hands and knees, the silk sheets cool against your palms. Lando is behind you, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as he pounds into you from behind. This position is different, more raw, more animalistic. Each thrust drives you forward, the force of it stealing your breath. He's deep, so incredibly deep, and the angle is devastating, hitting every sensitive nerve ending with unerring accuracy.
One of his hands leaves your hip and slides up your spine, his fingers tracing the curve of your back before tangling in your hair. He gives a gentle tug, pulling your head back, forcing your arch to deepen. The slight sting on your scalp only adds to the overwhelming pleasure.
"Look at you," he pants, his voice rough with exertion. "Taking my cock so well."
His free hand snakes around your body, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs tight, desperate circles, the dual stimulation almost too much to bear. Your arms begin to tremble, your body threatening to collapse under the onslaught of sensation. You can feel another orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure gathering in the depths of your core, ready to crash over you.
"Lando, please," you whimper, your voice a broken, desperate plea.
He knows exactly what you're asking for. He increases the pressure on your clit, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. "Come for me, baby," he commands. "Now."
The command shatters your control. Your orgasm tears through you, a violent, convulsing wave of ecstasy that leaves you gasping and trembling. Your pussy clenches around him, a rhythmic, pulsing grip that milks his cock. He groans, his rhythm faltering as he feels your release.
He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you're a boneless, quivering mess. Then, just as you feel him begin to thicken inside you, he pulls out again.
You collapse onto your side, your body limp and sated, but you know he's not done. You feel the bed shift as he moves, straddling your thighs. You look back over your shoulder to see him kneeling behind you, his hand working his cock, his gaze fixed on the back of your legs.
He lets out a low hiss, and you feel the first hot splash of his cum on the back of your thigh. It's followed by another, and another, painting your skin in long, wet stripes. He aims carefully, covering the soft, sensitive flesh of your upper legs with his release. The sight is incredibly erotic, the contrast of his pearly white cum against your skin a stark, beautiful testament to his lust.
When he's finished, he leans forward, his breath hot against the back of your neck. He doesn't just look this time. He touches. He uses the tip of his cock to smear his cum across your skin, mixing it with the sweat that glistens there. He spreads it over the curve of your ass, his touch possessive and deliberate. Then, he does something that makes your breath catch. He scoops some of his cum up with his fingers, and without a word, he slides them between your legs, pushing his own release back inside your still-pulsing pussy. He pushes it deep, his fingers curling, making sure you take every last drop.
"Mine," he whispers against your ear, the word a vow, a brand.
Later, the light in the room is softer, the golden hues of late afternoon filtering through the blinds. You're lying on your back, and Lando is between your legs, his movements slow and languid. This isn't the frantic, desperate fucking from before. This is something else, something deeper. He's making love to you, his thrusts long and deep, his eyes never leaving yours. It's an intimate, almost reverent connection, a silent conversation of bodies.
Your hands are roaming over his back, feeling the shift and play of his muscles under his skin. You can feel the tension leaving his body, the frantic energy from earlier replaced by a deep, contented hum. He's savoring this, savoring you.
He leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It's a kiss that speaks of a thousand unspoken words, of a love that runs deeper than the physical. He rolls his hips, a slow, grinding motion that sends a deep, resonant pleasure through your entire body. You moan into his mouth, your legs tightening around his waist.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. His breath is warm on your face, his eyes closed. "I love being inside you," he murmurs, his voice a raw, honest confession. "Love feeling you around me."
He continues to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds the pleasure not into a sharp peak, but into a vast, rolling wave. It's a different kind of orgasm, one that builds from the inside out, a full-body experience that leaves you feeling cherished and utterly consumed.
You feel him begin to tense, his control finally starting to slip. His thrusts become a little harder, a little faster. But this time, he doesn't pull out. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his body shuddering as he finds his release deep inside you. You feel the hot, powerful spurts of his cum coating your inner walls, a primal, possessive act that fills you with a profound sense of completeness.
He stays inside you as he comes down from his high, his weight a comforting, grounding presence. He presses soft, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder, his body still trembling slightly. When he finally pulls out, you feel the slow, warm trickle of his cum leaking out of you, a tangible reminder of his possession.
He lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady, calming beat of his heart. His hand strokes your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. For a long time, you just lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow.
You're on your knees on the plush carpet in front of the bed, Lando standing before you. His hands are in your hair, his fingers tangled in the strands, holding you in place. You're looking up at him, your mouth open, your tongue out in a silent invitation. He's looking down at you, his expression one of pure, unadulterated lust, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. His cock is hard and heavy in front of your face, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
He doesn't need to say a word. You lean forward, closing your lips around the head of his cock. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty, slightly bitter flavor of his arousal. He groans, his fingers tightening in your hair, a silent encouragement. You take him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his length, your lips stretching around his thick girth.
You set a steady rhythm, bobbing your head, your tongue working along the sensitive underside of his shaft. You love this, the power you hold in this position, the way you can reduce this strong, powerful man to a quivering mess with just your mouth. His hips begin to move, a shallow, tentative thrusting that gradually becomes more confident, more demanding. He's fucking your mouth now, his movements controlled but firm.
You look up at him, your eyes watering slightly, and the sight of you on your knees, your lips stretched around his cock, is his undoing. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his body going taut. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warns, his voice strained.
You don't pull back. You stay where you are, your eyes locked on his, ready to take everything he has to give. With a final, deep thrust, he spills into your mouth. The first hot jet hits the back of your throat, and you swallow instinctively. He continues to pulse, his cum filling your mouth, a thick, warm flood. You hold it there for a moment, savoring the taste, the texture, the sheer intimacy of the act, before swallowing it all down.
When he's finished, he slowly pulls out, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. He reaches down, his thumb gently wiping a stray drop from the corner of your mouth. He looks at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and a deep, lingering affection.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky praise.
The light has faded completely now, the room bathed in the soft, silver glow of the moon. You're lying on your side, and Lando is curled around you, his chest pressed against your back. He's incredibly hard and already slick with his own pre-cum, his cock nudging against the cleft of your ass. He enters you from behind, a slow, easy glide that has you sighing in contentment. This is a familiar, comforting position, a lazy, unhurried fuck in the quiet of the night.
His arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you close. His other hand is gently cupping your breast, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. His thrusts are slow and deep, a gentle rocking motion that is less about chasing a frantic orgasm and more about a deep, soulful connection. It's a quiet, intimate dance, a shared breath in the darkness.
He nuzzles your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of soft, warm kisses. "You're mine," he whispers, the words a soft, possessive murmur against your ear. "All mine."
You answer by pushing back against him, taking him deeper, a silent affirmation of his claim. He continues to move inside you, a slow, steady rhythm that gradually builds the pleasure into a slow, burning ember. It's not a fire, but a deep, resonant heat that spreads through your entire body, leaving you feeling cherished and utterly possessed.
He continues his lazy thrusts, his hand on your stomach pressing you closer, his other hand gently kneading your breast. You can feel the tension slowly coiling in his body again, a quiet, gathering storm. His breathing becomes a little more ragged, his thrusts a little more deliberate.
He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily bereft, but you know what's coming. He shifts, moving to straddle your chest. You push your breasts together, creating a soft, warm channel for him. He groans as he slides his cock between them, the sensitive skin of his shaft enveloped by your soft flesh.
He starts to move, his hips rocking, his cock sliding back and forth. The sight of him disappearing into the valley of your breasts, the head glistening and emerging with each thrust, is incredibly erotic. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, his jaw clenched with concentration. He loves this, loves the sight of his cock claiming this part of you.
His movements become faster, more erratic. He's close. With a final, powerful thrust, he cums. You feel the hot, wet splash of his release as it lands between your breasts, pooling in the hollow of your throat. He shudders, his body going rigid as he empties himself, painting your skin with his essence.
When he's finished, he stays there for a moment, his cock resting between your cum-slicked breasts. He looks down at the mess he's made, a slow, satisfied smile gracing his lips. He reaches out, his fingers dipping into the pearly white fluid. He doesn't just spread it this time. He traces patterns, drawing a line up your sternum, circling each of your nipples, making them glisten in the moonlight. He's marking you, adorning you, turning your skin into his personal masterpiece.
The final time is different. It's raw, almost desperate. He's fucking you missionary, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your bodies pressed together so closely there's no space between you. The room is dark, the only light the faint glow of the city coming through the window. His face is buried in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. His thrusts are hard and deep, a frantic, almost punishing rhythm that speaks of a deep, primal need.
Your hands are gripping his ass, pulling him into you, meeting him thrust for thrust. There's no finesse, no teasing, just a raw, animalistic fucking. It's a desperate, hungry act, a way to erase the world, to exist only in this moment, in this shared space of sweat and pleasure and need.
You can feel another orgasm building, a sharp, intense pressure that's threatening to overwhelm you. "Lando," you gasp, your voice a broken, desperate plea.
He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. They're wild, unfocused, burning with an intensity that takes your breath away. He's chasing his own release, his movements becoming more and more erratic.
He pulls out suddenly, his movements sharp and almost violent. He kneels over you, his hand wrapping around his cock, stroking it with a fierce, desperate urgency. He's aiming for your stomach, his usual target, his eyes fixed on the soft skin of your belly.
But then, something changes. His gaze flickers upwards, from your stomach to your face, to your lips, which are parted in a silent gasp. A new, darker, more desperate hunger floods his eyes. It's a sudden, overwhelming urge, a need he's never acted on before.
With a guttural groan, he aims higher.
You feel the hot, wet splash of his cum on your cheek. It's a shock, a bold, intimate claim that takes you completely by surprise. Another spurt lands on the corner of your mouth, and then on your chin. He shudders, his body convulsing as he empties himself onto your face, marking you in the most primal way possible.
When he's finished, he's breathing heavily, his chest heaving. He looks down at you, at the pearly white fluid glistening on your skin, and the look on his face is one of awe, of utter reverence.
He reaches out with his thumb, his touch incredibly gentle. He slowly, carefully, wipes the cum from your cheek. Then, he brings his thumb to your lips. He doesn't wipe it away. He spreads it, using his cum as a glossy, intimate balm, coating your lips until they shine with his essence. It's a possessive, breathtakingly erotic act, a final, silent claim.
He leans down and kisses you, a slow, deep kiss, tasting himself on your lips. It's a kiss that seals a vow, a promise of ownership, a testament to a desire that knows no bounds.
The heavy door to Lando's driver's room clicks shut behind you, letting the organized chaos of the McLaren garage become hearable again. The air in the narrow hallway is cooler, a welcome relief from the thick warmth of Lando’s room. Lando's hand is warm and firm in yours, a familiar anchor in the sea of noise and activity that is the Monaco paddock. He's zipping up the top half of his race suit, the material whispering as he pulls the zipper to his chest, his movements unhurried and relaxed.
You walk side-by-side, your shoulders brushing occasionally. Lando’s skin is radiating warmth, even through the thick material of his race suit. Your face is hot and your lips feels tingly.
As you turn towards the main thoroughfare, a girl from the hospitality team is coming down the hall, a stack of laminated schedules in her arms. She's bright and cheerful, her smile genuine as she recognizes you both.
"Lando! Y/n! Good luck today," she says, her eyes flicking between you before landing on you. "Oh, wow, I love your lip gloss Y/n! It's so pretty. What shade is that? It has the most amazing sheen."
You stop walking, a slow, deliberate smirk spreading across your face. You don't answer her. Instead, you tilt your head back and look up at Lando. He meets your gaze, his own lips curling into a knowing, smug smile. His dark eyes holding yours for a beat longer than necessary. He knows exactly what's making your lips shine, and the pride in his expression is unmistakable.
i think it's genuinely crazy that oscar saw lando going "nah" and acting like this
and instead of interpreting that as "oh he just doesn't want any snacks," he (correctly) assumes that lando meant he wants the other bag of snacks instead. no verbal exchanges needed. bonkers
bro look at his face. my guy was #LOCKED_IN
even crazier when you realize he didn't even want anything from the red bag. he didn't even know what he offered lando and what he kept for himself. his first instinct was to just offer up whatever he could that would make lando happy. what if i kms
nooooooo don't be a coward, write the fic!!! We could never judge you, we want the filth!!! ALL of it!!!
Swallow | LN⁴
🔸️ inspired by this ask
🔸️ summary ──── Summer break is about to end, which is why they are taking advantage of every moment of peace they have left before returning to the real world.
🔸️ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
🔸️ rating ──── explicit
🔸️ warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, enclosed environment, sexual innuendo, cursing, light teasing, smut, oral ─ (f)receiving, cum play & spitting, unprotected sex, overstimulation, Lando is obsessed, fluff at the end, bittersweet because they don’t want summer to end (this was sitting unedited in my drafts since late August oopsies).
🔸️ word count ──── 2.7k
🔸️ date ──── Nov. 12, 2025
🔸️ a/n ──── I know it’s been a couple of months and this is barely enough, but I’ve been facing the horrors, my friends, and they persist (both physically and mentally). I’m trying to go back into writing one-shots, but the updates might come a bit slower, because when I’m not around, my writer mind is plagued with scenarios and schemes for the book I’m (still) attempting to get to a complete first draft. It’s... a lot of work, but thank you for being so patient with me. Next update coming soon (hopefully) 😁🤞🏻
📍 A secluded cove on the Costa Brava, Spain
IT BEGAN TO rain in the morning, and by lunchtime, it became clear that the weather had settled on a mood of its own. The sound of raindrops against the windows has become the rhythm of the day, shattering any hope they had of spending at least a few hours on the beach before their vacation ends and having to return to real life.
The resort they are staying at looks beautiful even under grey skies, though. Pale stone walls glisten wet, and beyond the balcony, the palm trees bend lazily with the weight of the storm.
Inside their room, curtains sway lazily with the evening breeze, blending the smell of salt from the sea outside with the smell of sex from the hours they’ve spent tangled in each other, since they couldn’t find another activity to keep them busy. Although they tried to watch a Spanish movie that was on, but quickly got bored of throwing incorrect translations at each other.
She lies against him now, her body looking like a beautiful wreck of exhaustion, skin warm and newly tanned. She’s draped in one of his white shirts, though it does little to hide the curve of her thighs or the heat radiating off her still.
Lando knows he should let her sleep. There is still plenty of time until dinner, and the fact that they’ll have to wake up early to catch their flight is just another reason why they both need to rest. They’ve been at it all afternoon — he swears it wasn’t his intention, but can’t complain either — and the faint pink marks his fingers left on her hips remind him just how rough he can get in the haze of her pleas.
Truth be told, his cock hasn’t stayed soft for longer than a couple of hours at a time since they arrived. One glance at his girlfriend, seeing her sweaty and ruined by him, and he’s suddenly hard again, obsessed with the way she falls apart under his touch. Again and again, no matter how many times he had brought her to this state before.
A small smile curls at his lips as he lets his hand slip under the hem of the shirt. The skin of her stomach is silky smooth, hot and familiar, but lower, his fingers graze the sticky mess he left buried inside her. It makes him sigh quietly, her face distorting in pleasure being the only image his mind can still project.
Careful not to wake her yet, Lando nudges her knees apart, making more room for himself between them. The sight alone has him swallowing hard, her thighs parting for him like instinct. His heart kicks in his chest, but it isn’t nerves. At this point, it’s pure madness. He lives for worshiping her, keeping her full, reminding her times on end that no matter how needy she gets, he’ll always be there to take care of her.
When he’s close enough, her scent hits him full force, sweet and dizzying in the way it makes his mouth water like he’s been conditioned to; he is sure nothing in the world tastes that good. She lingers on his tongue, in his lungs, in every heartbeat that stumbles when she’s near. It’s the way she’s so deep under his skin to the point it turned him into someone who forgets where he ends and she begins. He’s simply transfixed by the sight of her, used and wrecked, already stretched by the thick weight of him, and he has to remind himself that he can still be a man who knows restraint, even when every part of him is aching to give in. It should make him feel guilty, but then Lando remembers all the times she begged him to fuck her harder, and any trace of guilt evaporates under the memory that gives him goosebumps every time he recalls it.
She did this to him without even trying, and he let her.
Would let her again.
Would let himself fall from grace, if it meant she’d smile when he landed.
Gently, with the kind of patience only she brings out in him, he drags a finger up her slit, gathering every bit of slick that’s leaking from her. He has to bite back a whimper in the process, forcing himself to stay quiet in case she stirs. Then slowly, he eases one finger inside, and the reaction is instant: her body clamps down on him like she’s been waiting for it all along, pulling at his finger with such greedy tightness it makes his breath catch. As a reaction, the girl lets out a soft cry, but she doesn’t fully wake.
Knowing he’s running out of time, Lando leans in, mouth parting, and presses his tongue flat against her swollen folds. The same taste that haunts his dreams floods his senses now, both salty and sweet and achingly familiar, a hum of relief coming out of his throat. The sound vibrates through her, makes her hips twitch subconsciously, pushing closer to his mouth as if even in this in-between state, she knows he won’t fail to make her see stars.
Lando closes his eyes, lost to the sensation of her warmth and softness coating his tongue. He licks long stripes along her clit, soothing the soreness he left behind with tender strokes. Every little squirm of hers drives him deeper into that madness, unintentionally causing him to crave more of her: more sounds, more reactions, more proof that she’ll always be his most intoxicating obsession.
Gradually, his breath kicks up, his cock straining painfully against the mattress as he grinds down, just trying to take the edge off while he devours her; the faint whisper of his name on her lips only fuels him further.
Her thighs quiver, then close around his head, wanting to keep him there forever as if it is his home, his safe place.
Lando chuckles against her, but he pries them back open with firm hands on her inner thighs. “Nah, baby. Keep ‘em wide for me.”
And then he’s there, his tongue pushing into her, splitting her open with one goal in mind. She gasps, moaning properly now, fingers darting into his curls, tugging at them with desperation that makes his heart race faster. The more she pulls, the harder he works, flattening his tongue, swirling it, lapping up everything she gives him.
Her voice is music in his ears, breaking on his name, “Lando. Fuck… Lando, please.”
He grins, pulling back to rasp, “There she is,” half growl, half praise, before he dives back in.
This time, he presses his plump lips against her gaping hole, sealing around her with no way of missing anything. And sucks. Hard. His stomach flips, the taste hitting him like a punch: the sharp tang of her arousal, mixed with the saltier remnants of his cum he’d left inside her. It’s borderline obscene, too intimate, and it makes him whine like he’s the one being pleasured.
She cries high in her throat, arching up into his mouth, her body trembling under the assault of his tongue working deep, pulling every drop out of her. Once he’s satisfied and makes sure he can’t gather anymore, Lando lifts his head from between her legs, his lips shining like a blanket of stars on a clear midnight sky. Then he moves fast, bracing himself above her, his curls wild, pupils blown wide with mischief. He opens his mouth and lets the slick he’s been savoring pool on his tongue, then spits it straight into her waiting mouth. She gasps at the heat of it, half-moaning the second he immediately crushes his mouth against hers in a kiss. It’s messy and frantic, spit and cum and her own taste shared between them, their tongues tangling with want that borders on desperation.
He too cannot abstain from the mess between them, moaning as loud into her mouth, gripping her jaw with one hand to keep her there, tasting every bit of the filth they’ve made together before parting slightly.
“Swallow,” he rasps.
She would’ve swallowed on instinct anyway; is second nature by now.
The girl attempts an inhale but chokes, her back arching off the sheets, legs wrapping around his waist. “Come here,” her voice cracks with anticipation, body trembling with desire in every cell. “Get inside, since that’s how you wanna wake me up,” she talks fast, her hand fumbling between them, searching blindly, until she finds him heavy and flushed, aching in her grasp.
It takes nothing more than her guiding him, tugging lightly, for Lando to line himself up with ease. Her body’s ready, dripping from all his teasing, and the moment his tip nudges her opening, it’s like they both break at once. She welcomes him in, her cunt swallowing the thick length, inch by inch.
Lando almost sobs deep in his chest, forehead dropping against hers as he bottoms out, fully seated inside her. His hand instinctively trails down to her neck, fingers tracing its fragile outline, squeezing as he pulls out, only to thrust back in with much force. There’s no patience left in him, and no room for gentleness. The wet sounds of him sliding through her tight heat fill the room, mixing with her breathy moans. Every time his cock hits that spot deep inside, her cry pitches higher, her nails clawing into the arm that keeps her in place, in order to anchor herself.
He shudders, teeth gritted, his thick head dragging perfectly against her sweet spot. He knows it’s only a matter of time before he loses it. Before her walls pull the release out of him and he stuffs her full all over again. The thought alone has his hips driving faster, chasing that inevitable end with every needy thrust.
“Can’t get enough of you,” Lando growls against her lips, his thrusts powerful enough to rattle the frame beneath them. “How am I supposed to go back to work after this?”
Her nails dig further into his bicep, head tipped back against the pillow. “Quit,” she jokes, but Lando still nods in agreement, leaning to steal another kiss.
It turns messy fast, her whimpers slipping out of her throat the moment he thrusts so deep that the bed continues its protests with every snap of his hips.
“Fucking take it, baby,” he pants, voice breaking, “Get your favorite thing, just like that.”
“You’re my favorite thing,” she mewls, her palms cupping each side of his face, pressing her thumb into his lower lip to catch his attention.
The honesty behind her words wreck him. Lando falters only for a heartbeat, his cock throbbing violently inside her before he lets go, the rush hitting him like a tidal wave. White-hot euphoria floods out of him, so hard that it leaks between their joined bodies, dripping down her folds while staring at her face as if seeing her in a new light.
The girl doesn’t break until the very end, her orgasm ripping through her just as he starts to pull out, leaving only his swollen tip stretching her entrance. Pulsing and spent, he holds it there, letting her gush around him, then groans as he pushes back inside a couple more times in order to guide her through it. It’s everything he needed, and more, collapsing against her chest, sweaty and breathless.
She kisses his temple softly, listening to how his breathing evens out, little by little, his hand absentmindedly tracing the slope of her side. As a response, Lando hums with satisfaction, cheek pressed against her skin, eyes sparkling up at her like she’s the only thing in the world.
It would be perfect if she doesn’t immediately push at his shoulder, making him grunt as she twists to reach the nightstand.
“Pardon, where’s your heart? Kicking me off already?” he teases, watching her rummage blindly until her fingers close around a small pack of cinnamon drops.
She smirks, tearing it open and popping one into her mouth before holding the next to his lips. “Not yet,” she replies, voice muffled as she snuggles back against him. “Getting rid of the taste of us before I start craving round… six? That’s crazy,” she laughs. “Should we just accept we’re feral cave people now?”
Lando smirks, sucking on his drop before asking, “Would you rather play sudoku?”
“I can kick your ass at sudoku very well,” the girl shoots him an immediate look.
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a nerd,” he shrugs.
“And what about it?”
“Nothing,” says Lando, his eyebrows raising for a fraction. “I think it’s hot.”
Acting on instinct, his long fingers move to brush along her temple, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The touch is gentle, a small act of innocent love after the avalanche of dirty scenarios that crossed his mind just a few minutes ago; she does that to him. He guides her closer then, until her head finds its place against his bare chest, where his heartbeat thunders steady beneath.
It’s quiet for a while, but then she shighs, pretending to think. In reality, this thought had plagued her mind since the very first day they arrived here. “I don’t wanna leave this place,” she whispers, disturbing the stillness.
Lando can’t answer right away. He’s still too caught up in her and the aftertaste of their connection, content to just hum in return, a soft sound that barely registers in her ears. However, the way he keeps tracing his fingers along her side, tells her everything she needs to know. It’s almost absentminded, the way he touches her, memorizing her in silence, even though his gaze is somewhere far away, not lost, but lingering in that quiet space between satisfaction and exhaustion.
The girl tilts her head to look at him, a faint smile appearing on her face. “Lan? You woke me up like that only to fall asleep on me now?”
His mouth twitches, its corners lifting just a little. “Mhm... sue me.”
She laughs, her hand finding his, fingers brushing along his palm before she laces them together. He squeezes back for a fraction, the pressure of it reassuring.
“We’re still getting dinner later, right?”
With his eyes closed now, Lando lets out a breathy chuckle, “Didn’t you just eat?”
It takes her half a second to register what he means, and when she does, her cheeks flush instantly, blooming a warm, embarrassed red. “Lando,” she warns, mortified but trying not to laugh.
“Don’t blame me?” he says innocently, even though he’s grinning now, “You walked right into that one.”
She drops his hand with a huff only to smack his chest, hard enough to make him flinch and laugh out loud. “Disgusting, disgusting man!”
“Alright, mate. No violence,” he’s twisting away from her swat but too tired to actually escape.
“Stop being an idiot then,” she fires back, though the way her lips fight a smile betrays her.
He finally rolls onto his side to face her, his grin softening into something that looks a lot like gratitude and affection. “Don’t worry, I made reservations,” he says, voice a little rough, exhaution still clinging to the edges of it.
She frowns. “You did?”
Lando nods. “Somewhere nice. So don’t think you’re getting out of wearing that red dress you packed.”
Before she can argue, he’s already tugging her closer to him once again, one arm slipping around her waist. He kisses her gently and unrushed, trying to stretch the moment out as far as it will go. Her fingers curl around his neck, the world outside their little bubble disappearing every time he kisses her like that. And when he finally pulls away, it’s only by a breath, their warmth lingering between them like a string neither of them wants to let go of.
“Thank you,” she says, and Lando knows it goes deeper than him being thoughtful. It’s for all the small things he’s learned without her ever having to say them. For communicating without words.
Thank you for noticing.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you for remembering.
Thank you for making space for me.
“Always.”
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Summary: Y/n's cycle is like clock work and Lando maybe wants to make use of this knowledge.
Ovulating!reader x slightly equally feral!Lando
Themes/warnings: smut, breeding kink
Word count: 2k
Lando likes risk. He likes the idea of getting y/n pregnant and he knows the highest chance of that is during ovulation. What that really means for y/n he's not completely certain of but two things her knows for certain; 1) y/n wants him every second of every day in as many times as he can give her 2) she's far more likely to get pregnant during this time of the month than any other time.
Lando has been maybe a little more busy this month with F1 really picking up and him taking the lead of the championship. He's been working his ass off and honestly, he admittedly been neglecting y/n.
But there's a brief break between Brazil and Vegas and she is there with him at the Brazil track.
Post-race he hasn't had a chance to even see her. Y/n has a habit of just staying out the way to let Lando celebrate with the team even when he wants her to be there.
Eventually he spots her sitting outside the hospitality after he's changed and is finally getting ready to leave. It only takes watching her for a couple seconds for him to notice her fidgeting and shifting eyes focused on her phone as if she's avoiding looking at anyone. Now he knows he well enough to know her body language and behaviours mean something and this something is one thing that makes him pull out his own phone and check an app that he downloaded only because he discovered y/n had a tracking app and there was a partner's version that connected up.
"Oh my baby." He chuckles to himself after confirming his suspicion.
Y/n is sometimes no better than some of Lando's fans because him winning a race absolutely is a turn on for y/n and when she's at her most sensitive and vulnerable to being turned on...she's maybe a little more eager to reward him for a win.
"Hey, baby." Lando greets practically making her jump clearly too caught up in her own thoughts as he watches her immediately press her thighs together as she looks up at him before locking her phone. "Woah, what you watching that you shouldn't be?"
"Nothing. I was-nothing. Are we ready to go?" Y/n asks still looking uneasy while Lando smirks and nods.
Y/n is going to have to wait for him to satisfy her because they have a private jet flight with others and even with the length of the flight, he won't be risking someone catching them. The jet isn't a huge one on this occasion.
"I was just coming to get you so we could go." Lando states with a smile, managing to suppress the urge to smirk because it's there. He holds his hand out for her as he leans down to pick up her bag and carry it for her. "Come on, back to Monaco."
Y/n only trips trying to keep up with him as he leads them out of there, now feeling more motivation than just getting home. He's got a woman whose body has hit a window, that he fully intends to exploit, just in time for a bit of a break.
By the time they're on the jet y/n has settled a little but only because it's late and she's tired.
Y/n is laid with her leg tossed over Lando's hips and while her pussy is not exactly a cold body part usually, Lando is hyperaware of the heat radiating off of her pressed against him. She's innocently sleeping, her mind and body are probably at ease for the first time in hours.
Y/n once told Lando what it felt like during this week for her and it's essentially like being a pre-teen boy who just discovered the existence of women is actually something to be attracted to. Everything Lando does is a turn on, in fact he doesn't even have to do anything, it's like she looks at him and the sheer attraction she feels makes her have a need for him that completely devours her.
-
Lando kept his knowledge of y/n's physical struggle to himself but he's not the most surprised when y/n just about slams his body like an animal into the door once it's closed actually making him wince from the sheer speed of her actions.
"I need you." Y/n whines not even pulling back from his lips as she speaks, hands diving into Lando's jeans after she's undone the button and fly.
"Use me however you need to baby." Lando chuckles as y/n drops to her knees, pupils blown as she looks up at him.
Y/n takes his length down her throat, proving just how hungry she is for him as she sucks him like he's paying for it. Y/n really is never shy when it comes to sex in general, she'll initiate and make the first move if the mood suites her.
"God you were made for me." Lando moans hand gathering up her hair and moving with her, not guiding her or pushing her but just being there to feel her in as many ways as he can.
Not that he intends to stay like this for long, he loves head as much as anyone else but he has a goal. He has something else his mind has been stuck on for a while now but just in the back of his thoughts.
He stops her before he's even close to cumming because honestly as good as it feels, he has other needs that he's desperate to be met.
Y/n doesn't let them get as far as the bedroom with them instead landing on the sofa. Both of them stripping of their clothes in the short journey over.
"You know when you get like this, you put one thought into my head." Lando states while y/n licks over her lips a little. "All I want to see is how much I can fill you up before it sticks."
Lando's never actually shared his thoughts about getting y/n pregnant and how badly it turns him on, even just thinking about it.
Y/n's legs spread, more than just welcoming Lando as he pulls her closer by her thighs before he sighs at the feeling of her wetness just brushing his tip up and down her pussy.
"Maybe I'll just spend the week keeping you filled up." Lando hums thoughtfully dipping his tip into her and just that enclosed feeling of her pussy almost makes his eyes roll while y/n whimpers at his words. "You always feel so fucking perfect for me."
"Lando..." Y/n moans before she feels him sink in with a rush, but with how wet she is, it's hardly a struggle to take him in such speed.
Y/n continues to moan for Lando knowing that he loves to hear her be vocal and honestly, she's more sensitive than usual so they're hardly faked for his pleasure.
"Fuck." Lando groans torn between spilling into her so her can go again sooner or prolonging it for as long as he can to feel how incredible she feels.
Deciding on a middle ground between both, one of his hands releases his grip on her thigh to toy with her clit. Y/n's mind is completely focused on every touch, thrust and word Lando says so the feeling of his find on that bundle of nerves makes her pussy clamp on Lando mid-thrust and Lando definitely stutters in his movement from the new tightness.
"Jesus, you're gonna kill me." Lando grunts taking a brief pause while fully seated in her just to stop himself from cumming on the spot. "How badly do you want it?"
"Lando please." Y/n whines while Lando chuckles since he's pretty sure Lando and please are probably the only two words y/n can manage to get past her lips.
"Please what? You want to cum?" Lando taunts already more than aware y/n wants that orgasm, she wants the satisfaction and she wants to cum with him.
Y/n is pretty insatiable when it comes to this week and Lando knows to never leave her too long but he also needs a short recovery between sessions before he's ready to go for another round.
"Yes..please." Y/n pants already so close and so desperate for it. She's uncaring if the sex lasts less than 15 minutes, if she reaches her high in that time then she's happy.
"Ok, baby. Let's make you feel good and get you all filled up, yeah?" Lando chuckles before completely abusing her clit, pounding in and out of her as he chases both their highs.
Y/n moans hips thrashing as her orgasm takes only a minute to wash over her, making her back arch and shudder as it burns through her, her hand almost coming down to push his hand away when she starts to feel it's too much but Lando doesn't budge an y/n whimpers as he moans and finally spills into her feeling the prolonging of her orgasm milk it out of him.
"Fuck. You feel that baby. We're gonna keep filling you up and keeping you warm all week. Not gonna stop till it's over or it sticks." Lando states making y/n whine already wanting more from him. "Trust me baby, you'll be begging me to stop soon if you keep this up."
"Anyway you can be champion and just retire so we can do this all the time?" Y/n mumbles half-joking but half-serious in the moment. Even worse, Lando feels like he could consider it.
-
Lando wasn't joking when he made his promise to keep her filled up, there wasn't a time during the week off that y/n wasn't dripping with his cum, Lando even started to get annoyed at it leaking out sometimes. As if it was going to waste.
By day 4, y/n had long since tapped out but not bee able to find the genuine motivation to stop him from going at her like a feral animal.
"Alright, baby. I'll be back in a couple hours. There's some snacks on the side table, drink water, I've cleaned you up as best I could everywhere that you'd let me touch. I'll be back in a bit." Lando whispers while y/n whines feeling his fingers gently pushing the leaking cum back into her since that was one place he wasn't going to be cleaning up any time soon unless absolutely necessary. "Be good."
"I don't think I can move." Y/n mumbles earning a chuckle.
Her muscles ache to move and she's pretty much completely exhausted. In fact she's maybe never been this tired in her life. Her body has never felt surrendered to feeling like giving up the fight is the only way to survive this week. And yet, when Lando crawls between her legs, she wants it all. All reason and logic goes out the way in favour of hormones craving dick.
"Good, moving might disturb my little guys doing their work." Lando smirks before leaning over and kissing her softly, smirking a little at the hot feeling of her lips also swollen from the amount of attention he's been giving to them, kisses, bites, gently pulling and sucking them. They're almost bruised, almost. "Get some sleep."
"Ok." Y/n smiles lightly before she nuzzles down while Lando throws the blanket over her.
Y/n fully intends to make the most of the first real break she's had from the man's dick in days. She's beginning to think she may have more bark than bite but Lando doesn't and with his mission to get her pregnant in this week, not that they're even know for another few weeks, being unrelenting she might have to just endure it.
He gets practically delirious with the thought of her pregnant and now he can't get it out of his head, and honestly neither can she.
summary: gf loves lando hands and now suddenly everything’s foreplay.
warnings: domestic and slightly suggestive, nothing explicit.
It started small.
He was just fixing the coffee machine sleeves pushed up, wristwatch catching the morning light and she was leaning against the kitchen counter, doing nothing. Absolutely nothing, except sipping from her mug and staring.
Lando didn’t look up at first. Just pressed the buttons on the machine, adjusted the handle, reached for a spoon… then paused.
“You good, babe?” he asked, still focused on the coffee.
She blinked. “Huh?”
“You’ve been real quiet for someone who just made me repeat my coffee order three times.”
She took another sip. “I’m just… watching you.”
He turned then. Raised an eyebrow.
“Uh-huh,” he said, eyes dropping briefly to her flushed cheeks. “Watching me, or watching my hands?”
Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Are those not the same thing?”
He laughed, low and knowing, and went back to stirring the sugar into her cup. “Didn’t think you were the hand type.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think I was either.”
But she was. God help her, she was. And he was making it worse.
Big palms, long fingers, veins tracing up his forearms, always fidgeting with something rings, car keys, his phone. The way he drove, the way he cooked, the way he braced himself on either side of her when they kissed against the wall. Every single gesture had ruined her composure at least once.
And now he knew.
It happened again that night, while they were watching a movie.
Lando was sitting beside her on the couch, legs splayed comfortably, one arm slung lazily behind her shoulders. His other hand was working through a bowl of popcorn slow, casual, completely unfair.
She tried to focus on the film, she really did.
But her gaze kept dropping. His hand in the bowl. The way he grabbed a handful. The way his fingers flexed. The slight pressure when he wiped the salt off on his jeans after.
She didn't even realize she was staring until he shifted beside her and said, smug as hell:
“You're doing it again.”
She jerked back to the screen, mortified. “Doing what?”
“Staring,” he said, voice pitched just low enough to make her stomach flip. “You keep checking me out like you’re gonna start narrating a hand kink fic.”
She groaned and covered her face. “Lando—”
“No, go on,” he teased, laughing now. “Say it. You want me to reach for something. Open a jar. Fix the engine. What’ll do it for you today, love?”
She peeked at him through her fingers, cheeks burning.
“I hate you.”
“You love me,” he grinned, shifting closer. “And apparently, you love these.”
He held up one hand dramatically, wiggling his fingers.
She couldn’t help it. She laughed, pulling a cushion onto her lap like a shield.
“I hate that you caught me.”
“You looked like you were trying to remember them for later. I should charge rent for how long your eyes were down there.”
“Oh my God.”
He reached over and gently tugged the cushion out of her hands. Tossed it on the floor.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said, softer now.
She met his eyes all mischief and something hotter, deeper, underneath.
“You gonna do something about it?” she whispered.
He tilted his head. “Do you want me to?”
She bit her lip. And that was answer enough.
Later, they were in the kitchen again.
He was leaning back against the counter, watching her plate up leftovers. She was pretending to be chill, very focused on spooning rice like it was a sacred task. He hadn’t touched her, not since the teasing, but she could feel the tension stretching between them like heat in the air.
“Babe,” he said quietly.
She didn’t turn. “Yeah?”
He stepped up behind her. Not touching, not yet. Just letting his voice graze her ear.
“You know what else these hands are good at?”
She paused mid-spoon. “Oh no.”
He chuckled. “Come on. Guess.”
She turned, just slightly. “Driving. Fixing things. Making me lose all rational thought.”
“Mm,” he nodded. “That last one’s new, but I like it.”
Finally, he let his hands rest on her hips, gentle but firm. She leaned back into him, head tilted up toward his.
“I like when you get flustered,” he murmured.
“I like when you act smug about it.”
He slid one hand up her side slow, smooth, dragging his thumb over the fabric of her tank top. “You stared for like fifteen minutes this morning.”
“I was studying.”
“Studying, huh?”
“For… scientific purposes.”
Lando grinned against her cheek. “You want them on you?”
She let out the tiniest exhale. “Do you even have to ask?”
He turned her then hands firm on her waist, gentle but commanding. Back against the counter now, she looked up at him, heart pounding.
“You could’ve just said something,” he whispered. “I would’ve let you stare all day.”
Her voice was breathless now. “Wouldn’t have been as fun.”
He smiled and lifted one of her hands, pressing it to his palm, letting her feel the size difference, the grip.
“You’re in so much trouble,” he murmured.
“I know,” she breathed.
“Good.”
It didn’t go further, not yet. But they stood there for a long time, pressed close, whispering things that made their pulses race. His hands never left her. And hers? Well, let’s just say she made the most of the moment.
When they finally went to bed that night, he laced their fingers together under the covers and kissed the top of her head.
“Tomorrow,” he said sleepily, “I’m wearing gloves. Just to mess with you.”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered, smiling in the dark.
But even then, even with her eyes closed, she was thinking about them again.And he knew it.
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English is not my first language and I don't want it to be. Any mistakes are made out of pure hatred and disrespect for this language. The English have taken enough from this world, I will not let them have my tongue as well.
Summary: After five days apart, Lando greets her with silent, desperate worship — dropping to his knees the second she walks in. He eats her out against the wall, then carries her to bed and fucks her slowly, deeply, and emotionally, overwhelmed by how much he missed her.
Not when she drops her suitcase by the door. Not when she kicks her shoes off. Not when she shrugs her coat down and smiles at him like she doesn't realise what five days without her did to him.
He just walks toward her. Silent. Controlled. Like he's not completely unraveling inside.
She opens her mouth to speak, to say hi, to say she missed him, and Lando sinks to his knees.
Right there. In front of the door.
And lifts her skirt.
She gasps. "Lan-"
"Shh." His voice is low. Shaky. Not angry. Wrecked.
"I need it," he says. Then looks up. Eyes glassy. "I missed you so fucking much."
She blinks. His fingers slide up her thighs, warm, steady, pushing her knickers down in one smooth motion, his knuckles grazing her skin like an apology and an ache wrapped into one.
Then he leans forward. And licks her.
One long, slow stroke of his tongue over her folds, not rushed, not frantic. Just desperate.
She whimpers. And Lando moans.
"Fuck-been thinking about this all week-"
He presses his mouth to her again. Deeper. Messier. Arms locked around her thighs now, keeping her standing as he devours her like he'll die if he stops. She's already wet. Already trembling. Already gone.
"Lando-" she gasps. "Wait-"
But he shakes his head, mouth still buried in her cunt, eyes up, wild and warm and so fucking needy.
"No waiting." Another lick. Another moan.
His nose nudges her clit as he sucks her lips into his mouth, groaning like he's been starving and she's the only fucking thing on the planet.
She clutches his hair. Her knees wobble. And Lando holds her tighter.
"Let me," he breathes against her. "Let me make it better."
She's already crying. He hasn't even made her come yet. But her heart's in her throat. His tongue's on her clit. And his voice?
"Good girl," he whispers. "That's it. Let me have you. Just for a minute. Just like this."
She breaks. Comes with a sob, twitching in his grip, moaning his name like she missed him just as bad, grinding against his mouth as her orgasm crashes over her like fire and rain.
Lando doesn't stop. Just licks her through it, one hand sliding up her back to steady her, the other gripping her thigh as he groans, "Again. Come again. I've been dreaming about this."
And she does. A second time. Harder. Louder.
Collapsed against the wall, shaking in his hands, mouth open, completely gone.
And Lando? Still on his knees. Still mouthing at her clit. Still whispering:
"I love you."
"Missed you."
"You're mine."
She was still shaking. Still standing with her back pressed to the wall, her chest rising too fast, thighs wet and trembling and slick with spit and orgasm, her underwear tangled around one ankle.
And Lando? Lando was still on his knees. Mouth glistening. Hands slow. Eyes starving.
He kissed her thigh. Then her hip. Then stood, eyes locked on hers like he couldn't believe she was real. "You okay?" he whispered, breathless.
She nodded. Tried to speak. Failed.
Lando smiled, soft, wrecked. Then scooped her up. Just lifted her. Like nothing.
Her legs wrapped around his waist. Her arms went around his shoulders. Her forehead pressed to his temple. And he walked them to the bedroom without saying a word.
Because he didn't need to.
His hands on her thighs were shaking. His cock was hard against her stomach. And the moment he laid her down? He dragged her shirt off. Tossed it aside. Crawled over her like he was starving for contact.
And kissed her. Deep. Messy. Like five days had destroyed him. Like her mouth was home. Her fingers threaded through his curls, pulling him closer, her thighs parting automatically, knees bent, body ready to break again.
Lando kissed her throat. Her chest. Sucked one nipple into his mouth with a groan so filthy she nearly came again.
"I dreamed about this," he whispered, voice wrecked. "I missed you so bad it hurt."
"Lando-"
"Shh."
He pulled his sweats down, kicked them away, and then dragged her panties off slowly, tossing them somewhere without looking.
Then? He lined himself up. And slid in. So slow. So thick. So fucking deep.
She moaned.
Lando groaned into her neck.
"Fuck- yes-you feel like home-" His hips moved slow. Long strokes. Deep enough she couldn't breathe.
One arm curled under her back. The other gripped her thigh, pushed it up higher. His eyes were glassy. His voice cracked. "I love you."
She gasped.
"I missed you so much," he said. "Didn't know what to do with myself."
"Lando-please-"
"I'm here now," he whispered. "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."
Then he fucked her. Not hard. Not fast. But so fucking deep, so full, so slow and steady and present she was crying by the time he let her grind her hips back against his.
"I'm gonna come-" she whispered.
Lando kissed her jaw. "Good."
She broke. Came around him loudly, gripping his back, sobbing into his neck as he held her tight, still thrusting, still inside, still so fucking in love with her he couldn't stop shaking.
He came with a moan. Deep inside her. Whispered her name. Kissed her temple.
And just stayed there. Still inside. Still holding her. "I love you," he whispered again.
She smiled, ruined and glowing. "I love you more."
warnings: fem reader, pnv, unprotected sex, really romantic, softcore prn, husband/wife talk, pet names (baby, pretty girls, and more), light praise
👒: 2.5k words
the morning drifted in slow and syrupy, edges blurred like paint on wet paper. the bed cradled you, soft and heavy. lulling your body into stillness, your limbs slack, your eyelids unwilling to open.
the static light of the sun peeking into the room from between the blinds was dreamy. weight rested across your tummy as you rolled to lay on your back. eyes drifting lazily over the ceiling fan– still not really awake.
lando’s arm had found its home across your torso, hand tucked under your waist like it belonged there. he always held you like that, as if you might slip away if he let go– even in sleep.
his face is tucked sweetly into the side of your neck. his nose brushing the delicate skin, it might have ticked if you weren't so comfortable. your skin tingled, but there was nothing left to feel except the soft hum of satisfaction.
you watched him with all consuming love. his tanned skin against yours, the windswept curls hanging sleepily against his forehead. his hand clenched around your waist– featherlight but claiming.
his eyes blinked open, wonderfully slow. you watched as his consciousness started kicking in. watched as alertness eased into his facial expression. watched as his first decision of the day was to look over to you.
your eyes connected, filled with sleep and something much deeper. he smiled, seeing you were awake, leaning down to kiss you. lips connecting as you could still taste his smile.
“good morning pretty girl” he said against your neck as he rolled to lay atop you. resting his waist between your legs, your hands found his hair.
he hummed contently as your nails scratched light lines in his scalp. joints and limbs relaxing impossibly more, all but melting into you.
“love you” he said, coated in that morning voice that made you just a bit dizzy.
he turned his head up to rest his chin between your breasts. you looked down at him, adoration seeping from every one of his pores. in another life, you might have been worried about how you looked from this angle. but not now. not with him, not like this.
“love you more” your lips twitched, wanting to kiss him, but being too happy to move. “you look so hot like this” your hand moved to his face. lightly resting against the bow of his cheek. fingertips ghosting over the bridge of his nose, and the divot around his eyes.
he couldn't take it anymore. he muscled himself up to be mouth to mouth with you. kissing you with dreams still lingering on his tongue. mouthing slow, and honestly.
your hands dragged up his sides, really savoring every moment. the kiss held something quiet but burning. you felt it start in your heart and spread throughout you like the warmth of a fever.
wet lips dancing with one another, as if the stars had made them a pair generations ago. his body was tired, still magnetized to the bed. but with your lips on his, he felt like he could do anything.
reality blurred in and out. time and space contorting into something less linear. like your mind and thoughts had been completely taken over. taken by his mouth, and how it moved against yours.
he pulled away just long enough to look at you. faces only a foot apart, his eyes studied you. they flicked between different parts of your face, like in just that amount of time, he had forgotten how breathlessly beautiful you were.
every time he saw you felt like the first. especially in moments like these. moments of you that were entirely his own. moments that made him think about forever.
the way he looked at you, like you really mattered, like you were the only thing that had ever mattered at all.
“wan you to be my husband, need to wake up to you like this every mornin,” you whispered, splittering with desperation that pooled in the deepest part of your stomach.
his mouth was on you nearly before you could finish. kissing you with just a fraction of more pace. more friction.
“don't talk like that” he told you between kisses. never wanting to be separated by more than an inch.
he had managed to climb himself up your body. the lower part of his stomach resting just against your crotch. you hadn't noticed it before. your bodies were just close together, and there was no intention behind it.
now it was the only thing you could think about. your hips flinched before you could stop them. grinding, just a fraction, against him. embarrassment flooded over you like cold water.
followed quickly by mind numbing heat. lando’s hands had moved to your hips, gripping you tight as he adjusted you both.
pressing his bulge against your sex with the perfect amount of force. friction bumping your clit.
his hips found a slow and agonizing roll. eyes never unlocking from yours. boaring into you with such intensity you felt your head spin.
he dipped his head to kiss you again. slower, somehow softer. sleep still hung thick in the air as both of your bodies begged the other for support. lando held himself up by his arms, legs still flaccid against the mattress.
rutting against you, using it to keep himself up right. his lips slurred whilst you kissed. he didn't care how he kissed you, neither of you did. the only thing that mattered was that he was kissing you.
the length of his cock dragged against your clit, parting your folds as he pushed more into you. you were gasping into his mouth. hips stuttering and breath catching. opening your eyes to see him smirking down at you. pure joy plastered across his face as he had you like this.
exactly where he wanted you.
he dropped his head to your shoulder and continued teasing you through your shorts. you could feel his smile against you, but it all felt too good to care.
the fluidity of the light and colors of the room made you question if this was a dream or not. your blinks were still slow, tired. but every bit of brainpower you had was focused entirely on the outline of lando’s cock sliding between your sex.
“you gonna let me fuck you?” his voice was ragged, and muffled against you. “gonna let me take you right here, first thing?” he teased.
your head was nodding before you had really even comprehended what he was saying. looking up at him with big wet eyes. you looked almost… pitiful. some dangerous mix of love and desire grew beneath the hardness of lando’s cock.
he hooked a finger inside your shorts. the back of his knuckle gliding against your slick. wet and leaking through your underwear. your mouth shot open as you felt starved for his touch.
using his thumb to push your shorts and panties to the side, he slowly dipped his middle finger inside of you. teasing the edge with just the tip, and slowly letting you suck him in. your wet heat making it easy for him.
taking his finger so well, he was buried completely inside you and you were still insatiable for more. he pulled it out, as slow as the morning creeped along. diving back in and curling to hit a sweet spot.
a moan was pushed from you. his mouth hovered just against yours. letting you make noise, but being just close enough it was nearly kissing. he looked down at you through hooded eyes.
your legs separated, opening yourself for him more. your cunt relaxed as he pumped torturously slow in and out of you. you leaked, more lubricant than you needed now. tempting him, daring him to fuck you.
your brows crinkled and eyes fluttered languidly. the tip of his finger continuously curling into that one spot.
he pulled from you completely, and you looked like you might cry. devastated at the loss of him. you just looked so sweet, lan couldn't help but reconnect your lips. needing to taste how beautiful you looked.
he held you, weakly, but enough. you were mush and pliable to his hands now. willing and wanting to do anything he asked.
his hand raised to your mouth. separating your lips and lightly setting them against your bottom one. you took his soaked fingers in your mouth before you even realized what was happening.
expecting to find his lips, but finding the taste of your own pussy had you purring against him. you sucked his finger clean without hesitation. air escaped lando’s mouth like he had just seen something holy.
you let your eyes shut again. content with his fingers in your mouth and the weight he applied on top of you and against your crotch.
he moved to free himself. pulling his plaid pj pants down just enough to have himself springing out. his thumb held your clothes to the side of your slit, the rest of his hand gripping your thigh with strength that would hurt if you didn't need this.
he grunted as he laid his cock against you. glistening with arousal, he pushed it through your folds, the tip dipping in just barely. enough to give you a jolt of electricity.
“say what you said earlier” he lined himself up with your hole. you knew what he meant. Instantly.
“want you to be my husband” your eyes gleamed up at him. his hips moved faster than his head. sinking into you the second that word left your mouth.
every inch sunk inside of you with ease, aided by your begging wet walls. a moan left lando as his eyes rolled back so gently before he closed them. head falling back to your shoulder. letting you support him.
he stayed still, for you both to adjust. you adjusted to the stretch his cock gave you, pleasure tingling at the edges of the pain until it was all you could feel. he adjusted to the pressure and heat of your cunt. doing everything he could to not finish inside you right now.
but the way your cunt was throbbing around him. maybe you wanted him to.
when he convinced himself he was ready, he could take it, he pulled his hips away just a bit. snapping them back against you the second he felt cold air around his drenched cock. the shift of cold air to your heat was brain numbing.
his dick moved and twitched against the nerves deep inside you. sleep and pleasure mixing to have you nearly nonverbal. just moans and mewls escaping you as his tip pulled away again.
he pushed back in, slower now, staring at your heat from his lazy positioning.
“god, you feel so fucking good”
his mouth parted as you enveloped him again. a weak breath leaving him as your pussy opened even more for him. loosening to take him, to keep him in you as long as possible.
“that's it baby,” his hips found a steady rhythm. only pulling halfway out before he was diving back into you for more. the pattern was slow, stable. soft popping noises every time his hips collided back with yours.
your hands scratched at his neck where his hair ended. keeping him flush against you, relying on him as you supported half of his weight. he perked up enough to look at you. lips brushing against yours, as his pace never changed.
“again,” the look in his eyes held every other word he might have used to explain.
“my husband” your eyes lulled, focused only on him, a gentle gaze that held nothing but truth. “you're gonna be,” you leaned forward, kissing him. wet and still, speaking through shared saliva. “my husband.”
he grunted into your shoulder. head collapsing back down, as the noise was strangled and unstoppable. gritted teeth and a locked jaw couldn’t keep him quiet when he had you spread open like this, begging for forever.
he moved his other hand to wrap under your thigh. spreading them both to be as wide as comfortably possible. your shorts snapped back against him, attempting to close you off, but his cock had other plans.
he still fucked gently into you, your shorts and panties now dragging along the side of his shaft. a sharp hiss, too much friction. he swore against you. picking up pace to the one you liked.
angling himself to hit that spot, the one that sent you tumbling over the edge faster than you wanted. he split you wide, faster now, more desperate. you fisted his hair at the back of his neck.
he had to close his eyes, seeing you was too much. he didnt want to finish before you, but the way you looked right now was fucking exhilarating.
you clenched around him with muscles too deep for you to be controlling. he knew what that meant. he knew you better than you knew yourself.
“gonna make you my pretty little wife,” his voice was honey dipped and laced with sleep, yet rough at the edges with desire stronger than you could imagine.
pleasure exploded through you with force. starting from the outer lining of your cunt and pulsing through your body like a heartbeat. your arms and legs wrapped around him and squeezed. clenching every part of you, holding him like a vice.
you clung to him like you might lose yourself if you didn't. like he was the only thing keeping you together. your ears rang, eyes shut so tight it hurt. every part of you was wound up to its tightest setting, pleasure running its course.
until you felt warm spurts of lando’s love coat your insides. sending a part of himself so deep neither of you could reach it. touching nerves that had never been stimulated. he came on top of you with a fragile moan. broken yet entirely whole.
the tightly bound coil loosened as waves of bliss crashed over you. gentle euphoria took hold of your entire body, rocking you in and out of consciousness.
lando’s breath was the first thing that clawed you back to reality. his face was flushed, ears red and eyes blown like you were god herself. he dipped down to kiss you, his pace slowing to a still.
his tongue cradled yours delicately. curling and flicking to feel every part of your mouth.
he pulled away, smiling lazy, but drunk with love. the sleepy morning tugged on his eyelids, asking them to close.
he laid his head to your chest, listening to your heartbeat. so real, so you. it pulled him deeper, closer, to the spot in your heart that was made for him.
you smile down at him, his breath keeping you present in the moment. softly in and out, lungs filling and expanding. so alive, so him.
teammate!lando x reader where they had a bet and she loses…so he makes her crawl to her, hump the pillow, rub her bare clit against his clothed crotch ALL WHILE HE RECORDS HER (with consent ofc)
Lights, Camera, Action! | LN⁴
🔹️ summary ──── It was supposed to be a joke, then it became everything.
🔹️ pairing ──── Lando Norris x fem teammate!reader
🔹️ a/n ──── How tf do I set my intention to go for PURE SMUT NO PLOT, yet still manage to write over 6k 😀 I don’t even know what’s this, nothing makes sense and we are living on a floating rock.
Hear me out, I usually only link the song, but then I remembered about this music video and I almost had an aneurysm because of how well it fits. I recommend watching it after reading though. Anyway, ENJOY!!
THE LAST RACE before the break fucked them both. Pretty hard. What was supposed to end with another 1-2 finish for the team turned into a disaster of strategy, pace, and pure bad luck.
Since getting back to Monaco, the fallout hasn’t left them alone. It’s pretty hard when everyone is talking about it; it can get lonely, too. Luckily for them, they’ve been texting back and forth for days, laced with sarcasm, blame, and just enough flirtation to keep the tension at its peak. However, neither of them said what they really wanted to say. But it was always there, between the lines as usual, and in the way her name popped up on his screen, making his stomach flip.
Every single time.
The bar is loud enough to blur that tension and even Lando, with his no-alcohol rule, is loose and laughing. They dance and talk about anything but racing, and for a while it feels like neither of them are carrying the weight of disappointment.
Friends come and go through their circle, a few fans spot them and ask for pictures — which they take, grinning too wide and standing too close for their own good. Somewhere between the fourth round of mocktails, a familiar song starts pulsing through the speakers, and that’s when she brings up the bet, half-laughing, stepping in front of him like she did back in the garage when she dared him.
“If I finish behind you, I owe you a private dance,” she said, confidence dripping from every word. She’d qualified ahead of Lando, and was so confident she can finish ahead of him, too. But since every race is unpredictable and full of unknowns, she ended up taking the checkered flag after him.
It was a joke, anyway. But she can’t say with all her heart that she hasn’t thought about it at least a few couple of times. Besides, it’s Lando who’s been constantly reminding her throughout the past few days and, even if it was in jest, the curiosity made her spend hours staring at the ceiling of her room, imagining different scenarios.
Now, it’s late when the door to his apartment clicks shut behind them with a clean, satisfying noise. Lando tosses his keys into the ceramic bowl on the console with more force than necessary, and while the keys clatter, one nearly skids off the edge, forcing him to reach for it instinctively. She doesn’t say anything, although she can’t help but finding amusing that the inanimate objects always decide to act up only when her teammate’s patience seems so fragile.
The sudden movement makes Lando whine in exasperation as she watches him kick off his shoes and drag a hand through his curls.
The place is quiet, as if reflecting their inner agitation, silently burning within. He’s not bothering turning on more than a lamp, but it’s enough to bathe the whole living room in a pale silver glow, making everything seem even more intimate than it should be.
As they step further into the apartment, the same silence hits them both, because it’s not just the sudden absence of noise, but the weight of it. They’ve never been this quiet around each other before. Usually, they’re the chaos in the garage, either laughing too loud or teasing mid-debriefs, always bringing the kind of energy that makes their engineers roll their eyes but secretly love it. Now though, it’s the first time neither of them knows what to say. Or how to act.
“Cute place,” she says, partly to break the silence, but mostly because it really is. Spacious, stylish, not super tidy, but very Lando in that sense.
“You know you don’t have to make small talk, right?” he laughs. “It was a stupid bet to begin with, since I was always going to finish ahead of you anyway.”
Her jaw drops slightly at the cockiness in his tone. This is the Lando she knows and, in other circumstances, she would find his confidence hot, but right now it only makes her want to knock that look off his face. Or sit on it just to shut him up. Either works.
“Always eager to finish first? Got it,” the playful jab lands right where she intended without too much effort; it’s a split-second flicker in his expression, the twitch of his jaw, and the way his arms tense.
That’s the spot, she thinks. That’s where it bruises his ego, not because it’s crude, but because it’s enough to sting. Which only makes her want to push harder.
Lando’s grin flattens a bit. “Well, someone’s gotta lead the way,” he replies casually, even though he caught her double meaning phrase.
“Right. Leading the way because you can’t pace yourself,” she fires back.
He chuckles. “Sounds like an excuse from someone who couldn’t keep up.”
They’re toe-to-toe now, all bite and smirk and so much tension. She’s half a second from throwing a cushion at him just to knock that pretty smile off when she glances past his shoulder and, without another word, she steps forward, fingers brushing lightly against Lando’s arm as she urges him to move out of her way, wandering farther into his apartment like she owns the place.
“Interesting,” she mumbles. “I saw you with the camera before,” the girl continues as Lando turns to follow her silhouette. “How about you film me while I dance? Give you some new material for land0.mov?”
Lando’s expression twitches barely, but she’s still able to notice it. That small flash of disbelief, quickly masked by a half-laugh, like he’s not sure if she’s joking or just testing him.
“No way, mate,” says Lando, but it’s already too late.
She nods slowly, letting the weight of her intention settle in the air they share. His boyish smirk fades into curiosity in an instant. It’s like watching him put a helmet on: composed, dialed in, serious in a way most people rarely get to see.
To give him more space to process, she veers toward the low shelf by his TV, crouching slightly. “Let’s see. Which one’s your favorite?” she asks nonchalantly, running her fingers along the row of cameras lined up like little trophies; old film bodies, modern DSLRs, and a few point-and-shoots with scratched lenses.
Lando stares at her like she suddenly grew two more heads in the meantime. “You play too much, you know that?”
“Yeah,” she shrugs, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Which one?” she repeats.
He blinks, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. After he rubs the bridge of his nose, Lando exhales slowly. “The, uh… the Leica. Second from the left. Black one,” he instructs. “I rarely use it, which makes it special, I guess.”
She lifts it delicately, turning it over in her hands. It’s heavier than she expected, sleek and cool against her skin. “Nice,” she grins. “Bet it makes everything look expensive.”
Lando hums in agreement, “Only shoots what’s directly in front of it. Look,” he says, getting so close to her that he’s now towering over her frame, while pointing at the camera. “Fixed lens, see? No lazy zooming, but the resolution is insane. The tricky part is that you have to move it yourself to get the shot you want,” he continues.
She looks up at him, noticing a slight shy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. And, just when she thought Lando couldn’t get any nerdier, she hears his voice again.
“It’s a twenty-eight millimeter lens. That’s not crazy wide,” he informs her. “If you stay in the middle, the background’s gonna fall off all soft and blurry. Makes it feel…” he trails off, clearing his throat. “Personal. It’s not even about perfect framing or whatever,” he rushes to add. “It just catches whatever’s there, no hiding.”
“Did you use it before?” she asks, curiosity pulling the words out of her mouth without having the time to think them through.
“I did,” he replies with a grin, giving her enough time to come up with her own scenarios before adding, “On my cars.”
She smiles, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room. “So. If I move, you have to follow, hm?”
Lando nods.
She sets the camera down gently, then leans against the wall beside the shelf with her arms crossed. She’s aware that what she’s suggesting it’s pure insanity, especially after what’s been happening between them lately.
“Okay,” she finally says, holding her hand toward him, palm open. “Can I see your phone for a sec?”
Lando frowns, trying to hide a curious smile. “Why?” he asks, sliding the phone from his pocket and unlocks it, handing it over with suspicion in his voice.
She only flashes him a smile back, thumbing through his apps until she finds the little Spotify icon. A few seconds later, the speakers come alive with a sultry bassline that wraps the room in a charged ambiance.
The teasing in her voice is easy to catch next time she asks, “You seriously have a sex playlist called sex playlist? Men are so predictable.”
He chuckles, “Yeah? What’s yours called?”
“I’ll send you the link,” she winks at him jokingly, but that still has an unexpected effect on Lando. Maybe because he’s starting to understand that his teammate is hardly ever joking, actually.
For a second that feels like a week, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches her, every muscle in his body taut like he’s holding himself back from something that’s about to come out anyway. It has to. Because everything has a limit, and theirs was crossed from the moment she entered his apartment.
With a quiet exhale, she presses herself lightly against the wall, then pushes off and crosses the living room in steady, cat-like steps, taking his hand in hers, fingers threading through his. Her touch is warm and somehow reassuring, her palm so small and silky against his. She guides Lando toward the couch with intent as if this isn’t his own home, nudging him gently until he sits.
She breaks away then, walks back across the room, and returns with the Leica in hand. “Turn it on,” she says simply, with enough clarity behind her words.
Lando stares at her, dumbfounded for a beat, before the corner of his mouth twitches upward in disbelief. “You’re insane.”
“I trust you to capture the best in me,” she admits.
He lets out a heavy breath, something between a laugh and a groan, and flips the switch at her insistence. The familiar click of the camera waking up is giving Lando chills, but when he glances up again, his hands still adjusting the ISO, she’s already pulling the shirt over her head, revealing a black bra and her toned shoulders dusted in the dim light.
She tilts her head. “Just make sure I look good, Lando.”
With that, she starts moving as slow as possible, every inch of revealed skin feeling like it’s offered, not given.
Lando’s hands are steady on the camera, but for some reason, breathing doesn’t feel automatic anymore, and he’s currently aware of every shaky breath he takes. His fingers work on instinct, dialing the aperture wider, letting in the glow of the cool lighting. His pulse is racing, heavy in his throat, because he can see everything through the lens, but is still not ready to look at her in the flesh.
For her, it’s easy to notice how focused he is, so she glances straight into the camera on purpose, with a spark of mischief in her gaze, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. To him. As a result, Lando’s knee starts bouncing, restless, his breathing too shallow to be subtle. He can’t remember the last time he felt so tightly wound, but it doesn’t even matter because what happens now will stay with him for a long time, and this is all he needs to remember from now on.
And then, it gets worse.
He stares at her while she’s arching slightly as she undoes her bra clasp, letting it slide off her shoulders and onto the floor without breaking eye contact with the camera. At that, Lando looks away out of instinct — out of that last shred of decency clawing at him. But the camera stays trained on her, and when he lifts his gaze again, it’s like a dam breaks inside him. Violently. The hunger that flashes across his face is instant, and impossible to hide. He doesn’t even try, because what fool could ever take his eyes off her?
Lando adjusts himself without thinking, moving in sync with her teasing gestures as she peels her panties down her legs from under her skirt. He tells himself to stay focused and capture the sensuality of her body with the last fragment of professionalism that he possesses. But that’s a losing game when his own body is burning with need, and every subtle curve and line of her turns into a map that he’s desperate to explore as soon as possible.
His focus lingers on the swell of her breasts, her nipples tightening in the open air. It forces him to swallow hard, a deep ache growing both inside him and his pants, knowing how badly he wants to lean forward and suck them into his mouth, to feel the heat of her skin against his tongue.
The camera dips lower as she dances to the hypnotic rhythm of his music, and Lando keeps working with her, baring the elegant slope of her waist and the strong lines of her thighs. The way she stands there, so natural and confident, feels like a direct hit to his chest that he welcomes without hesitation or any intention of dodging. She’s pure femininity, and that throws him into a black hole made only of her, where the gravity is so strong that there’s no escape.
He’s so focused on her that he almost stops breathing in order to make sure he gets the perfect shot, every shot. That makes Lando’s hand tighten around the camera, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. But his body has a mind on its own, apparently, and his thighs flex like he’s one wrong move away from standing. From closing the distance between them. Against his will, though, he sits there, shivering with the effort to stay still.
“Come on, Norris,” she says, and her voice wakes him up from the trance her shapes put him in. “I’ve seen you take tighter corners at Spa with less hesitation.”
Even though he tries to, he can’t stop the throaty laugh that comes out of him. Only for a moment, Lando lowers the camera again, and lets himself, finally, finally, see her. And this time, he doesn’t look away. He watches her shamelessly, while reaching behind him to take a cushion that he ends up tossing onto the floor near his feet, nodding toward it.
“Go on, then. Show me how desperate you are.”
There is something about the way he says it that sends a thrill straight through her. She heard that Lando is direct when it comes to his wants and needs, but to feel it on her skin hits different. Her pulse suddenly stutters with excitement as she lowers herself in front of him, straddling the cushion, her body already anticipating the liberating feeling.
The moment her hips roll forward and her mouth falls open in surprise at the faint pleasure, Lando is right there, capturing every gasp, every twitch, and every sweet reaction like it’s the only thing that matters. His mind runs wild with all the places he aches to touch — his hand curled around her throat, palms squeezing her breasts, fingers digging into her hips to hold her still while he teases her until she begs.
The temptation claws at him, full throttle. But he forces himself to handle the camera like a pro, because more than anything, he wants her to see what he sees: how devastatingly beautiful she is like this, undone and bold. Through his own lens, she’s a vision, and giving her that full picture keeps him going.
From her perspective, noticing Lando’s determination sends a fresh wave of heat throughout her body, making her rock her hips a little harder, and that puts a tension in his shoulders. A type of need he didn’t feel before.
To stop herself from making more embarrassing sounds, she meets his gaze over the camera, mouth slightly open. “Is this good?” she asks, voice breathy and half-mocking, although there’s something real underneath. A dare. A plea.
Lando looks at her again, revealing a flushed face and his blown wide pupils. “Yeah, don’t stop,” he replies hoarsely.
Her thighs squeeze around the cushion from the moment she hears the first note in voice, the soft fabric teasing against her clit with every slow roll of her hips, pulling breathy sounds from her. Behind the camera, Lando tails closely as she grinds back and forth, his jaw clenching at the small sounds slipping past her lips.
“Shit, that’s hot. Are you always this needy?” he asks out of pure curiosity, but the question is mostly rhetorical; of course she is. Judging by the way her chest heaves and how she leans forward slightly to catch as much friction as possible, the answer is obvious.
She wants to push back against the power shift, but she’s too lost in the rhythmic movement of her body. And it’s not as if Lando’s wrong. Every gentle brush gets increasingly out of control, each desperate grind into the cushion sending small waves of pleasure straight to her nerves, making her fingers curl into the couch for balance. For the control she’s rapidly losing.
Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, mouth constantly parting as the pleasure spirals inside her like a coil wound too tight.
Lando’s fingers flex over the shutter release, but he’s barely present anymore. He’s completely absorbed by what is happening on the other side of his lens, and it’s her moan that pulls him out of it, just as the pressure builds. So he reaches out, his hand entering the frame like an unexpected guest. With ease, his fingers grab the edge of the cushion beneath her, and she pauses, blinking up at him, flushed and dazed, breathing heavily like she just stepped out of the car after a last-lap push. With one strong pull, he slides it out from under her, making her gasp in surprise, her body jolting at the sudden loss.
“Lando,” she exhales irritated.
She gets her hands onto his knees to steady herself, thighs still wobbly, but he’s not looking at her anymore. He’s too busy staring at the soaked fabric instead, darkened with heat and want and everything she didn’t say out loud.
“That good?” he asks, but the arrogance in his voice diminished, giving way to his sincere curiosity.
She shakes her head, looking up at him again. “Not faking it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The fact that she is as sincere in her statement, encourages Lando to take things to the next level, just to see how much he can push before it’s too much. He throws the cushion aside with a thud, his eyes lit up with need.
“Come here,” he orders in a gentle tone, patting his lap.
She’s stunned at his words initially, and the way they leave no room for teasing. But then she catches the way his tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, leaving it wet and shining, and something inside her pushes her to get up. She realizes that there’s nothing she wouldn’t do if he asked.
With calculated steps, she climbs him patiently, her thighs spreading over him. They’ve been in each other’s personal space in the past, when they had to do silly challenges for McLaren to entertain the fans. Still, even though there’s a camera between them just like before, the air feels different, charged with desire, unknown, and heavy lust. Because this time, it’s just them.
When her body sinks onto his, the scabrous fabric of his jeans meets the soaked warmth between her legs, the weight making Lando groan silently, his little sound hitting her low in her stomach. His reaction encourages her to continue, shifting on top of him in order to find the best position, enough to grind against his bulge. It’s thick and hard beneath her, and the simple contact is already maddening. Yet not nearly enough, and the realization that he’s just as affected by this makes the coil in her stomach tighten further.
“Keep going,” he speaks again as he lifts her skirt up to her waist, going back to the camera and angling it to capture the way she moves against him, right where her skin meets the fabric of his pants.
Her palm comes around his bicep for suport, letting the instincts guide her further. The pressure she chased a moment ago is still there, but it’s different this time around. More intense.
Lando grunts, his free hand gripping her hip to show her the pattern to follow. She whimpers while that sweet ache comes back, her body trembling with need. In no time, she can move on her own, and because she’s such a fast learner, Lando points the camera closer, eager to capture the wetness soaking through.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he says. “You’re making such a mess,” he exhales, bringing his hand between her legs to feel it before he could even process his own action. His thumb finds her clit, rubbing it gently, keeping his eyes on her face the whole time, craving to catch every reaction.
She moans, one hand squeezing his arm harder as her body rocks forward, chasing the release that she hopes it’s not that far into the future, especially if his hips continue to twitch beneath her the way they do, so impatient and reliant on her.
Unfortunately, the time almost stops the moment their faces get close enough to kiss. She can feel the heat of his breath and the pull between them, and she’s sure he can feel it too. Her eyes flick to his mouth, and Lando’s eyes stay on her, but no one dares to close the small gap. Because somehow, that would be more intimate than all of this. Kissing would mean acknowledging what’s been burning between them for a while now. It would mean admitting this is real, and admitting will complicate everything in both their personal and professional lives.
And neither of them are ready to take that chance yet.
With that in mind, she doesn’t lean in. She just closes her eyes and grinds harder, her hips rolling against his hand and the hard line of his cock beneath her. The sensation amplifies fast, and Lando never stops working her with his thumb. Soon enough, her breath comes out in spasms and her thighs start to shake. Her pace intensifies, chasing the high that’s been teasing at the edges of her patience, feeling the mess she’s made slick against Lando’s pants with every desperate press on it. Still, his hand stays steady, rubbing perfectly against her clit, matching the rhythm of her hips like he knows exactly all the ways she wants — and craves — to be touched.
With Lando’s help, it doesn’t take long until her body finally seizes, hips jerking forward uncontrollably as pleasure crashes over her. He moves with her, a silent apology for stopping her earlier written into every precise touch, making sure this time she falls apart completely. Because of him.
Luckily, the camera captures everything: his hand on her, the wet spot she’s left on his pants, the way her skin flushes and seems to crave more with each passing second, and the way her thighs shake when the aftershocks hit. It catches the way she starts trembling, too, body overwhelmed, aching for something deeper, something only he can give her right now.
Only he gives her time to ride it out instead, feeling all the ways her walls flutter, hungry and empty, and the sound that tears from his throat is nothing but a helpless moan. The sensation alone, even without him inside her, is enough to make his head spin. It wrecks him completely, makes him ache with the violent need to know how it would feel to be buried deep inside her, to have her tight, needy pussy squeezing around him while she comes undone all over again. Because of him.
The girl barely registers the camera being placed in her hands until Lando nudges her chin. “Here. See for yourself.”
Except, she doesn’t want it. Not yet. By her own choice, she takes it gently from his hand, presses RECORD again and turns it around, placing it on the padded arm of the couch. Facing them. Remembering Lando’s voice earlier, casual and offhand when he said that the camera only captures what’s in front of it.
Her fingers move impatiently, drifting to the hem of his shirt, bunching it in her hands. “Since you let me finish first,” she rushes to explain.
With that, she pulls the shirt up, and he lifts his arms to help her, muscles tightening under skin slick with the faintest sheen of sweat. Once it’s off, she tosses it to the side, her eyes drinking him in. Lando is warm under her palms, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, and she senses the same tension in him that’s barely holding him together.
She studies his face while her hand drifts lower, trailing down the center of his stomach, pausing at the waistband of his jeans. Carefully, she slips her hand inside, where she finds him hot and so painfully hard that it makes her mouth water. Without any instructions, her fingers curl around his soft skin, and the sight alone makes his stomach flip. She starts to stroke him teasing, but before she can go quicker, Lando grabs her wrist, groaning low in his throat.
“Just a sec,” he pants, voice cracking slightly. His hands are already moving, guiding her hips back over his lap with a need that borders on desperation.
This time, there’s no fabric between them, and her soaked heat presses directly against his length, making them both shuddering at the contact; skin on skin and no more barriers, just the unfiltered reality of what they both want. His hands find home on her hips, big and heavy, his control hanging by a thread.
Agonizingly slow, her clit slides along his hardness, slick and warm, sending sharp jolts of pleasure from one body to another. He can barely contain himself at the way she finds it so easy to rock against him, faster when she feels how thirsty Lando gets in a matter of seconds. He’s leaking already, the head of his cock glistening, smearing against her folds as she moves.
Completely flushed and utterly drunk with pleasure, he shifts beneath her, his arms wrapping tight around her waist, pulling her closer, even though there’s no physical space left between them. But it’s useless. No matter how close they are, there is only one way that would truly satisfy his urge.
“Please,” he whispers next to the shell of her ear, desperate and breathless. “Can I slide in?”
She’s a lost cause by now, and her reply is reduced to a broken hum, while she sits up just enough to guide the thick head of his cock to her entrance. Lando’s patience snaps at her quick response, and he thrusts his hips up in one motion, his hands holding her hips and pulling her down onto him at the same time. The stretch is overwhelming and takes her by surprise, knocking the wind out of her and making her vision blur at the edges as she tries to take all of him.
They moan together, helpless, her hands landing on his chest as she laughs shakily. “You trying to break me in half or?”
“Didn’t think you’d be so tight,” he groans in a strained voice.
Lando tries his best to take it slow, but the way she welcomes him, so warm and perfect, nearly undoes him the moment he’s all in. A shudder runs down his spine as he grips her hips with more force, thinking maybe if he doesn’t hold her right, the world will actually end.
And it may, based on how her hands are sliding up, clawing at his shoulders with her nails digging in to anchor herself. Her breath shudders out in short bursts as she does, her body struggling to adjust, to take everything he has to offer. All of him.
To test the waters, she starts circling her hips, hoping she’ll find the angle that makes her breath hitch, and when she does, it’s like lightning strikes between them. He’s impossibly deep, touching places inside her she didn’t even know could feel this good. Her pussy hugs him so tightly that Lando has to grit his teeth to shut himself up. Then she tilts her hips forward just slightly with every grind, rocking her clit perfectly against his pelvis while he’s buried inside her.
The effect she was looking for is instant, and she hears Lando choking on another moan, finally, “Fuck, yeah. Right there,” his fingers dig into her skin, hunger battling in his wide eyes. “Do that again, it feels so fucking good.”
“Shit, Lando,” she breaths out. “So deep, I can feel you everywhere.”
She pulls him in again and again, until he is practically whining beneath her. Seeing Lando so lost inside her makes her losing the rhythm, her breathing turning ragged, thighs ready to give up as exhaustion and pleasure blur into one. It’s messy and greedy on both sides, and when she finally collapses against his chest, she sobs out a cry, her voice cracking with it.
“Need you,” she exhales. “I can’t hold it anymore.”
Lando doesn’t waste a breath. One sharp, hungry movement and he’s planting his feet against the floor for leverage, thrusting up into her with everything he’s got. She gasps at the same time he groans deep in his chest, the sound vibrating between them as he finally takes her the way they’ve both needed.
Her mouth goes dry.
His jaw tightens.
Their breath grows heavier, shared in the tight, sweaty space. Her body tenses, then squeezes around him with such perfect pressure it leaves him breathless. A high-pitched moan spills from her, unexpected and honest, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, biting at it in order to shut herself up.
Gently, Lando catches her wrist, holding it firm. “If you’re gonna bite something,” he tilts his head, offering his shoulder, “Be a good girl and bite me instead.”
Her breathing is too fast and her mind runs at the speed of an F1 car. She can’t think straight and, for a moment, she just stays there, her forehead brushing the curve of his shoulder as she tries to catch herself from falling in too deep. Then slowly, like she’s giving in to something bigger than her, she places a kiss on his skin. Her lips press gently on it, trailing along the line of his neck to the dip of his collarbone. It’s the closest thing she’ll ever give him. The closest thing to letting herself feel for him.
He’s still warm, salty with sweat, and soft under her lips. And he smells so good, like skin and heat and something clean that clings to her nose and settles in her chest like smoke.
It drugs her.
The way his scent mixes with the feel of his breath against her temple, the way his pulse flutters beneath her lips — she has to stop. It’s too much, too close, too real.
“Think we should bet every race weekend, what do you say?” asks Lando, his pace quickening, hands guiding her up and down his cock like it’s the only thing that keeps him sane. “Would die to have you like this all the time, hm?”
“Mhm,” she grinds down until his name is all she can say. “Fuck. I’m so close.”
“Yeah, baby. I feel you.”
Her voice breaks off into a moan right when she’s about to speak again, to tell him not to go there and call her that. But Lando rolls his hips, pushing deeper, filling her inch by inch until there’s no space left, which shuts her up in an instant. They fuck in a rhythm that shouldn’t work, all sweat-slicked skin and shaky breaths. The air fills up with obscene sounds of them, their bodies colliding with enough force to make her whimper and moan his name all over again, each time he thrusts.
To help himself, he spreads her wider, holding her open for him, watching the way he disappears inside her, utterly wrecked by the sight. “Taking me so fucking well,” he says between thrusts, dragging his mouth over her jaw. “Look.”
She whines while looking down at where they’re joined. Lando moves his gaze on her expression with a grin on his face, so proud when he feels every spasm in her body; it’s a total mess. Her slick is all over him, coating his cock, his thighs, soaking through the waistband of his jeans that are still shoved only halfway down his hips. Each time they meet, there’s a wet sound echoing between them, sticky and warm, ricocheting against the walls in Lando’s living room like a drumbeat pulling them closer to the edge.
“You like how wrecked you’ve got me?”
She nods frantically, squeezing him so tight it makes Lando see stars. At that, he reaches up, brushing the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears with his long fingers. His hand stays there a moment, continuing to slide lower, fingertips skimming her jaw, then wrapping gently around her throat, enough to feel her pulse. To hold her in place.
In a matter of seconds, their eyes lock again. Her chest heaves and her eyes shine, but not just from pleasure. It’s because she wants to tell him that this isn’t what she expected. It’s much, much more, and it will leave a deep mark, no matter which path they’ll choose to take tomorrow morning.
His hands move hungrily, down from her neck to her chest, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. He holds them carefully, wanting to memorize the shape, the weight, and the way they fill his palms, to make sure he won’t forget a single detail about her body.
“Lan,” she warns.
Lando hums, “Mhm. Right there with you, beautiful,” he assures her.
Her breathing is jagged, the rhythm of their hips desperate, chasing the edge that’s been teasing them since the moment she sank down onto him. Every motion drives him deeper, sends wave after wave crashing through her, because she’s right there for quite a while now.
“Hi there,” Lando’s voice brings her back. His hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, gently pulling her to see her face. “Look at me, I want to see you. Let me see you.”
Her body tenses, and just for a split second the frantic rhythm stutters, then finds its pace again as the orgasm rips through her with a blinding force. She keeps her eyes on his the whole time, riding it out with her hands burried in the curls at the back of his head. His hips jerk beneath her as he throbs inside her, overwhelmed by the way she fights to keep him in. It drives him crazy, and he moans loudly, trying to pull out, but her thighs close tighter around him.
“Inside,” she rushes to say, unable to form sentences longer than one word.
Lando’s jaw clenches so hard he feels like his teeth might snap from the force, every muscle in his body pulled tight and shivering. He holds on by a thread for half a second longer, but then her body flutters around him again, and with a loud, guttural gasp, he lets go, spilling inside her in thick pulses that only make her hold him tighter. His hands shake where they clutch at her hips, trying to pull her down even harder, like he can’t bear even a sliver of distance between them right in this moment.
None of them knows how much time passes like that, but neither of them moves again. She’s stays slumped against his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck, while his arms stay locked around her waist, as if letting go might break whatever just happened between them.
Lando presses his cheek on the top of her head, his heart hammering so hard he’s sure she can feel it. But it’s fine, because he can feel hers, too.
His hands drift up and down her back in aimless strokes and, while she starts to come back to herself, she notices the music still playing softly around them, the same sultry beat from earlier floating through the air.
Her brows pinch together in confusion before realization hits. “How the fuck did you time your playlist so perfectly?”
Lando lets out a breathless laugh, “Talent.”
She snorts, dropping her head back onto his shoulder with a groan. “Goodness gracious, it is so hard tolerate you.”
“Liar,” he says, “You wanna kiss me so bad.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes, but the way her cheeks heat up gives her away immediately. Lando laughs under his breath again, cocky and so annoyingly right. She opens her mouth to fire back, to tell him that no, she definitely doesn’t want to kiss his smug ass, but then her eyes catch the little red light blinking from across the couch.
The camera. Still recording.
She nudges him softly, grinning against the flush in her cheeks, and points at it. “Smile and wave, Norris,” she whispers, and Lando immediately flashes the most ridiculous smirk at the lens, making her laugh for real this time.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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@ln4lova prompt request #21 - *Holding hand out* "Spit."
Summary: Smut with a plot
Word count: 1.1k
Y/n has shamelessly labelled Lando the best she's ever had and she has even shared some post-sex selfies, obviously keeping it PG but she never hides the fact they have a great sex life and Lando never hides how he struggles to keep his hands off of her.
They struggle a lot being away from each other. So y/n only misses maybe two races a year and even then they are feral when they reunite.
Safe to say sex is a pillar of their relationship and they both view it as significantly important.
"Spit." Lando commands with his hand held out as y/n sits kneeling on their bed, having just woken up from him returning home after a weekend away. "Hey, don't make me ask twice."
Y/n spits quite a glob onto his fingers making him raise his eyebrow in question of his silent attitude since he knows she's not impressed by his attitude either.
"Lie back." Lando instructs making her shift and drop back knowing that she isn't impressed by his entrance of waking her up and demanding sex from her but she isn't opposed to it.
She feels him spread her own spit across her pussy, sliding his fingers into her moving them in an out of her while y/n groans from the feeling.
"Lando." Y/n hums in pleasure feeling herself growing wet from the feeling of his spit covered fingers thrusting in and out of her giving her some warm up before he dives in. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, baby." Lando smiles as he slowly gets down, pressing his lips to her inner thigh, teeth nipping her skin which leaves her whining press her thighs closer together instinctually only for his free hand to push her thigh away again.
It's not long before Lando's mouth has joined to accompany his fingers, his tongue working her clit that makes moans finally fall from her lips, squirming to move with his actions and get the most pleasure from him.
No surprise she feels the build up towards her climax quickly with the addition of pressure on her clit and the sloppy wetness of his mouth just driving her wild.
She feels the heat of her orgasm shoot through her stomach as she squeezes his head and almost locks him into place between her thighs, not allowing him to move away even if he tried to.
Eventually she's rid out her high and Lando has decided he's waited long enough for his turn. So her legs are pried apart from his head and he's flipping her over as he kneels up on the bed.
"I need to feel you, baby." Lando grunts while y/n presses her chest down, arching her back while Lando pulls off his clothes before climbing back on the bed, hands caressing her cheeks before sliding up to her waist before his hand moves to his dick, directing himself into her and moaning out from the feeling of being inside her.
Lando gets lost in the feeling of his girlfriend, having been forced to go a whole weekend without her pussy is like a form of torture for him which is why he unapologetically woke her up as soon as he got home because he needed to have sex with her. It wasn't just a want but this man is practically addicted to his girlfriend and sex is the best way to get that hit of dopamine that he gains from her.
"Lando." Y/n moans while Lando almost feels like he's in another dimension of pleasure.
"Fuck, you feel amazing." Lando moans, his voice almost wobbling with how good he feels.
The sound of skin on skin and them both moaning from the feel of each other. Each of them are caught up in each other feeling like they could both go on for hours.
Y/n has another orgasm build up in her that she rides out gripping the sheets like a lifeline but Lando doesn't miss a beat, also riding out her high but being nowhere near his own finish.
And so it goes for another 3 orgasms before they start to wear down on her, she is definitely feeling the drain of it. Thankfully Lando notices the struggle to build up to her 6th orgasm and decides to help her along while finally chasing his own that he has maybe fought off through her last couple orgasms just to prolong the sex.
"Lando." Y/n moans as Lando pulls out and pushes her onto her back, folding her legs back and basically just slamming into her not even sure he's bothered about her having another orgasm.
His gaze casts down on her body that is just glistening with the sweat built up but it's just making her sparkle and the expression of tired pleasure finally sends him over the edge. He presses as deep as he can into her and completely fills her like he has one mission and it's to leave a piece of himself in her permanently.
Though with the way he's been at her, she's going to feel like he's still there for days. Not that he'll be leaving it 24 hours before they're having sex again anyway.
"How are you feeling?" Lando asks, still planted deeply inside her but having allowed her legs down to rest either side of his body while she breathes heavily under him.
"Like you just decided to make up for the few days we didn't see each other." Y/n mumbles before yawning. "I don't even care if we stay here exactly in this position, I'm going back to sleep."
"We can absolutely stay like this...but I'm not staying on stop like this." Lando states before he smiles brightly at her and rocks them then rolling her on top. "Comfortable?"
"Feel hot and stick inside and out...but honestly yes. I've sort of missed the feeling." Y/n laughs weakly before hiding her face in his neck and managing to pass out within a matter of seconds. Which is no surprise give the treatment she's just been on the receiving end of.
"Goodnight to you too." Lando mumbles knowing that aftercare is postponed till morning and the full clean up of the whole bed as well as his girlfriend will just have to wait.
@aerie717 & @ayatotiddies prompt request #11 - "No I want to hear you say it. Say it and I might give you what you want."
Summary: Y/n is used to getting her own way and Lando quite enjoys testing how far she's willing to go for that to happen.
Themes/warnings: Smut 18+, free-use, dom/sub & sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics, sexual acts for reward
Word count: 1k
Y/n looks at Lando with an angry pout on her expression while Lando smirks in amusement.
"Lando." Y/n whines while Lando's thumb ghost over her clit that is throbbing on the edge but he's neglecting to let her be pushed past that.
In truth, Lando wants something from y/n this time and he's unwilling to give her what she wants until she agrees to giving him what he wants from her.
"No I want to hear you say it. Say it and I might give you what you want." Lando states knowing that y/n is in an internal battle because she hates giving up anything to get what she wants.
He's alright got her tied up and restrained, completely exposed for his access.
"No? Alright, we'll just leave you here." Lando smiles making her choke on her voice with desperation.
"Ok, whenever you want." Y/n whines not really enjoying the idea of surrendering control to Lando. Part of liking to get what she wants includes having the control to get what she wants.
"Good girl." Lando smirks finally pressing against her clit, toying it around for only a few seconds before his hands soaked and her back is arched with the wave of her orgasm finally washing over her.
Y/n is still spasming when Lando's dick pushes into her and a moan passes her lips from the sudden intrusion. Lando shares a moan at the feeling of her muscles contracting around him as he begins thrusting in and out of her while y/n pulls on the restrains around her wrists. Her whole body craving and chasing another high, stretching to accommodate his size and the rapid movements.
Lando's hand comes up to her neck, restricting her breathing slightly though not completely cutting her off.
His thrusts pick up as he feels her stomach start to tense at the build up of another orgasm that she doesn't fight for even a second as it hits her and she moans, her throat vibrating against Lando's hand before he spills into her with a moan of her name.
-
"Are you busy?" Y/n asks making Lando look away from his gaming set up.
"I was. Why?" Lando states since he's sorting out some Quadrant designs and figuring out times to fit in meetings around time in Woking and focusing on F1.
"Could I borrow your credit card?" Y/n asks flashing her teeth at him in a grin making Lando raise his hand and pull her lower lip down a little before she swallows back knowing she isn't about to have an easy ride like she'd hoped.
"I'd love to feel your mouth for a bit." Lando states earning a huff since she definitely thought catching him while he's busy meant that she'd be able to take his card and buy the new bag that she wants. She sighs moving down under his desk beginning to pull his already hard dick from his joggers. "What do you want to buy this time?"
"A bag. One that always gets sold out quickly." Y/n mumbles making a point of the fact that she's missed out on buying it once before.
"Then you better do a good job to make this quick so you can buy it." Lando smirks while y/n withholds her sigh, eyes with a flicker of annoyance that he's making her wait for it.
Y/n takes Lando's length down her throat, poking her tonsils as she holds a hand around what she can't fit in without force. Unsurprisingly y/n feels herself getting wet from her own actions and the feeling of how hard Lando is in her touch.
But eventually his cum shoots down her throat with her not failing to swallow it all before she shifts back breathing heavily.
"Here. Buy the bag and whatever else you'd like." Lando smiles holding out his car between two fingers.
Y/n smiles climbing out and taking the card before kissing him knowing he'd never let her step away without it and despite appearances she does actually love the man.
-
Lando looks at the young woman, jaw tweaking as he clenches his teeth together in impatience. After another moment he moves over grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her silently to the nearest bathroom.
"You made your point." Lando huffs knowing this is exactly what y/n wanted from him. Riling him up and dragging her out of there like a cave man to leave her leaking with his cum for the rest of the day and he has full intentions to do exactly that.
"Lando." Y/n whines as he pushes her up against the door after he's slammed it closed.
"You always get what you want somehow don't you?" Lando states ripping off her underwear with a rough tug making the elastic snap away before he tucks it into her pocket.
He's thrust into her knowing that she's already dripping, the excitement stirred by her own actions and knowing the anticipation of what was coming as a result of them making him slide into her without an inch of friction. A couple thrusts in and she's even splashing him as she moves to meet him each time.
They both seem to drag it out as long as possible before y/n finally moans, shameless to the fact anyone could hear them before she feels Lando spill into her, holding herself deep enough that his hand on her stomach can feel himself poking through her stomach.
"Satisfied?" Lando questions making her whimper but nod a little, feeling some beads of sweat make the material of her dress stick to her skin as he pulls out and lets it fall down as she feels gravity doing work with the copious amount of cum he's left in her already begin to slowly ooze out of her. "You can walk around with that on your thighs since that's what you wanted."
"Thank you." Y/n mumbles breathlessly before smiling sheepishly. "Do I really have to?"
"If you ever want to have an orgasm again you do."
Summary: Lando's girlfriend has a teddy bear who she's had since childhood and sleeps with tightly clutched in her arms every night. Lando feels stupid being jealous but he wants to be held like that too.
No part 2 requests please
Y/n sighs dreamily as she walks into the hotel room, yet another one to turn into a very short lived home.
Top priority.
Billy bear.
"First things first." Y/n grins pulling Billy from her bag and placing him down on her side of the bed then skipping over and jumping towards Lando who looks at her expectantly. "Shower?"
"Shower." Lando nods since y/n likes to always "shower the flight off" after she's settled Billy on the bed.
Y/n runs ahead while Lando stares at the permanent resident on his bed. His beady eyes looking back at him for a few beats before he huffs and follows his girlfriend.
He's aware he's on the losing side of a one sided war. The bear is not fighting him, and yet he's winning.
Fuck Billy.
He's even starting to hate the name.
"Do you want to go out for dinner or just get room service?" Lando asks as he steps into the shower with her, not being able to contain the urge to step forward and touch every part of her body that he can.
"Uhhh...I don't mind, are you in the mood for anything specific?" Y/n asks softly since usually she is pretty happy to follow whatever he wants to do. After all she wouldn't be here without him, so letting him.
"We can go out. I think I want to go to the same place we went last year." Lando states making her smile a little and nod.
She's completely unaware that he just doesn't want to eat with his arch enemy watching him.
-
Getting back from the restaurant, y/n sighs starting to get changed.
Today Lando's trying a different strategy and since y/n takes a while to get through her skincare routine and changing for bed. If he's quick and manages to distract her before she thinks about Billy then maybe he can cuddle her to sleep and toss the stupid bear out of the bed.
"God I'm so bloated...Id on't know if pizza was the right choice. Damn you for talking me into it."
"You looked happy when it was put down in front of you and that's what really matters to me." Lando shrugs then opening his arms. "Come cuddle with me, I want you."
"You want to cuddle?" Y/n snots climbing up from the bottom of the bed. "You spend half of the night kicking me and there that one time to slapped me."
"I was having a nightmare. I didn't meant to slap you." Lando pouts then straining his arms to stress that he wants to hug her.
"You're so cute when you're being all needy and clingy." Y/n coos before she straddles him, lying on top of him and nuzzling into his neck. "I love you, baby."
"I love you too...although I don't know if we can sleep like this." Lando states making her lift her head.
"You want to cuddle till we're asleep?" Y/n questions since she thought it was just cuddle for a bit then sleep. "Baby, that's going to end in tears. One of us will get hot and sweaty and...you snore."
"I-Yeah, I snore but I'm not going to get hot and sweaty." Lando mumbles trying his best not to sound as desperate for her as he sounds. Until... "You cuddle that bear more than you cuddle me."
"What bear-you mean Billy?" Y/n gasps then beginning to laugh and giggle as she watches him with amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Are you jealous of Billy?"
"No. It's a toy. I just think he could stay at home, at least while we're travelling around. What if you lose him? Or forget him? It just feels risky bringing him around all the time." Lando states trying to find legitimate reason he can think of that will make her agree with him and not just take the piss out of him.
"Billy comes everywhere with me. We're for lifers." Y/n frowns getting defensive over her love for her teddy bear who is reached for and grabbed. "I don't think I've ever slept a night without him."
Well now he just feels guilty.
Billy isn't just a teddy that she loves the toy is an extension of herself. Where she goes he goes, aside from she does withhold herself from taking him to the paddock for the actual races and track days.
"You look so sad...just ignore what I said. I'm being stupid." Lando murmurs earning her attention back to him as he rubs her sides as if he can rub the sad look in her eyes away. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to upset you."
"No. You're right...I think taking him around is kind of risky. But I just never thought about it."
"No." Lando huffs realising he's going to have to come clean because now he feels like a dick. "I just said it because I want you to cuddle me instead of that...bear."
"You-I knew it! You're jealous of Billy! Oh my gosh, you're so cute...Alright, soft shite. Let's find a way to keep us both happy because Billy's not going anywhere, but I'll cuddle my boyfriend too. Not just because you asked but because I love cuddling you, you muppet." Y/n grins making him almost deflate in relief that she's not upset. Even if it's maybe came at the cost of his ego. "I don't know why you didn't just say something this whole time."
Lando grumbles a little at her mocking before she begins to shift them around.
"I don't need to cuddle Billy...he just needs to be near me." Y/n mumbles in a focus as she rests her head on his chest, pressing into his side as she sort of tucks Billy into his other side just holding the bear with her hand while Lando waits until she's settle down into him and he finally places and arm around her. "Is this comfortable?"
"Yes. Definitely." Lando smiles not being able to deny the warmth spreading through his chest at the position he's in.
Maybe he can make peace with Billy being there so long as she knows he wants her to cuddle him. Actually having her on one side while she tightly grips Billy so the bear is pressed into his other side, it feels pretty nice. He can definitely enjoy this.
"I love you." Lando whispers still smiling at this little victory.
"I love you too, my adorable needy boyfriend." Y/n jokes pressured a kissing to his chest.
🌸 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando’s obsessed with missionary—because he can rub her clit, watch her fall apart, and fuck her deep. And sometimes? He makes it soft, slow and absolutely passionate.
🌸 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
🌸 word count ━━━━━━━ 4.2k
🌸 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, multiple orgasms, teasing?,
Based on this request.
The low hum of the city outside her apartment window was almost comforting, but Y/N couldn’t shake the tightness in her chest. Lando had texted her an hour ago, saying he was on his way over.
“Be there soon, princess.”
Her heart fluttered at the nickname, just like it always did. It wasn’t the first time he’d called her that—he’d said it a handful of times before, usually soft and playful, always without hesitation—but somehow, each time still made her stomach flip. She never got tired of it. Princess. It felt too good, too tender, especially coming from him.
Her eyes drifted to the bouquet of roses sitting quietly on her kitchen counter, the petals still fresh and vibrant despite the week that had passed since he’d sent them. She had cried when they arrived—hot, uncontrollable tears streaming down her face the moment she read the note tucked inside.
It had been a terrible week. One of those weeks where everything felt heavy and dull and wrong. And then, out of nowhere, the flowers had shown up. From him.
No one had ever given her flowers before. Not once. Not even during birthdays, not even from past boyfriends. But Lando had. Just because he knew she’d had a shit week and wanted to make her feel better.
She didn’t even know how he found out she’d been struggling.
But somehow, he knew. And he sent roses. And he called her princess.
And now he was on his way.
She adjusted the hem of her oversized sweater, the one she’d stolen from him months ago. It still smelled like him—his cologne, his warmth. It was a dangerous reminder of how much she’d grown to crave him, even if she hated admitting it to herself. The way her fingers curled tighter around the fabric made her feel stupid, like she was trying to hold on to something she couldn’t name. Something fragile. Something that scared her just as much as it comforted her.
Because she wanted him. In ways that ran far deeper than she’d ever planned.
The knock at the door startled her, and she took a deep breath before opening it. There he was, leaning against the doorframe, his hair slightly messy, that teasing grin on his face. “Hey, baby,” he said, his voice low and warm.
Why did he have to look like that? She stepped aside to let him in, her cheeks already heating up. “Hey,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.
He didn’t waste time. As soon as the door clicked shut, he pulled her into his arms, his hands sliding around her waist. She could feel the firmness of his body against hers, the way his presence seemed to fill the room. “Missed you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.
She shivered, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt. “I missed you too,” she admitted, though the words felt heavy on her tongue. Missed him. She always missed him when he wasn’t around, even when she told herself she shouldn’t.
Lando’s fingers traced a path up her spine, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft but probing. “Everything okay?”
Quiet. She had been quiet. She’d been avoiding him more than usual—dodging his calls, making vague excuses to skip out on group hangouts. It wasn’t just him. It was everything. The weight of it all. The exhaustion. The overwhelming pressure she couldn’t explain without falling apart.
“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.
He didn’t look convinced. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. “You’re not fine, princess,” he said, his tone soft but unshakable. “Talk to me.”
She hesitated, her eyes searching his. There was so much she wanted to say—how work had been suffocating, how she’d been running on empty, how she didn’t even recognize herself some days. But the words caught in her throat, too heavy to voice, too fragile to release.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered instead, her voice cracking just enough to betray her.
He didn’t press. He just looked at her like she was something precious. And when she leaned into his touch, her lips parting as he leaned down to kiss her, it felt like breathing for the first time in days.
It was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was testing her. But then she kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his neck, pulling him closer. The tension between them shifted, the air crackling with something unspoken.
Lando’s grip on her tightened, his hands sliding down to her hips. He broke the kiss, his breath warm against her skin. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice rough with need.
She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t trust herself to speak, didn’t trust herself to stop him even if she wanted to. And right now, she didn’t want to.
He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom. His lips found hers again, harder this time, more demanding. She felt the heat building between them, the way his body pressed against hers as he laid her down on the bed.
His hands were everywhere, touching her, exploring her, making her feel things she couldn’t ignore. She arched into his touch, her breath hitching as he pulled off her sweater, leaving her in just her bra and leggings.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his eyes filled with desire as he looked down at her.
She blushed, her hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled, the sound low and throaty as he helped her pull his shirt off. His chest was bare, his skin warm under her fingertips. She traced the lines of his muscles, her heart racing as he leaned down to kiss her again.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down slowly with a teasing drag. She lifted her hips to help him, her legs trembling as the fabric slipped down her thighs and off her ankles. The cool air kissed her skin, sending a shiver through her body. Lando’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze trailing up her legs, her hips, her stomach, like he was memorizing every inch of her.
Next, his hands moved to the clasp of her bra, his fingers deft and steady despite the hunger in his eyes. She held her breath as he unhooked it, the fabric falling away to reveal her breasts. His low groan of appreciation made her blush, but she didn’t look away. She could see the intensity in his gaze, the way he seemed to worship her with his eyes alone.
Finally, his fingers hooked into the edge of her underwear, pulling them down with the same deliberate slowness. She lifted her hips again, her heart pounding as he revealed her completely. There was no hiding now, no barriers between them.
Even after all this time—after all the nights tangled in his sheets, after countless times they’d undressed each other with trembling hands and hungry mouths—she still felt shy when she was naked in front of him. Something about the way he looked at her, like he saw everything, always made her chest tighten and her cheeks burn.
But she also felt safe. In a way she couldn’t quite explain. Like he didn’t just want her—he cherished her.
Lando’s hands skimmed her thighs, her hips, as if he was savoring the moment. His gaze never left hers.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”
She bit her lip, her cheeks burning as he leaned down to kiss her again. His hands kept moving, his touch sending shivers through her body. When he finally stripped off his own clothes, she couldn’t help but stare. He was beautiful, every inch of him, and she felt a surge of desire that she couldn’t ignore.
He settled between her legs, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress in the most intoxicating way. She could feel him—hard and ready—against her inner thigh, and a gasp escaped her lips as his hips shifted, brushing against her sensitive core. His hands gripped her hips firmly, anchoring her in place as he leaned down to kiss her neck, his lips warm and insistent.
His teeth grazed her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her that made her arch into him. She could feel his breath, hot and uneven, against her ear as he whispered, “You feel so good, princess.” His voice was rough, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
One of his hands slid up her side, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist before cupping her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak, and she couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped her. “Lando,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
He responded with a low groan, the length of his hard cock pressing and grinding against her slick folds, teasing her clit with slow, deliberate movements. She gasped, her hips instinctively arching into his, craving more of the delicious friction. His cock felt so good against her, the heat of it sending waves of pleasure through her body. His lips trailed lower, down her collarbone, his teeth nipping gently at her skin as he moved. Every touch, every kiss, felt like he was worshipping her, like he couldn’t get enough.
Lando’s hips shifted slightly, the tip of his cock brushing against her clit in a way that made her whimper. “You like that, baby?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. She could only nod, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. He was teasing her, driving her crazy with the slow, deliberate pace of his movements, his cock sliding against her sensitive clit, making her toes curl and her body tremble with need.
“You’re so wet for me,” he said, his voice rough and filled with satisfaction. His hand slid down to where their bodies were pressed together, his fingers brushing against her slick folds, making her moan. He was torturing her, in the best way possible, his cock still rubbing against her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance, driving her closer to the edge with every touch.
“I love the way you react to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His lips found hers again, his kiss deep and consuming, his tongue teasing hers as his hands explored her body. She could feel the urgency in his touch, the way he seemed to be holding back, but only just.
She was losing herself in him, in the way he made her feel, and she didn’t want it to stop. Every touch, every kiss, was pulling her deeper, making her crave more. He was all she could think about, all she could feel. And she knew, in that moment, she was completely his.
“Lando,” she breathed, her hands gripping his shoulders.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.
He reached down, his fingers finding her clit, circling it with a gentle yet firm pressure as he positioned himself at her entrance. She could feel the heat of him, the thick, hard length of his cock pressing against her slick folds, teasing her, making her body tremble with anticipation. Her breath hitched, her nails digging into his shoulders as she waited, her stomach tightening with a mix of nerves and desire.
Then, slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed inside her.
The moment his tip breached her entrance, she gasped, a sharp, breathy sound that filled the room. Her pussy clenched around him, hot and tight, as he stretched her, filling her in the most exquisite way. The sensation was overwhelming—his cock was thick, hard, and insistent, sliding deeper with every inch, igniting a fire in her core that she couldn’t ignore. She felt full, achingly so, as he sank deeper, her body yielding to his, welcoming him with a shiver of pleasure that ran through her entire being.
Lando’s breath caught, a low groan escaping his lips as her warmth enveloped him. She was so tight, so wet, the heat of her pussy gripping him like a vice, making his head spin. He could feel every ridge, every pulse of her walls around him, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to lose himself in her entirely. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost pained with desperation. “You feel so fucking good.”
She could see the strain in his face, the way he was holding back, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep himself steady. His eyes were locked on hers, filled with a hunger that made her stomach clench. He moved slowly, his hips grinding against hers, the thick length of his cock dragging against her sensitive walls in a way that made her moan, her hands gripping him tighter.
“You’re so tight,” he breathed, his voice trembling as he pushed deeper, his cock stretching her in the most delicious way. “So wet for me, princess. Fuck, I can feel how much you want me.”
She could barely form words, her body too consumed by the sensation of him inside her. Every inch he pushed in sent waves of pleasure through her, her pussy clenching around him as if trying to pull him deeper. She could feel the weight of him, the way his hips pressed against hers, his cock filling her completely, touching her in places that made her see stars.
He paused when he was fully sheathed inside her, his breath hot and uneven against her skin. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice raw with possession, his eyes never leaving hers. “All mine.”
Then he started to move—slowly, deliberately, his hips rolling against hers, his cock sliding in and out of her with a torturous rhythm. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her clit pulsing with need as he rubbed it with his fingers in perfect sync with his strokes.
She was everywhere—the way her arms clung to him, her nails digging into his skin, her thighs trembling beneath him. Lando’s forehead rested against hers, his breath hot and uneven as he rocked into her, slow and deep, each thrust dragging a gasp from her lips. His hand was between them, fingers rubbing gentle circles on her clit, the pressure perfect and maddening. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “You feel that? You’re so fucking perfect like this.”
She gasped his name, the sound barely audible over the pounding of her heart. He kissed her then—deep, desperate, reverent—his tongue tangling with hers as if he could consume every part of her. “Look at me, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Don’t look away. I need to see you fall apart.”
Her legs quivered as he pinned her wrists above her head, his body flush with hers, his slow, deliberate strokes dragging her closer to the edge. “Say it,” he growled, his lips grazing her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. “Say you’re mine.”
She could barely think, let alone speak, her body shaking as his fingers worked her clit with relentless precision. “You’re mine, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with possession. “My princess. My everything.”
Her thighs spread wider, her hips lifting to meet his every thrust as he took her deeper, his forehead pressed to hers. “This,” he groaned, the rhythm of his hips steady and unrelenting. “This is how I always want to have you. Just like this, princess. Every damn night.”
Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as the tension coiled tighter, threatening to snap. “Why?” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “Why... like this?”
His answer was immediate, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “Because I can see your face when you come. Because I can feel you better. And because—” His fingers worked her clit harder, the pressure making her back arch. “—this is the only position where I can love you and ruin you at the same time.”
She was already shaking, her body hovering on the edge, when he whispered it again, his voice rough with desire. “I love fucking you like this because I can touch you like this.” His fingers rubbed her clit harder, his eyes locked on hers, watching her come undone. “And because no one else gets to see you like this. No one.”
His thrusts grew messier, his rhythm faltering as his fingers worked her clit with relentless pressure. “You don’t get it,” he panted, his breath hot against her skin. “I’m obsessed with this. With you. With making you come like this.”
She tried to hide her face, her cheeks burning as she felt herself nearing the edge, but he wouldn’t let her. “Eyes on me, baby,” he growled, his fingers rubbing her clit harder, his thrusts deep and rough. “You’re so fucking pretty when you come. Don’t look away.”
Her legs began to tremble, her whole body shaking uncontrollably as he kept thrusting, kept rubbing her clit just right. “You always do this,” he murmured, his voice ragged, his eyes locked on hers. “Always shake when you’re about to come. Drives me fucking crazy.”
He pushed deeper, his fingers working her clit fast and messy, until she cried out, her body convulsing as she came undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you fall apart. I need it.”
And fall apart she did, completely and utterly his. Her body seized, a wave of pleasure crashing over her so intensely that her vision blurred. Her pussy clenched around him, pulsing, tightening, as if trying to pull him even deeper inside her. Lando groaned, his cock still buried to the hilt, his hips stuttering as he felt her walls gripping him like a vice. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice raw, trembling. “You’re so tight. I can feel you squeezing me—every fucking inch.”
She gasped, her back arching off the bed, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as the sensation consumed her. Her clit throbbed under his relentless touch, her pussy quivering around his cock as he kept thrusting, slow but deep, dragging out every last shiver of her orgasm. “Lando,” she whimpered, her voice breaking, her body trembling uncontrollably. “I can’t—it’s too much—I—”
But he didn’t stop. He kept moving, his cock sliding in and out of her slick, swollen folds, her pussy still fluttering around him as he pushed her higher, dragged her further. “Look at me, princess,” he commanded, his voice rough, desperate. She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze, and what she saw there—pure, unrelenting desire—sent another wave of heat crashing through her. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips grinding against hers, his cock filling her so completely she thought she might break. “You feel so fucking good when you come. I can’t get enough of it.”
And then, just as her orgasm began to ease, his rhythm faltered. His breath hitched, his jaw clenching as he drove into her one last time, deep and hard, her name a ragged whisper on his lips. He came with a low, guttural groan, his cock throbbing inside her as he spilled himself, hot and thick, filling her in a way that made her shudder. Her pussy milked him, her walls still clenching around his length as he emptied himself, his body trembling against hers.
For a moment, they were both still, the only sounds their ragged breathing, the heat of their bodies pressed together. Lando’s forehead rested against hers, his breath hot and uneven as he whispered, “You’re mine, princess. Forever.”
And in that moment, she believed him. The words hung in the air between them, raw and heavy, as his forehead rested against hers, their breaths uneven and tangled. She felt the weight of his confession in the way he held her—like letting go wasn’t an option. He was still inside her, warm and throbbing faintly, grounding her in a way that made her feel both exposed and safe. She wanted to believe him—needed to—because this… this was everything.
Lando shifted slightly, his hand sliding down her side in a slow, deliberate caress. His fingers traced the curve of her hip, then moved between her thighs, finding her clit with practiced ease. He rubbed in slow, steady circles, his touch soft but certain, and a soft gasp escaped her lips.
“This,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “this is why I love missionary. Because I can feel all of you.”
Her cheeks burned, eyes fluttering shut as he kept working her clit with maddening precision. He knew every inch of her, exactly how to touch her, how to break her down.
“I can see your face,” he whispered against her skin. “Every little reaction, every breath, every moan. All mine.”
Her hips lifted instinctively, seeking more, and he chuckled—low and deep.
“You’re so fucking responsive,” he said, fingers pressing harder. “Every time I touch you, you act like it’s the first time. Drives me insane, baby.”
She could still feel him inside her, thick and pulsing, his hips slowly grinding against hers.
“And I can rub you just like this,” he murmured, circling her clit with expert rhythm. “I can make you come while I’m still inside. Feel you tighten around me like you’re pulling me deeper.”
She moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kept going, relentless.
“I love it,” he breathed against her ear. “The way you feel wrapped around me. The way you hold me like you never want to let go.”
Her clit throbbed under his touch, her body clenching around him in anticipation.
“And this,” he said, his voice a rasp, “your clit… so sensitive. I love knowing I’m the one who gets to touch it like this. The one who gets to make you fall apart.”
She was already there, tension winding tight, her body poised on the edge. And he knew. He always did.
“You’re close, aren’t you, princess?” he murmured, fingers quickening, pressure unyielding. “I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes.”
She nodded, breath hitching, legs trembling.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Let go for me. Let me feel it. Let me see you.”
And she did. Her body convulsed, pussy clamping down around him as she came hard, waves of pleasure crashing through her. He didn’t stop—kept rubbing, kept thrusting slow and deep, drawing out every last ripple of release.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, breath ragged. “You feel so fucking good when you come.”
When she finally stilled, her body limp and trembling, he leaned down to kiss her, his lips soft and tender. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his fingers still tracing the curve of her hip. She sighed into the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the warmth of his lips against hers. But then his hand moved lower again, his fingers brushing against her clit, and she gasped, her body jerking at the sudden sensitivity.
“Lando,” she breathed, her voice shaky, her hands pressing against his chest. “Stop. It’s—it’s too much. I’m too sensitive.”
He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, his fingers dancing lightly over her clit, just enough to make her squirm. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear. “You’re so fucking sensitive right now. It’s adorable.”
“Lando,” she whined, her hands gripping his shoulders as she tried to push him away, but he didn’t stop immediately. Instead, he lingered, his touch still light but insistent, his lips brushing against her neck as he whispered, “Just one more touch, princess. You know you like it.”
She shook her head, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her clit again, the sensation almost too much to bear. “Please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Stop. I can’t—”
He finally relented, his hand moving away from her clit, but he didn’t pull out of her. Instead, he stayed right where he was, his cock still buried deep inside her, his warmth filling her in the most intimate way. He kissed her again, his lips soft and tender, his hands moving to cup her face as he whispered, “Okay, baby. I’ll stop. But I’m not done loving you yet.”
His lips trailed over her face, kissing her cheeks, her jawline, her forehead, every touch so gentle it made her heart ache. He was everywhere, his breath warm against her skin, his lips worshipping her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I could spend forever just like this, just loving you.”
She felt her cheeks burn, her heart swelling at his words. He was so tender, so loving, and it made her feel things she couldn’t put into words. Her hands cupped his face, her fingers brushing over his stubble as she whispered, “I love you, Lando.”
His eyes locked with hers, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned down to kiss her again. “I love you too, princess,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “So fucking much.”
OKAY BUT do you🫵🏻 think that Lando likes to do it in front of a mirror? Like have you watch him ruin you? Yk? Grabbing you by your hair when you look down or look away? Pushing his body against yours so his big ass hand can wrap around your throat and force you to look at him as he’s having his way with you? Telling you the dirtiest of things with this hot ass accent? I think yes
Girl...
On the edge of the bed, legs spread wide for him, his chest flush against your back, one arm wrapped tight around your waist to keep you in place. The other around your throat, pressing enough to make you lightheaded, to remind you who’s in control.
“Look at us.” I’M ABOUT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A CLIFF
You don’t obey fast enough. You try to turn away as the pleasure gets too much, but his grip tightens immediately. The hand around your throat tilts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his in the mirror. To see how he ruins you.
Slow at first, just to tease. Then rough, hips snapping into yours, his hand sliding down to your belly so he can feel what he’s doing to you. And if you dare look away again? He’ll tsk tsk tsk you, and grab a fistful of your hair to yank you right back. Lovingly. Because the whole point is making you see what he sees, right? Just how good you look when you’re completely his 😌👍🏻
⚡︎ PAIRING: lando norris x reader | ⚡︎ WC: 1.1K
⚡︎ GENRE: fluff!
⚡︎ INCOMING RADIO: based on the latest landolog and the chicken shop date where lando said he'd never been little spoon // dedicated to @tsunodaradio, to whom i promised little spoon! lando
Lando melts into you before the door even shuts, his body sagging forward, forehead finding the curve of your shoulder like a prayer answered.
His breath is uneven, frayed at the edges, warm where it fans against your collarbone. His entire body trembles—fine, imperceptible shivers rolling through muscle and sinew, the remnants of a day spent wringing himself out to the last drop.
You feel it in the weight of him, how he isn’t just leaning against you but pouring himself into you, a slow and silent collapse.
He smells of sweat dried into fabric, of rubber and asphalt, of adrenaline still lingering in his bloodstream. His shirt clings to his back, damp and heavy, and when your hand slides up his spine, your fingers meet heat—his body still burning from exertion, from the sprints, from the bike, from pushing himself to his absolute limit just hours ago.
“Tough one?” you murmur, pressing your lips into his curls. They’re damp too, still tangled from his helmet, still holding the weight of everything he’s had to endure today.
He exhales, the sound thin, almost empty. “Yeah.”
Just that. No complaints, no details, just the word. But his body tells the rest of the story—the way his fingers twitch uselessly against your waist, the way his knees buckle slightly, how his weight leans into you so fully, so completely, like standing on his own is simply too much.
“You made it through,” you say, voice soft, coaxing, the way you would speak to something fragile.
Lando hums, a sound low and breathy, like the simple act of existing is a burden.
You let him stay there, let him take from you, let him breathe in your presence, let him feel you. Your fingers card through his curls, untangling the mess left behind by hours of training, hours of pushing, hours of his body being reduced to numbers and stats and thresholds. He shudders when you scratch lightly at his scalp, his body sagging further, breath hitching on a sound that’s almost embarrassing in its relief.
“Felt like I was dying,” he mumbles. “Lower body stuff first. It wasn’t too bad, at the start.”
You hum in sympathy, fingers still moving, and he leans into it, like a cat seeking warmth. “I know. Keep going.”
“Neck strength test was next,” he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. “Thought Jon was going to pull my head clean off.”
You smile softly at the absurdity of it, but Lando isn’t smiling. He groans instead, and you can feel his body tighten with the memory.
“Then the VO2 max test…” He swallows, and you feel the shudder that runs through him. “They make me run on a treadmill, but they keep pushing the incline up, and the speed’s faster than I can keep up with. It’s supposed to push me to exhaustion, but by the end, I was pretty much… ready to just collapse right there.”
You press your lips into his temple. “But you didn’t.”
“I should have,” he argues, and you laugh softly, rubbing little circles into his scalp.
He sighs, body finally slackening, boneless in your arms.
You sigh in sympathy, brushing your lips across his temple. “And the heat test?”
He groans. “The worst. Forty degrees. I had to ride the bike for 30 minutes under that heat, my body was a furnace. I nearly couldn’t finish it.” His voice drops into a whisper. “But I did. Nearly threw up.”
You press your lips into his skin, and he leans into it, a little shaky, like your touch is the only thing anchoring him to the floor.
“You’re incredible,” you whisper.
He hums, barely a sound, and it feels like he’s gone somewhere quieter now, somewhere inside himself where the noise of the day doesn’t reach.
You let him stay there, holding him as he starts to fall into the silence, and when he finally looks up, his eyes are tired, but there’s something softer in them—something more vulnerable than you’re used to.
You press a kiss to the crown of his head.
“Come on,” you murmur. “Bed.”
It takes effort to peel himself away from you, but he follows, sluggish and heavy, through the quiet hum of your apartment. He moves like his body doesn’t belong to him anymore, bumping into corners, misjudging the distance between the doorframe and his shoulder. You let him trail behind you, watching him in the mirror as you wash your face, and when you glance over, he’s just standing there, blinking slowly, watching you.
“You’re staring,” you say, voice light.
He shrugs. “You’re pretty.”
His voice is a whisper now, something slow and weightless.
He moves on autopilot, brushing his teeth, stripping out of his sweat-dampened clothes, tugging on one of the old shirts he keeps here. And then, when he finally climbs into bed, he does something he never does.
He turns onto his side, pressing his back against your chest, curling into himself.
It surprises you. Because Lando isn’t this—he isn’t the one who seeks comfort, he isn’t the one who clings. He’s the protector, the one who holds you. The one who fits himself around you at night, arm draped over your waist, fingers skimming your ribs, lips pressed into the back of your neck. That’s how it always is. That’s how he likes it.
But not tonight.
Tonight, his body is heavy with exhaustion, his mind still buzzing, and he just wants. Wants to be held, wants to be soothed, wants to let go for once.
So you let him.
You press yourself against him, wrap an arm around his waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of his neck. Your fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing slow, gentle shapes into his skin.
He exhales, long and slow, like all the tension in his body is finally bleeding out.
“You wanna be the little spoon tonight?” you tease, voice half-laughing, warm against his skin.
Lando makes a small, sleepy noise, the kind that makes your chest ache with fondness.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice muffled against your sheets.
“Always,” you murmur. “You’ve got me.”
Your lips press against his shoulder, soft and lingering, your touch featherlight where it maps the lines of his ribs.
And in this moment—after the sprints, the heat, the tests, and the pain—you both drift into a quiet, steady rhythm. Because no matter how much he gives of himself, no matter how much he sacrifices for his dream, this is the part of the day that truly matters.
🟢 summary ──── A moment of boredom turns into a game of control and restraint, with Lando pushing boundaries neither he nor his girlfriend expected on such a busy day.
🟢 a/n ──── This one has been HIGHLY requested after one of you guys sent in this ask, so I shall deliver. I hope you enjoy it as much as you imagined & can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍
Also, yes. This is the second one-shot of the day, because I ACCIDENTALLY posted this Charles Leclerc piece earlier. It’s very short and I was supposed to post it after this one OOPSIES get greedy & go check it out. Thank you, love you all 💋
THERE IS HARDLY enough room for more than two people in the driver’s room. A physio table is pushed against the wall, a couple of chairs sit tucked under a desk covered in notes, post-its and water bottles, and a row of plastic shelves is holding some race suits, a change of clothes and toiletries, and a spare helmet. There is a faint scent of fresh rubber and overall newness of the place in the air that blends with the smell of rain, and something so distinctly Lando, a mix of his cologne and fabric softener.
She has been waiting for hours now. Day two of testing in Bahrain is dragging, and even though she loves watching her boyfriend hit the track, the long hours spent doing nothing are starting to wear on her. She finished reading three books in two days, rewatched her favorite TV show, and scrolled through her feed until the app informed her that there were no new posts.
She sighs, running a hand over the edge of the desk before deciding to tidy up a little. Not that there’s much to clean, since McLaren keeps these rooms nearly spotless, but at least it gives her something to do. A few minutes later, the post-its are arranged on the wall by color, the documents are organized in chronological order, and the water bottles have found a new home, crammed under the table.
Out of curiosity, her fingers brush over one of Lando’s new helmets, freshly designed for the pre-season testing. It’s sleek, predominantly black with neon streaks and intricate models running along the sides. On impulse, she lifts it, feeling its surprising weight before slipping it over her head. The padding presses snugly against her ears, muffling the distant sounds of mechanics still at work in the garage.
She can’t help but feel a vague claustrophobia surrounding her, but the feeling isn’t necessarily bad. On the contrary, it gives her the impression of safety, even if it inhibits her other senses.
Grinning to herself, she pulls out her phone and angles the camera for a selfie. The reflection in the visor catches the glow of the overhead lights, giving her an futuristic look. She continues to snap a few more photos, adjusting the tilt of her head, until a blurred figure appears in the background of her screen.
“Having fun all by yourself?” Lando’s voice is amused yet he sounds tired, and before she can turn around, she feels his arms wrap around her waist from behind. He leans in, lips ghosting over her shoulder in a lazy kiss.
She huffs out a laugh, nudging at his arms, “I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. You scared me.”
Lando chuckles, hands splaying over her stomach, thumbs brushing absentminded circles through the fabric of her shirt. “Sorry. Didn’t expect to catch you playing dress-up with my stuff.”
“Finders keepers,” she says in a singing voice, making Lando chuckle again.
“Yeah? You like it?”
“It looks cool,” she admits, “Therefore, it makes you look cool.”
Lando squeezes her a little tighter, “That mouth on you,” he teases.
The girl giggles, “Am I wrong? Also, you should’ve knocked, by the way,” she continues, reaching up to pull at the visor so she can actually see him.
“I should knock on a door that has my name on it?”
“Yeah, you do!” she sounds revolted, “Especially when you know there’s a lady waiting for you inside.”
Lando’s gaze darkens ever so slightly as he takes her in. She looks like a mirage under the dim light of the small room, her curls coming untamed from under his helmet and her eyes so bright and filled with love, looking back at him.
He nods with a boyish smile, “I’ll try to remember that next time.”
Maybe it’s just exhaustion making his eyes so heavy-lidded, the lingering adrenaline from a long day fading into something softer. But when she catches him staring, Lando has the same soft gaze he does whenever they sit on the couch and he’s about to doze off; he looks unintentionally hot like this, worn out but content.
“Alright, racer boy. Can we go now?” she asks, pressing back against him slightly.
Lando sighs, reluctant. “Not yet. I still have a couple of hours to go. Gotta go over the data with the engineers,” his fingers tighten briefly on her hips before he steps back. “You can head back to the hotel if you’re bored. I’ll get you a car.”
She pouts, “It’s not as fun without you.”
That wins her another chuckle, but this time, there’s something else in Lando’s expression. His gaze is shamelessly dragging over her with an intensity that makes her pulse stutter. It’s only now that he really registers that she’s wearing his helmet, his name and number stamped all over.
She’s worn his clothes before — his hoodies, his merch, his team’s attire — but this feels completely different. It makes his mouth dry and head spin, and he might be exhausted, but suddenly, swallowing the lump in his throat, Lando realizes he’s so turned on.
“Then stay,” he encourages her, “I have half an hour to decompress before going to debriefing. I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”
His suit suddenly feels tighter, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He swallows again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he exhales slowly.
“Is that so?” she challanges him. “Something in mind already?”
He runs a hand through his curls before reaching for her again, “Maybe,” his voice is low, amused but laced with something indulgent. His fingers skim her waist, tracing the hem of her shirt as he tugs her closer. “You’re pretty inspiring.”
She tilts her head slightly, the visor still lifted so he can see the teasing glint in her eyes. “Well, that’s new,” she laughs. “But I was just messing around.”
Lando hums, unconvinced. “Sure you were.”
She moves to take the helmet off, but his hand catches hers mid-motion.
“No, leave it,” says Lando, thumb grazing over her knuckles. His breath is warm when he leans in, his next words spoken directly against its glossy material. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.”
A shiver rolls down her spine, and it quickly goes south, right between her legs. It makes Lando grin subtly, then he reaches for the visor, pulling it down with a definitive, loud click. At that, her world narrows in an instant, and the limited view somehow makes every touch and every breath between them more intense.
Lando walks her back until she’s perched on the edge of the physio table, her pulse hammering as she watches him, excited, but mostly curious about his plans. They have thirty minutes, so his movements aren’t rushed in any way. Quite the opposite. They’re almost lazy, but there’s something precise about the way he reaches for the zipper of his race suit.
He rolls his shoulders, loosening up, then adjusts the height of the table so that when he sinks to his knees in front of her, she’s exactly where he wants her to be. Patiently, his fingers trail up her legs, making slow work of the button on her jeans. There’s no hurry in the way he peels them down, taking her underwear with them in one go, but the moment he gets rid of them, there’s a shift in his demeanor.
Lando exhales sharply, his large hands splaying over her thighs as he looks at her, half-lust and half-serious. “You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he says, a hint of mischief curling around his words. “These walls aren’t real, and anyone passing by the door can hear us blink.”
There was a little giggle stuck in her throat, but now she barely has time to react before his fingers part her, his touch light at first, just exploring while he preps her with the dexterity of a man who did it countless of times before.
Her breath catches at the first slow stroke, her thighs tensing as he traces circles where she’s most sensitive. The first sound she makes is barely a whisper of a whimper, that Lando trained his ears to hear, since is muffled inside the helmet.
He huffs out a quiet laugh, “Is that my cue?”
Before she can answer, Lando leans in.
Initially, his mouth is warm and merciful. He licks into her with a sort of tamed hunger that’s out of his character, savoring every little shift of her hips, every shudder she tries to suppress. Even so, it sends her a clear message: even though his energy is low from the long day, his need to taste her is anything but.
The world outside their room hums with noise — faint conversations, the occasional shuffle of footsteps, the distant whir of power tools in the garage. But all she can focus on is the way he’s lapping at her clit, the slick sound of it embarrassingly loud in the small space, her own whimpers barely contained behind the visor.
Lando chuckles against her, the vibration making her head tilt back slightly; the weight of the helmet forces her to let her head fall against the wall, which positions her even better in front of him.
“Gonna have to be quieter than that,” he teases, slipping his fingers between her folds, pressing just enough to make her squirm.
She barely manages to shake her head, her breath ragged. The visor fogs up as a result, which forces her to close her eyes, since her sense of sight is officially useless.
Lando looks up proudly, fingers pushing deeper as he settles in, more than happy to test her limits. He knows how to curl them just right, the wet sounds obscene in the stillness of the room.
His free hand grips her thigh like he’s starved, holding her open for him, his name echoing softly inside the helmet — muted yet desperate. He feels the way she gets even more aroused with each passing second, coating his fingers with every slick stroke, her body responding to him exactly as it does every single time he takes over.
Startled with new sensations experienced in the dark, she brings a shaky hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the moans threatening to spill out, only to realize, all over again, that she can’t. A frustrated whimper escapes instead, the same hand scrambling for something to support herself. Finally, her fingers clutch at the edge of the table, but it’s useless; her hips are already rolling against Lando, chasing more.
“Mhm,” he hums, his voice shallow. “Getting so wet for me, should’ve done this ages ago. Why didn’t we?”
She gasps, trembling on the edge and so ready to agree with him, but then Lando stops, and the loss of his fingers is almost unbearable. Before she can think, a loud, frustrated moan slips past her lips, making him laugh at her impatience.
She’s too gone now, drunk on the feeling, and the weight of the helmet is definitely not helping. Not when she’s melting under his touch, making it hard to move, and pretty much do anything but stay there, waiting. Aching for more.
Lando watches her for a moment, dark-eyed and smirking, already hard just from seeing her like this, her body so pliant and responsive under his hands. He pulls himself out with one hand, stroking lightly, and with the other, he grips the edge of the helmet, forcing her to look at him.
“Alright, baby, I’m serious. No more of that, okay?” asks Lando. “If someone hears us, it’s gonna be bad. And we don’t want that, do we?” he continues, watching her gathering all her strength only to nod slightly. “That’s right. The second I hear you moan, I’ll have to stop.”
Even Lando knows it’s a lie, but he had to say it, just in case.
She swallows, nodding again as best as she can, her pulse a frantic rhythm against his fingers when he drags his hands down her sides, holding her still. Then, with a precise snap of his hips, he buries himself inside her, stealing the breath from her lungs.
The force of it sends a shudder through the physio table, the legs creaking against the floor. She barely has time to adjust before he thrusts again, deeper this time, pressing her body into the table like he’s trying to mold her into it. Her thighs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, desperate to keep him there, to keep him buried inside her where she needs him most, the weight of him, the pressure and the friction maddening.
Lando swallows a moan, but some of it manages to slip past gritted teeth, “Fuck, you look—” he cuts himself off, sucking in a sharp breath. He doesn’t even have words for it. The way she feels around him and the heat of her pulling him back in every time he dares to pull away, it’s enough to make his mind go blank.
The table shifts again, inching against the floor with every thrust. She grips at the suit still clinging to his shoulders, trying to hold onto something, but there’s no escape from the way he’s driving into her, every drag of his cock making her shake beneath him.
“Lando…”
He knows. He feels it too. The way they’re teetering on the edge of something dangerously intoxicating, and the way they’re doing that together.
His hands tighten on her, his next thrust shoving the table another inch to the side. “Shit,” he breathes, voice husky with restraint. “Hold on, love. A little more, yeah?” He grips the edges of the table and snaps his hips forward again, watching the way her body reacts to him. “Fucking hell,” he spits, eyes dark as he watches her fall apart under him, little by little. “Keep me in, baby. Like that.”
She clings to him without hesitation, like she was made for this, for him. He’s marking her and he knows it, his fingers moving back to her waist, digging into her soft flesh. Lando’s name is all over her, in ways that only he can see, in places only he gets to touch. And the way she lets him, makes his head spin.
In the haze of it all, a sudden, foreign thought crashes into him like a gut-punch: her name next to his. It’s ridiculous, completely out of place in a moment like this, but it paralyzes him for a second. Until his body reacts on its own, fire spreading through his veins. He leans forward, caging her in, his thrusts becoming sharper, more desperate. His forehead presses against the cool surface of the helmet for just a moment, grounding himself, before he pulls back and looks at her.
He can barely see her eyes, wide and glazed over, but it’s enough. His fingers tighten on her hips as he slams back into her, dragging her flush against him, letting her feel every inch of his length. The sharp noise that the table makes underneath them is lost in the delicious sounds of their bodies moving together, of their heavy breathing, of the desperate way she silently whimpers his name like she wants to keep it on her tongue forever.
He’s spiraling, drowning in the heat of her, in the thought that she lets him take her like this, lets him ruin her for anyone else.
Yet somehow, it’s still not enough.
Her hands fly up instinctively, grasping at the helmet, knuckles turning white as she tries to steady herself against the overwhelming feeling of him.
Outside the room, voices pass by again, too close, and Lando clenches his jaw, fighting his own demons as he’s forcing himself to stay quiet.
Luckily, she’s close. He can feel it in the way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes as she tries her hardest to stay silent. Inside the helmet though, her breathing is shallow, small cries coming out of her parted lips.
“Come on, pretty girl,” says Lando in a demanding yet soft tone. One of his hands clamps around her neck, guiding her into each thrust. “Give it to me. Let me feel you.”
Lando doesn’t slow down one bit, rolling his hips in a way that he knows it drives her wild. As a result, her body tenses, trembling as pleasure overtakes her. A choked gasp echoes inside the helmet, and Lando smirks, watching her unravel. He’s so utterly captivated by the way her walls tighten around him and the way her thighs quiver in his hands, as if she can crumble if he’s won’t be careful. It’s almost too much for him, but Lando manages to pull out just in time, watching as her release coats his throbbing length, as she shudders through the aftershocks.
“Yeah,” he breaths, running a hand up and down her thigh. “Such a good girl, baby. Let it all out.”
She slumps back against the table, panting inside the helmet, her body overly sensitive. Keeping his eyes on her, Lando gives himself a few slow strokes, exhaling hard through his nose; he’s so close it’s painful.
“You okay?” he asks her, his voice as hoarse as if he screamed for hours at a concert.
Slowly coming back to her senses, she exhales sharply, “I’m good,” she manages and, before she gets the chance to ask him the same question, Lando slaps her thigh in order to catch her attention.
“Down on your knees, then. Come on,” he rasps, guiding the girl to her knees, his patience wearing out quickly, as he tilts her chin up with two fingers.
The glow of the light catches on the sleek surface of the helmet, and something about it — about her like this, still catching her breath, still his — makes his stomach flip.
“God, look at you,” he breathes, his fingers tracing the edge of the visor as he grips the helmet gently. “Obedient little thing.”
She doesn’t speak — can’t, really — just watches him through the darkened shield, completely at his mercy.
Lando’s breathing stutters as he pumps himself faster, the tension coiling tight in his core. “Gonna make a mess of you, yeah?” he asks, mostly rhetorically. “Right there on my—”
He barely manages a breath before the orgasm crashes into him, blinding and all-consuming. His grip tightens, a sharp groan breaking free as heat pulses through him, spilling in thick streaks across the dark visor. Each of his breath is shaky, his mind fogged with pleasure and a sudden possessiveness.
She stays still, letting him ruin the helmet just like he ruined her, and the sight leaves him dizzy.
His fingers twitch as he pushes sweat-damp curls from his forehead, exhaling a laugh, wrecked and breathless. The sound of it fills the space, mixing with the muffled hum of voices just beyond the walls. But all Lando can hear is the quiet, pleased sigh that leaves her lips, her fingers scratching against her thighs, as if she wants to touch him, as if she wants to taste him.
His stomach clenches at the thought, the aftershocks leaving him lightheaded, wrecked in a way he’s never felt before. He exhales sharply, looking down at her, at his helmet, at what he’s done.
Then, Lando’s fingers are flexing against her head before he finally loosens his grip, running a slow thumb over the mess he’s made.
“Hell,” he pants, still catching his breath. Then, softer, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Might have to fuck you like this more often.”
She exhales a quiet, amused breath, tilting her head slightly. “Guess that means I’m actually keeping it.”
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