Just come back to me
● Lando Norris x Top! Cowboy reader
● unprotected sex, overstimulation, porn with plot, choking, praise, petnames, rimming, rough sex, fluff? Requested
● word count: 5.176 words
Lando found himself lingering longer than he expected. And now he’s stuck figuring out his feelings on the way back.
■ If you haven't read part 1: Save gas, ride me!
You handed off the reins to another cowboy—some burly guy with a hat pulled low and strolled back toward the porch. You leaned against the wooden rail, arms crossing loosely on the rail as you watched Lando soak up the sunlight. The golden rays painted Lando in warmth, highlighting his features in a way that made you pause for a second… appreciating how relaxed he looked. You didn’t interrupt at first—just asked casually. "Comfy?" Voice quiet to match the calm morning. A hint of fondness.
Lando nodded, eyes still half-lidded from the peaceful sunbathing. He wasn’t in any hurry to leave… not yet. The ranch had a calming vibe—so different from city life or hotel rooms. The quiet, the animals, your presence nearby… It all feels good. A small smile played on his lips as he finally spoke.
"Yeah… really comfy." No rush to mention heading back—he could stay like this awhile longer.
You pushed off the rail and straightened, brushing hay dust from your jeans. The faint smile on your lips betrayed how much he genuinely wanted Lando to come with you.
"Gonna run into town for supplies—" you said "If you wanna…tag along" The offer hung there: if Lando wanted to see more of the area—and spend time together outside the ranch—now was his chance.
Lando’s face lit up instantly—eyes brightening with genuine excitement. The idea of exploring more of your world, even just the nearby town, thrilled him. He didn’t hesitate before answering "Hell yeah—I’ll come!" The enthusiasm slipped out naturally.
Lando showered quickly—washing off the night’s remnants before drying his curls. He dressed in your borrowed clothes: a soft, slightly oversized shirt and well-worn denim that fit loosely around his hips. Downstairs, he found you sitting on the couch with your dog—a big, lazy Australian Shepherd sprawled across your lap. The dog thumped its tail happily as Lando approached… immediately wiggling for pets. You scratched behind the pup’s ears while waiting for Lando to join you by the door.
The truck rolled into town—a cozy little market area buzzing with local life. Women called out from stalls selling fresh-cut meat and baskets of homegrown vegetables, the aroma rich in the air. You lead him through slowly before turning toward a smaller shop at the end: Pet & Ranch Supplies. The sign above it jingled as you pushed the door open, bell announcing their arrival. Aisle after aisle was stocked with cattle feed, hoof oils, and other farming essentials—you knew exactly what you needed.
Lando’s eyes darted around the old shop, taking in all the new sights—rows of leather tack, horse shampoo bottles stacked high, and sacks of grain labeled with feed instructions. Everywhere he looked were signs of cowboy life… a world he rarely interacted with. A few actual ranch hands passed by—tall guys in hats nodding at yoy—but none paid Lando much mind. He felt like an outsider here… curious but out of his element. The scent of hay and animal products hung heavy in the air.
You adjusted the heavy sack of ranch supplies on your shoulder—no rush, since you’d already bought everything needed for your horses. Then you spotted the cinnamon roll vendor down the street: an old wooden cart with a warm glow from its oven. The scent was irresistible—spiced sugar and buttery dough. You nudged Lando’s arm lightly, pointing at it with genuine enthusiasm.
"Best ones in town." You said proudly. "Wanna try one? They’re huge." The vendor—a round-cheeked woman—already waved them over like regulars.
The cinnamon rolls looked perfect—golden-brown, glistening with a sugary glaze. The vendor clearly used high-quality ingredients, probably sourced locally like everything else in this town. Lando’s cheeks warmed as he watched you already pull out your wallet without hesitation—like it was the most natural thing to buy him something. The gesture felt… date-like? Intimate? Not that either of them had labeled anything yet.
The woman smiled kindly as she handed over two huge pieces of pastry wrapped in wax papers.
Lando took the warm wax-paper bundle from your hand, his fingers brushing slightly against the cowboy’s calloused ones. The first bite was heaven—rich cinnamon, fluffy dough, and that unmistakable taste of homegrown quality. The flavors were so pure… no artificial anything. Just real butter, local honey maybe? It melted on his tongue. You watched him enjoy it with quiet satisfaction—happy to see Lando appreciating a classic small-town treat for what it was.
The market bustled around them—vendors calling out, shoppers browsing—but you kept your gaze mostly on Lando as they walked. Your arms brushed occasionally… an almost touch that sent little sparks through you. You wanted to hold his hand. Badly. The simple intimacy of it—the casual public display—felt natural after last night. But you didn’t initiate it yet… just let the near-misses linger, hoping maybe Lando would reach for you first.
“Y’know…sightseeing is quite common for visitors when they visit rural Nevada” you gestured vaguely toward the rest of the town—stores with hand-painted signs, a little library tucked between buildings, even an old saloon that had been converted into a café. All classic sights for tourists. You didn’t outright invite Lando to explore more… but your body language did—shoulders relaxed, eyes scanning the streets like you were ready to show him around if asked. A silent offer: Want me to take you places? Just say yes.
Lando studied your expression for a beat—reading the unspoken invitation. Why not go exploring with you? It’d be fun… and who knew how much more of this charming little town he could see? So, without overthinking it, Lando nodded.
"Yeah… I'd like to look around more." A simple agreement—but it meant you got to play tour guide now, showing off your favorite spots in their quiet Nevada town.
Back home, you led two horses from the barn—your personal black stallion: massive, muscular, and clearly well-trained trotting beside you, named Miller. The other was a light brown mare with warm eyes, she’d be Lando’s ride, named Chestnut.
You handed the reins to Lando carefully before asking "Ever ridden a horse?" Your tone wasn’t judging… just curious. Most city folks hadn’t. The animals stood calmly, used to humans—but still powerful under their hooves.
Lando’s gaze lingered on the mare—her coat shone like polished wood in the sunlight, and her gentle expression put him at ease. He reached out slowly… letting his fingertips brush that soft fur. “No…not really” he answered. Chestnut didn’t flinch, just huffed quietly through her nose, sniffing Lando’s scent with mild curiosity.
You watched fondly before introducing "Her name's Chestnut. She's real calm—great for beginners." A reassurance that this horse wouldn’t bolt or spook easily.
“She’s pretty.” Lando commented, feeling the smooth fur. You must have put a lot of time into taking care of them.
You stepped behind Lando, your hands firm but gentle as you guided him onto Chestnut’s back. With a steadying touch on his shoulders, you helped adjust the reins and balance—making sure Lando felt secure. The careful assistance eased any nervousness in him… Chestnut stood patiently beneath them, unfazed by the new rider settling in above her.
You hop on your black stallion effortlessly—muscles tensing as you settle into the saddle. Then, without a word, you reached over and took Chestnut’s lead rope in your free hand… just in case. The protective gesture wasn’t controlling—just cautious. If Lando got unsure or nervous mid-ride, you could gently guide them both safely.
Lando noticed this small act of care… and it made him feel warm inside. No one had ever looked out for him like that.
The horses ambled through open fields first—wildflowers swaying in the breeze, tall grass brushing against their legs. The air was crisp with freedom… no sounds except hooves and birds. Then they climbed a gentle slope toward foothills, where rocky outcrops peeked through pine trees. The forest grew denser ahead—dappled sunlight filtering through leaves. You rode confidently beside Lando, occasionally glancing over to make sure he was okay on Chestnut
You two have reached the pond. The pond was stunning—crystal-clear blue water reflecting the sky perfectly. Rocks formed a natural edge, and trees arched over it like guardians, their leaves dancing in the breeze.
You got down first, then circled around to help Lando down from Chestnut. Your hands steadied him as his boots hit solid ground… making sure he didn’t lose balance after half an hour on the saddle. It really was a local spot—used for cooling off and relaxing after long rides. A peaceful escape.
“This is my secret spot. Only a few locals know, since the entrance was hidden...surrounded by a bunch of trees” you said.
Lando stared at the pond—its water looked so inviting, especially after the hot ride. He turned to you with a hopeful glint in his eye.
"Think we can swim?" he asked, already eyeing how shallow it got near the shore… perfect for wading in first. The idea of cooling off—maybe even floating together under that open sky—sounded heavenly right now.
“I don’t see why not” your faint smile deepened as Lando kicked off his boots and began unbuttoning his shirt—no rush, just relaxed. The sun was warm here, swimming would feel amazing. You kept an eye on Lando out of habit…
The pond’s surface rippled slightly from a breeze—inviting, pristine blue waiting for them. Lando swam to the center and climbed onto the large flat rock in the heart of the pond—its surface warm from sun exposure. He stretched out like a cat, basking in golden rays while his skin dried off.
Meanwhile, you floated lazily on his back near shore… letting cool water lap around you as you relaxed. Clothes piled up on Miller’s back as the horse stood still and waited.
You swim toward the rock, water dripping off your torso as you approach. You smirked up at Lando—playfully roasting him.
"Sunbathing? Aren’t you already a burnt toast?” you teased, voice laced with amusement. Then you reached out to flick a little pond water at Lando’s leg—just to mess with him further.
Lando rolled his eyes dramatically at your teasing—clearly unbothered. The combo of cool water and soft sun was perfect, and he wasn’t about to move just because the cowboy called him a burnt toast.
He shot back lazily "I like being burnt to crips… deal with it." A small, stubborn smirk played on his lips as he stretched out even more—owning the rock like it was his throne.
Your calloused hands settled gently on Lando’s thighs—your touch warm and reverent. The way Lando lounged there, all relaxed and sun-kissed, did something to your chest… a quiet swell of affection. This pond was your secret place—rarely shared with anyone. But seeing Lando here like this? It felt right. Like the spot had been waiting for him.
You didn’t say it aloud… but in your eyes: You’re beautiful here, Lando.
Lando’s grin was soft—almost feline in its laziness—and he tilted his face up slightly, an open invitation.The words slipped out effortlessly: "Gimme a kiss." No demands, just quiet warmth… the kind that made you want to close the distance without hesitation. The pond water glistened around you, nature itself seemed to pause for this moment.
And you didn’t hesitate—you hummed low in your throat, a soft sound of agreement, before closing the small distance between them. Your lips met Lando’s gently… warm and lingering.
The kiss was tender—not rushed or heated like last night’s passion, but sweet. The kind shared under golden sunlight by water that shimmered around them.
For you? Being this close to Lando was everything right now. Everything.
After breaking the kiss, you pressed a trail of light pecks along Lando’s jaw—each one feather-soft—then down to his neck. His stubble brushed against your lips when you kissed his chin and then you worked your way lower. Showering him with your quiet affection. Finally, you nuzzled on Lando’s thigh… resting there like an oversized bear seeking comfort.
The pond stayed silent around them, even nature seemed to respect this quiet moment between two people who clearly enjoyed each other’s company.
Your hand moved in slow, rhythmic strokes up and down Lando’s thigh—your touch absentminded but soothing. Meanwhile, your chin stayed comfortably nestled against the other thigh… like a bear curled up in its favorite spot. Lando’s fingers carded gently through your sun-kissed brown hair—soft curls slipping between his fingertips. The cowboy exhaled contentedly at the touch.
A peaceful quiet settled as Lando spoke
"Your hair feels nice." Simple praise… genuine. Sweet.
The deep hum that rumbled through your chest was so.content—like a giant, drowsy cat getting head scratches. Your eyes drifted shut, lashes brushing against your sun-warmed cheeks as Lando’s fingers worked through your hair. Every stroke sent little sparks of comfort down your spine. No words needed… just pure bliss in being pampered like this under the open sky.
Eventually, you peeled yourself off Lando with a lazy stretch—your back muscles flexing visibly under sun-kissed skin as you stood. The water called again. You waded back into the pond, diving in smoothly this time. Each powerful stroke through the clear blue sent ripples outward… your strong shoulders cutting through effortlessly.
Meanwhile, Lando stayed on his rock—still soaking up rays like a lizard, perfectly happy just watching you swim from afar.
You surfaced with a wide grin, holding up the wriggling fish you'd just caught bare-handed. Water dripped from your arms as you yelled
"Lando!" You called out, voice bright with playful pride. The fish—likely your bull riding trophies—glistened in the sunlight. You are clearly excited to show off your little catch after swimming around for fun.
Lando’s grin widened—equal parts amused and charmed by your ridiculous, bear-like enthusiasm. The cowboy looked stupidly proud holding that fish like it was a championship trophy. The sight of you—big, strong, and usually so composed—acting this goofy over catching something with your hands? Adorable. Lando chuckled softly… fully enjoying the silly moment.
The fish landed with a wet plop on the shore after you threw it, still flopping wildly. Chestnut jumped slightly at the sudden movement, her ears flicking forward in alert.
Curious (and maybe a little hungry), she took cautious steps toward the thrashing fish… sniffing it intently. Her nose wrinkled at the strong smell of raw catch—but she didn’t bolt or spook. You watched, grinning… wondering if your good little girl would actually eat it or just investigate.
The ranch house smelled like fresh herbs and simmering food once y’all returned home. Both showered to rinse off the pond water and sweat. Then you worked at the stove, stirring a pot with ingredients plucked straight from your little garden: ripe tomatoes, basil, maybe some garlic. Lando sat lazily on the kitchen counter nearby… legs swinging slightly as he watched you cook. The cowboy moved with quiet efficiency—no fancy techniques, just honest country cooking. There are a couple of cookbooks on your shelf next to a bunch of seasonings. Living alone has taught you to season your own life with different recipes from around the world, sharp eyed when buying decorative items for the house to look less lonely.
You keep stirring the vodka pasta—creamy sauce with a subtle kick. While Lando sprawled across the counter like a sunbathing cat—taking up plenty of space right where you needed to move around. Pots, pans, and ingredients were within arm’s reach… but you didn’t budge. You could’ve grumbled about it… but you didn’t. Instead, you just sidestepped Lando carefully—navigating around his lanky form with practiced patience. The cowboy even reached over him once to grab a spice from the shelf above—their shoulders brushing as Lando stayed put.
The orange tabby—one of your many strays—padded into the kitchen with a loud meow to announce itself, hopping onto the counter like it owned the place. Without hesitation, it plopped down right next to Lando… effectively doubling the space occupied. Now there were two beings hogging your cooking area: one contented human and one very smug cat. The orange devil licked its paw, completely unbothered by being in the way. You exhaled through your nose… but honestly? You found it ridiculous in a weirdly endearing way.
The weight of years spent lonely—working the ranch, no one to share meals with, no one who stayed—pressed against your chest. But now? Now you had Lando sprawled on your counter… and a cat hogging space beside him.
Annoying? Maybe. But it wasn’t irritation that flickered through you—it was warmth. The kind that came from being wanted around. Needed for small things like sharing food or having someone lounge near you while you cooked. A quiet happiness settled in your ribs.
Being loved wasn’t about grand gestures or declarations. It was this. Lando taking up space in your kitchen, yapping your ears off about F1, the chubby orange monster demanding attention… It meant they wanted to be near you. That simple presence—the lazy way they existed around you—was love. Not possessive, not performative… just being included in someone’s day-to-day. A lump formed in your throat. You hadn’t felt this… wanted… in a long time.
You set the plates down—steaming vodka pasta for yourself and Lando, while the cat happily gnawed on scraps of fried fish. The dog sprawled nearby, belly full after being fed earlier. Then came the lemonade: freshly squeezed with ice clinking in tall glasses. You poured it carefully… extra effort put into making sure Lando had a proper meal here. The whole scene screamed “I want you to stay” Not said aloud… just shown through every detail—the food, drinks, even sharing space with your animals like they were family too.
For someone who runs a ranch and rides bulls for a living, completely by yourself…you sure yearn a lot for this kind of domestic lifestyle.
After lunch, you cleaned up without making a fuss—washing plates, wiping counters, putting leftovers away. The clink of dishes was soft… peaceful.
Lando claimed the cozy spot by the window—your usual reading nook. A window seat you have built yourself, with sunlight pooling over it through the glass. Perfect for holding a book or just zoning out in quiet comfort. The warmth of the sun spilled across Lando as he relaxed… no pressure to do anything but exist here.
Lando’s phone buzzed—Oscar’s message flashing on the screen. The time check made his chest tighten: 3pm. Their flight back to Monaco left soon… meaning Lando had to go in a few hours. He looked up at you, expression tinged with reluctance as he broke the news.
"I gotta head back by three… flight home." The quiet regret hung between them—the peaceful heaven they’d slipped into couldn’t last forever.
You hummed, your jaw tightening just slightly—not with panic, but with quiet determination. If Lando had to leave by 3pm… they’d use every second left wisely.
“Gotta make every last second counts then”
You closed the distance without hesitation—one hand cradling Lando’s jaw as your lips crashed onto his. The kiss was hungry, desperate… like you could pour all the unspoken “Please stay” into it. A kiss that tasted of goodbye… and a plea for more time.
Lando’s arms slid around your neck, fingers instinctively threading through the soft curls at your nape—those sun-kissed strands Lando had come to adore. So much. He kissed back just as fiercely, pouring every bit of affection into it… the way their bodies pressed together warm and familiar.
The ranch outside was quiet, only the rustle of wind through trees accompanied them as they clung to each other like this moment could stretch forever.
You broke the kiss just enough to gasp for air—chest rising and falling—but before you could even catch your breath fully, Lando was already yanking his own shirt off. The fabric hit the floor. No hesitation. Just two people who knew exactly where this was going… and zero patience left. Your eyes darkened, staring at Lando’s bare torso now exposed in golden sunlight—before diving right back in to reclaim that mouth.
Your hands roamed Lando’s body with a quiet urgency—each touch desperate, almost pleading. Not possessive… just needy. Like your fingertips were memorizing the feel of him, trying to imprint this moment so it wouldn’t fade when Lando left. Every graze of skin against skin screamed what you couldn’t say aloud: Don’t go yet. Stay longer. Just a little more. The air between them thickened—charged with unspoken longing.
Lando’s fingers worked fast—popping open your buttons one by one with practiced ease. The flannel slid off your shoulders, revealing the toned chest underneath… all sun-kissed skin and faint ranch-callouses. The shirt pooled on the floor beside Lando’s own discarded clothes.
Lando’s breathy pleases slipped out between kisses—soft, urgent whimpers that made your pulse spike. His hands grew impatient, nudging at the remaining fabric… silently begging for clothes to disappear. You didn’t need telling twice—your own fingers fumbled with belts and zippers next, stripping them both down efficiently.Their skin finally met properly—warm and seeking.
“Hurry…” Lando whined.
You sank to your knees on the wooden floor—calloused hands gliding up Lando’s thighs, pushing them gently apart as you pressed open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of his inner leg. The touches were slow… deliberate. Each kiss trailed higher, leaving warmth in its wake—teasing but purposeful. The sunlit window cast gold over his body. A quiet devotion in every movement.
Your tongue traced a slow, deliberate circle—right where Lando ached most. The wet heat of your mouth contrasted with the cool air still lingering in the room, sending a jolt through him. The soft gasp that escaped Lando’s lips made you hum against his skin… pleased. You didn’t rush—just kept working with patient swirls and light suction, teasing but thorough.
Your saliva slicked the area—natural, warm lubrication—before you gently pressed your tongue inside, not forceful but curious. Exploring with careful strokes… learning what made Lando’s breath hitch. A slow dance of your tongue testing, adjusting pressure based on every tiny reaction above him.
Lando’s head tipped back against the window seat, exposing his throat as a quiet moan slipped free. The sensation of your tongue—warm, skilled—sent shivers up his spine. His fingers tangled loosely in your hair… not guiding, just holding. A silent “don’t stop”. Every flick and curl drew another soft gasp from him.
The sunlight framed them like a painting—one giving pleasure with single-minded focus, the other melting under it.
Lando’s hands found your shoulders, urging you up with quiet urgency. The cowboy rose smoothly, lips parting from Lando to meet his mouth again in a searing kiss as he stood. Clothes were long forgotten, skin burned where it touched.
You peeled off your own boxers in one swift motion, letting them drop to the floor. Your hand—still glistening from saliva—wrapped around yourself, stroking slowly as you got fully hard at the sight of needy Lando, all spread out.
Lando’s whiny, demanding voice cut through the air—no patience left. He grabbed your wrist, tugging you closer with a needy glare that screamed enough waiting.
“Hurry up and wreck me before I have to go–” The tone was bratty but undeniably hot—the kind of plea you couldn’t resist. A flush crept up your neck as you stepped into Lando’s space again… all hesitation gone.
You line yourself up carefully, the tip pressing against Lando’s entrance. With a slow, controlled exhale—you pushed in… inch by inch. A quiet groan escaped your lips at the sensation—overwhelming even for someone usually so composed.
Lando didn’t care about the half assed prep—impatient, he hooked his legs around your torso instead, pulling you closer. His palm slid down the cowboy’s meaty abs… tracing those neatly trimmed happy trails. A hand bracing himself on the window seat cushion, a hand mapping out the cowboy.
You set a rhythm—slow at first, pulling back almost completely before pushing in again. The glide of it felt good, that deep connection sparking pleasure through both their bodies. Each one drew a soft noise from Lando—whether a sigh or breathless hum—and you paid attention to those sounds, adjusting subtly.
Lando’s hand cradled the side of your neck, fingers holding firmly on sensitive skin as their mouths found each other again—messy, open-mouthed kisses between every thrust.
The angle shifted with each movement, you adjusted instinctively to hit deeper spots without breaking contact. Skin tangled together from sweat and shared breath.
You felt Lando relax into you—tension melting away—and that’s when your hips snapped forward with rougher intent, chasing pleasure. Each thrust gained more force, driven by the heat coiling low in your gut. Lando’s fingers tightened just slightly at your neck—not cutting off air completely… but applying just enough pressure to heighten everything. A thrill ran through them both at the edge of it. The room filled with ragged breathing and creaking wood from their movements.
Your smirk was subtle—more a curl of your lips than anything—before your movements turned filthier, more animalistic. The slap of skin on skin echoed through the kitchen, raw and unapologetically sexual. Pure heat. Sweat-slick bodies meeting with each desperate thrust, breaths heavy and mouths slightly parted. A mess in the best way. The ranch outside stayed quiet—oblivious to this chaos inside.
Each rough thrust wrenched a needy moan from Lando—his body instinctively clenching around you, milking you with every pulse of pleasure. The tight grip was maddening in the best way. Your jaw clenched, your own breath turning uneven as that relentless pressure built. Every drag sent sparks through you… and you couldn’t hold back the low groans escaping now either. Both feeding off each other’s reactions.
You two crashed your lips together again, kissing Lando deeply as your hips kept up the rough pace—each snap of them sending jolts through Lando’s body. The intensity was relentless. So good that Lando’s toes curled, overwhelmed by sensation. Every nerve lit up, he couldn’t think, just feel. You weren't holding back anymore.
Lando’s nails raked down your back—sharp, possessive lines blooming red across your skin. The sting only fueled you further.
Meanwhile, you bit harder into Lando’s neck—a claiming mark in the making—as your cock pounded relentlessly into that aching hole. Every brutal thrust was deliberate… a rhythm meant to wreck them both.
Lando squeezes his eyes shut—not in pain, but from the sheer intensity of pleasure crashing through him. Every deep thrust from you was overwhelmingly present… a thick, heavy sensation that left his breath uneven. The frown wasn’t discomfort—it was pure sensory overload. Like his body couldn’t process how good it felt without looking slightly pained by it. You noticed instantly—the way Lando bit his lip to stifle sounds—but didn't slow down.
Lando’s voice was wrecked—hoarse from moans and panting, each syllable coming out uneven. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin under the kitchen light… chest rising and falling fast. The mix of exertion and pleasure had him utterly disheveled. A beautiful kind of ruined.
Lando tensed abruptly—his body betraying his desire to last longer. With a sharp gasp, he came untouched… stripes of warmth splattering across his own stomach. The climax hit fast and unexpected, leaving him shuddering through the aftershocks. His face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and oversensitivity—but it felt too good to regret.
Your smirk was downright smug—a filthy, knowing curl of your lips that screamed “I made you fall apart”. The look alone amplified Lando’s sheepishness tenfold.
The cowboy didn’t tease aloud… but that expression said everything. A silent “pathetic how quick you came. I didn’t even touch your poor cock” without a single word needed. A cruel, hot thing to witness post-orgasm sensitivity.
You didn’t slow down—not even for a second. Your hips kept their relentless rhythm, driving into Lando with the same rough intensity, completely undeterred by his climax. The movement jostled Lando’s oversensitive body… every snap of your hips sending shockwaves through him. No mercy—just pure persistence to chase your own release now.
Lando’s fingers dug into your shoulders—hard enough to leave bruises later. Every breathless moan that escaped him was ragged, punched out by the sheer force of your thrusts. The overstimulation was dizzying… but Lando held on anyway, clinging like he couldn’t bear to let go even if it burned.
“Look at the mess you have made, darling” your voice was low and smug, your fingers deliberately pressing into Lando’s oversensitive lower stomach—right where the mess of his own cum glistened. You swirled a fingertip through it teasingly. The touch was light but maddening—especially after just coming. A cruel little reminder of how easily he’d fallen apart. A smirk played on your lips… enjoying this way too much.
Lando’s face burned crimson—both from the teasing and how sensitive his body still was. He shot you a weak glare, voice thick with flustered frustration: "Shut up–!" A weak comeback… but delivered with so much pouty annoyance that it lost all bite. The way his lips trembled slightly gave away how affected he really was.
Your chuckle was low, amused—then your hips snapped forward again without hesitation. No letup, no gentleness… just relentless pounding. The kitchen echoed with the sound of skin meeting skin. Lando could do nothing but take it—oversensitive and squirming beneath you. Your endurance seemed infinite compared to Lando’s spent state. A delicious kind of torture for both of you.
Your climax hit hard—body locking up for a split second before you emptied yourself deep inside Lando. But even as pleasure pulsed through you, you didn’t stop entirely. Instead, your hips kept moving—shallow thrusts to ensure not a single drop was wasted. The kitchen air thickened with the aftermath—heavy breathing and sweat-slick skin.
Lando exhaled a shaky groan—his body still trembling with oversensitivity as he felt the warmth pooling inside him. Full. Claimed. Your weight settled over him slightly, both of them catching their breath in the quiet aftermath. No words… just shared exhaustion and the slow cooling of sweat-damp skin.
You tilted forward, pressing your lips gently against Lando’s in a tender kiss. No urgency now—just softness. The kind of kiss that lingered… lazy and sweet. Their mouths moved together slowly, still breathing each other in after the intensity they’d shared moments ago. Lando buried his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent—warm hay and faint earthy. His arms stayed loosely wrapped around you, unwilling to break apart just yet.
Maybe somewhere in the back of his skull, there’s still a silhouette of a mighty cowboy he’s unsure of whether he should come back to Nevada or accept the fate that you and him were never meant to be close. He sits next to Oscar in the airplane back to Monaco, surprisingly quiet. He hasn’t told Oscar about what has happened that made him look oddly sulk. Just staring down at Nevada’s landfill. Wondering if this ever means anything to you. Wondering if you feel the same way as he’s feeling right now. Or you will just move on, and find someone else who can share the same pace of life.
To be loved is to be seen, and Lando Norris? has never felt so seen before.
