warnings: smut 18+, unprotected p in v, praise kink, possessiveness (slightly), sub!lando, softdom!reader
summary: lando won the championship surrounded by noise, praise, and flashing lights. but none of it touches him the way you do.
author’s note: hi there! this is my first piece of writing ever posting and of course i had to for lando’s championship win, if you read this i just wanna say thank you so much and hope you enjoy!
The hotel door clicked shut behind them, sealing off the hallway noise and leaving behind only the faint hum of the city still alive with celebration. The suite was dim, lit only by the soft strip of lights above the minibar, just enough to catch the tired but wicked grin on Lando’s face.
He leaned back against the door, still buzzing with champagne and victory. His voice came out low, rough from yelling over music and cheering crowds.
“You know,” he murmured, “I still don’t think it’s real. World Champion.”
He dragged a hand through his messy hair, laughing breathlessly. “Feels like I’m gonna wake up.”
You slipped off your heels, letting them land in a careless pile on the plush carpet.
“It’s real,” you said, stepping toward him. “And you were kind of unbearable about it all night.”
“Oh?” he asked, eyebrow lifting. “Unbearable?”
“Completely,” you teased, rolling your eyes and stopping just in front of him. “Everyone wanted a piece of you. Cameras, fans, sponsors… you were soaking it up.” You gave him a nudge on his shoulder and a small playful smile.
He didn’t deny it. He just let his gaze trail over you slowly, so slowly it made you shiver with anticipation, like he was replaying every moment that had led up to this night, this moment. Spending so much time apart that neither of you thought it would end.
Yet, here you both are. The waiting, the longing, it was all worth it to see Lando win his first ever Drivers’ World Championship.
You watched him blossom this season, not only as a driver but as a person. He was so level-headed and grounded throughout the season, despite all the set-backs. He truly conquered in this world, and now, you get to share it with him.
“But,” you added softly, tilting your head, “I figured you’d want to end the night with someone who actually knows you.”
His smile changed, less charming champion, more the man you saw grow this season. He pushed off the door and stepped closer, his fingers brushing your waist, barely there, like he was testing the boundary.
“I do,” he said, voice dropping. “I always do.”
Her breath hitched. His eyes flicked to your lips. He noticed, he always noticed.
“Careful,” you whispered, though you didn’t move away. “You’re still drunk on attention.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips hovered just above your skin, “but right now? I just want you. All of you.”
His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you into him as the months of tension finally snapped into something electric.
Outside, the city celebrated his championship.
Inside the hotel suite, the night was just getting started.
You felt his fingers press a little firmer into your lower back, guiding you closer until your chest brushed his. The contact sent a ripple through you, sharp and warm, like every unsaid feeling between you two suddenly had a pulse.
“You don’t get it,” Lando murmured, his eyes locked on yours. His thumb grazed your hip, slow enough to make your legs feel unsteady. “Tonight… all the noise, all the people, none of it felt real until I saw you standing there, waiting for me on the track.”
You swallowed. “You had everyone wrapped around your finger.”
“I didn’t care about any of them.” His voice cracked, just slightly, raw, unfiltered honesty slipping through the confident mask he'd worn all night. “I kept looking for you.”
You hadn’t expected that. Not from him. Not tonight. The admission hit you harder than any flirtation ever had.
He slid a hand up your back, fingertips tracing your spine through the thin fabric of your dress. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, brushing his nose against your cheek, his lips grazing just enough to make your breath catch.
“Then show me,” you whispered back, surprising even yourself with how you meant it.
He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you. Deep, hungry, like weeks of tension and tonight’s adrenaline had finally snapped and flooded straight into him. You melted into it, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him closer, pulling him down into you, kissing him like you needed him to breathe.
He groaned softly against your mouth, the sound low and rough, sending heat straight through you.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath uneven. “Tell me to slow down,” he rasped, thumb brushing your swollen lower lip. “Because if you don’t, I won’t.”
Your fingers slipped beneath his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath. “I don’t want you to slow down. I’ve waited for this, for you. I need you now more than ever.”
He exhaled like he’d been waiting to hear that answer from your lips for months.
In one smooth motion, he backed you toward the bed, his hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips like he’d dreamed of this exact moment. The backs of your legs hit the mattress, and he paused, just long enough to search your face, like he wanted to remember this moment forever.
“You’re so fucking beautiful” he whispered, voice shaking, from how badly he wanted you.
“You don’t know what you do to me baby” you rasped, with desperation for him and from the long night you had shared before.
Emotion flickered across his features—relief, desire, something deeper he was afraid to name. Then he kissed you again, even slower, even deeper, pouring every unspoken feeling into you as he lowered you onto the bed.
You lay back on the hotel bed, propped on your elbows, watching him with a slow, intentional smile that made his knees nearly buckle. Lando hovered in front of you, chest rising and falling, eyes dark and hungry in a way you had never really seen before tonight.
You knew once he won the championship, the sex would be amazing, because Lando knew every part of your body and where to touch you. This was different, you never really imagined it to be this intense.
He reached out, fingers brushing your thigh like he thought you might disappear, something shifted in his demeanor. “Please,” he whispered, barely a sound, more breath than voice. “Just… let me have you. Let me touch you.” His jaw clenched, his composure cracking. “I’ve wanted you so badly it hurts.”
The confession made your pulse flutter. “You’re usually so confident and in control” you teased softly. “Where’s that world champion energy now?”
A broken, helpless sound caught in his throat, half laugh, half whimper. He took another step closer, hands sliding up your legs with reverent desperation. “I don’t want to be confident,” he murmured, voice shaking. “Not with you. I just-” His breath hitched as you dragged your fingers through his hair, tugging gently. “God, don’t do that unless you want me to fall apart right here.”
You tugged again, slower this time. He actually gasped. A small, involuntary sound escaped him, raw and needy. He squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying to hold himself together.
“Look at me,” you whispered.
He obeyed instantly, pupils blown wide, lips parted, breath trembling. “There you are,” you said. “That’s the real you.”
His hands slid to your hips, gripping, almost trembling. “I need you,” he said, voice breaking completely now. “Please. Please.” The last word came out as a soft, desperate whimper that sent heat flooding through you.
You guided him closer with just a finger curled under his chin. “Tell me how much.”
“So much it’s pathetic,” he breathed, forehead pressing to your stomach as his shoulders shook with restraint. “I can’t think straight. I can’t breathe. I-” He looked up at you, ruined with want. “I’m begging you. Just say I can have you. Say it and I swear I’ll-” He cut himself off with another helpless sound, almost a moan.
You looked down at him and saw his bulging cock in his pants, restrained by his tight trousers, as he tried to get any friction he can. You almost felt bad looking at him and how desperate he was for you, but you wanted to let this control last. You had the world champion in the palm of your hand. Needy and full of desire for you.
You smiled, slow and wicked, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth and seeing the little beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You’re already falling apart for me and I haven’t even touched you baby.”
He nodded, not even pretending otherwise. “I am,” he whispered. “I am. And I’ll do anything you want… if you just let me.” The way he said it, pleading, reverent, trembling, made your whole body thrum.
You leaned down, lips grazing his ear. “Then take what you want,” kissing him softly on the cheek. Soft enough to send a shiver down Lando’s spine, making his whole body feel electric.
He whimpered again. Quiet, broken, beautiful and gave in completely.
Lando looked up at you, hands sliding up your thighs like he was worshipping, not touching. His breath hit your skin in uneven waves, his self-control unraveling with every second you didn’t pull him closer.
“Please…” His voice cracked on the word, raw and desperate. His fingers gripping the edge of the bed like he needed the support. “Tell me you want me.”
You brushed your fingers through his hair again, slow and teasing. He shuddered so visibly it almost broke you.
“I want you so fucking badly, it hurts,” you said, tipping his chin up. “Look at what you do to yourself over me.”
He obeyed, lifting his gaze, and the sight made your breath catch. His cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide, lips parted, chest heaving. He looked ruined. He looked yours. All of his control was melting away by the second, now that he knows there’s no need to keep his guard up. The season was over and he can let the racing side of himself go for now.
“Please,” he rasped. His voice cracked. “Please… I need you. I’ve been good, I’m a champion, I deserve it. Please use me.”
You slid your hand into his dampening curls, brushing through his hair until he gasped. “Look at the champion now, so needy for me. You’ll take what I give you. Understand?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I understand.”
You tugged his head back gently, making him arch his throat up to you. His pulse thudded under your thumb where you held him, his lips parted, breath shaking. “Open.”
His mouth fell open at once, eyes glassy with need. You traced his lower lip with your thumb, smearing the sweat at the corner of his mouth. “Good boy,” you murmured, the praise making his thighs clench. “My championship winning boy.”
You stood in front of him and pulled down your dress so slowly, deliberately, letting him see your nipples perk at the cold air hitting them, down to the wet heat between your thighs. You knew not to wear underwear tonight, so you can tease him like this. His pupils blew wide. “You want this?” you asked, voice low and sure. Your fingers sliding down from your chest all the way down to your core, teasing Lando and showing him how wet you are.
“Yes,” he whispered, desperate now. “God, yes.”
“Be a good boy and show me.”
Lando leaned forward eagerly, lips parting wider. You sat back down on the bed and guided him in, the heat of his mouth working over you, slinging one of your legs over his shoulder, the slickness of his tongue tracing every inch. He groaned, the sound vibrating against you, and you tightened your hand in his curls, holding him exactly where you wanted him.
“That’s it,” you moaned, rolling your hips forward just enough to make him choke on a gasp of your scent. “Show me you’re mine.”
He moaned, muffled against you, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he fought to please you, to be perfect. You let him up only when you felt his body tremble with effort, your other hand sliding down to his chest, making him shudder at your touch.
“Look at me,” you ordered.
He did, eyes shining, lips wet and swollen.
“You’re mine right now,” you said, voice rough. “Mine to use. Mine to ruin.“
“God,” he choked out. “Please… please let me inside of you. I need it.”
Your smile turned sharp. “Not yet.”
You guided him up and onto the bed, placing your hand in his. He’s breathless with desire and watching you, his eyes brimming with small tears, unsure of what you’re planning on doing next.
“Lay down,” you murmured.
He nodded and obeyed, laying down on the bed behind him. His hands tightened on the sheets like he was fighting the urge to pull you onto him into his arms.
“I’ll stay right here,” he promised. “For as long as you want. Just please, let me touch you. Let me make you feel good. I’ve been dreaming about it, I’ve… God, I’ve ached for it.”
Your thumb brushed his lower lip. His breath hitched. He leaned into your touch like it was oxygen. You gently kissed him, feeling him tense underneath your touch, holding himself back from bringing you in further.
“I love you like this Lando. You’re truly mine, you’re such a good boy,” you brushed your thumb over his cheek. He looked like an absolute wreck, tears prickling his lashes and his cheeks flushed a soft pink.
You kissed him down from his cheek, to his jaw, leaving sloppier kisses the further you went down his body. Your tongue trailed down his chest until you reached the band of his boxers. He shuddered under your touch, knowing how close you were to what he wanted.
“Please,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “I need more, I want to feel your mouth on me. Just- don’t stop touching me.” His voice wavered and he looked up at you at the edge of the bed, full of pure, addictive devotion.
You slipped your hand into the front of his boxers, pulling them down, making his cock spring out from the restraint they were causing. Your fingers wrapping around him, hot and hard. His head dropped back, a strangled moan leaving his throat. You stroked him slow at first, then faster, your thumb circling the head, leaking precum. You sank to your knees so you were face to face with his cock, and looked up at him with anticipation.
“Make me come, please I- I’ve earned it,” Lando whispered followed by a broken moan.
You smiled up at him before wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock, slowly bobbing up and down, never breaking eye-contact with him. He looked at you, eyes glassy with need and desire. He’s never wanted you more than right at this moment. You felt him trembling underneath your touch and knew he was close, but you didn’t want this to end. Not yet.
You wanted to celebrate your champion right.
You took your mouth off his cock and climbed on top of him. Grabbing his wrists to pin on either side of him.
“Let me make you feel good, you deserve this,” you told Lando breathlessly. Kissing him gently, you reached for his shirt and started to unbutton, leaving him shirtless and feeling the heat radiating off of his body.
The moment you sank onto his cock, something primal flickered across Lando’s face, a mix of awe and hunger and the kind of need he’d never dared show anyone.
His hands slid up your sides, then down again, slow and purposeful, mapping every curve like he was memorizing her by touch alone.
You sat there for a moment, letting yourself relax around him, then started to slowly grind your hips on him. You let out a gasp and grabbed Lando’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
“Oh my god- you feel so- fuck,” you screamed out, as you picked up the pace. Hitting every single sweet spot inside of you. He made you feel so good, no one could ever make you feel this way.
He choked out a quiet, broken groan, his fingers digging into your waist.
“Please…” he whispered, forehead dropping to your shoulder as if he needed something to hold onto. “Fuck—if you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to last.”
That sent you over the edge. You rocked your hips faster, sloppier knowing that both you and Lando were close to your climax. Lando shuddered violently, letting out another helpless sound, half moan, half gasp as he crushed you closer against him. Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling just enough to make him gasp, and then you felt yourself shudder, release tearing through you.
You both sat there for a moment, breathing in each other’s air. Neither of you wanting to break the silence or move away from each other.
The room was still, the kind of stillness that only came after everything else had burned itself out. The city lights spilled through the hotel windows in soft streaks, painting gold across tangled sheets and bare skin.
Lando laid on his back, one arm draped loosely around you, his breathing finally slowing. For the first time that night. maybe for the first time all weekend, there was no noise. No crowd. No music. No cameras. Just your weight against his chest.
You traced slow, absent patterns over his skin, listening to his heartbeat gradually steady beneath your ear. It was strong. Real. Human. Not the invincible thing everyone else thought it was.
He swallowed hard. “You know, I cried a lot today,” he let out a small laugh. “When they told me I had won over the radio,” he said, softer this time, voice rough in a way that had nothing to do with desire anymore. “When I was on the podium, even when I saw my parents.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him.
“But right now?” His breath shuddered. “I feel like if I move, I might truly fall apart. I haven’t felt like this today or ever.”
You slid your hand up to his jaw, thumb brushing gently where tension still lingered. “You don’t have to hold it together with me.”
His chest hitched, sharp and sudden. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face into your hair like he could hide there. His grip tightened—not possessive, just needy.
“I worked my whole life for this,” he whispered. “Every sacrifice. Every missed holiday. Every time I told myself next year will be easier.” His voice cracked. “And now it’s over. All my work was worth it. I did it. And I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be tomorrow.”
You kissed his shoulder, slow and grounding. “You’re still you.”
He let out a shaky laugh that sounded dangerously close to a sob. “Everyone keeps calling me a champion like it explains everything.” His forehead rested against yours. His eyes were watery now, unguarded.
“But lying here with you?” he said softly. “This is the first moment it actually feels real.”
You brushed away a tear he didn’t even realize had escaped.
“You can just be the man who finally let himself breathe,” you murmured.
His breath trembled again, but this time it eased instead of breaking. He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple, gentle, reverent, nothing like the hunger from before.
“Promise me you’ll always be here, please,” he said quietly. Not a request. A truth.
You smiled, settling back and placing a small kiss against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Outside, the city still celebrated his victory.
Inside the hotel room, wrapped in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the championship finally landed, not as pressure, but as peace.
And for the first time since he’d crossed the finish line, he felt like he could finally breathe.
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