#and it will all be obsessive and sad and beautiful

[trashytracktales]

girl hi hi hi hi i am in love with your writing 😩😩

as someone who’s terrified by getting her driver license can i request boyfriend Lando giving you driving lessons and you know, good old soft dom lando giving you INSTRUCTIONS and praising you !! You know what i mean? 🥹🥹

and ofc throwing in a lil nice smut won’t be bad idk

Maybe this way i’ll feel inspired to finally get my license

(gorgeous gorgeous girls are obsessed with cars but scared to drive 🤩)

ily T!!

Fast learner | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── First of all, you got this, babe!! Getting your license can be scary, I remember being absolutely terrified. It definitely takes time and determination, but you can do it, I promise 🤞🏻 Also, so sorry it took me AGES, but I am struggling to finish my works lately *sad sounds idk*. I hope I did this one justice though. Fingers crossed and let me know when you get that license, queen. Enjoy 🤍✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ summary ──── Lando surprises his girlfriend with a gift she can’t say no to. Despite her fear, his guidance helps her gain confidence behind the wheel. But back home, the lessons continue in a much more intimate way, as Lando makes sure she knows just how good she is at following his instructions, both on and off the track.

. ݁₊ ⊹ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ rating ──── explicit

. ݁₊ ⊹ category ──── F/M

. ݁₊ ⊹ warnings ──── 18+, driving anxiety, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, sexual metaphors & euphemisms, light choking, soft dom!Lando.

. ݁₊ ⊹ word count ──── 5.6k

. ݁₊ ⊹ date ──── Feb. 28, 2025

WHEN SHE OPENS her eyes, the first thing she notices is that his familiar heat is pressing on her from every direction. With Lando’s arm resting like a sluggish weight around her waist and his fingertips brushing the exposed flesh beneath the hem of his hoodie, which she had stolen before bed, she feels secure in the warmth they’ve created.

His nose is buried in the crook of her neck, and the second thing she notices is the quiet, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her back, his steady breathing blending with the morning silence, and the delicate, smooth kisses he’s planting on her skin.

The girl shifts slightly, only for him to tighten his grip, pulling her closer; she smiles, understanding he is already awake.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asks Lando, his voice languid.

Her body is melting back into his embrace, Lando’s slightly aggressive curiosity making her giggle. “Nowhere.”

“Good,” he presses a tender kiss to her shoulder, then another, trailing his lips back up the curve of her neck. “Because it’s your birthday, and I get to hold you for as long as I want.”

She smiles again, her heart swelling at the way he always makes her feel like she is most important thing in the world.

“That’s exactly what you said when it was your birthday,” she reminds him. “And last Friday, when it was… just Friday.”

“Still applies, as you can see,” he speaks softly against her skin. “Happy birthday, my love.”

A mellow hum leaves her as she turns in his arms, finally opening her eyes to meet his. They’re still laced with sleep, heavy-lidded and warm, the early, weak sunlight filtering through the curtains and cascading all over his face. His hair is a mess, his cheek faintly creased from the pillow, but she thinks he’s never looked more beautiful than he does in the mornings. Mostly because no one but her knows that his eyes are incredibly clear when he opens them for the first time. Or that his hands, still asleep, do not grasp her with the same strength they do at night, but have a tenderness she knows she will never find anywhere else, except their own bed.

“Thank you, pretty boy,” she whispers, running a gentle finger over his jaw, then following the pillow marks up his cheek. Lightly, she cups his face, her thumb pressing on his dimple, making Lando grin.

He leans in to nuzzle his nose against hers before capturing her lips in a sleepy, lazy kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers, tender and sweet, the kind that makes her toes curl under the blanket. His hand skims up her side, slipping beneath the hoodie, fingers brushing against warm skin as he pulls her impossibly closer.

When they part, he sighs contentedly, resting his forehead against hers. “Sorry for waking you up.”

She hums, “You can wake me up like this everyday.”

“Yeah?” Lando giggles. “I actually had half a mind to let you sleep in, but I got too excited.”

She laughs softly. “Excited for what?”

Instead of answering, Lando reaches over to the nightstand to grab a small, beautifully wrapped box. He holds it out to her, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Her brows knit together as she pushes herself up onto her elbows. For a second, she thinks he’s about to propose, but he looks way too relaxed for that, which makes her question everything she knows about her boyfriend.

“What did you do, Lando?” she asks. “I told you no gifts this year.”

He smirks, nudging the box toward her. “It is not a gift. Think of it as an... investment. Come on, just open it.”

She hesitates, much more suspicious now, casting Lando a tamed look before carefully removing the ribbon. The paper falls away, revealing a sleek black velvet box. Her heart picks up its pace as she flicks it open and finds out that inside, resting against the dark fabric, is a car key.

She blinks, confused.

The logo gleams up at her, adding to her state.

“Lan…” she stares at the key, then back at him, as if waiting for him to laugh and tell her it’s all a joke. “This is a car key.”

Lando nods, biting his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. “Your dream car’s key,” he corrects her.

Her stomach flips violently. “No way. No. Lando, no. Absolutely not,” she keeps saying, shaking her head. “That’s too much,” she adds, shoving the box toward him as if it burns to touch. “You did not buy me a car for my stupid birthday.”

Incapable to hold his laugh any further, Lando lets out a little giggle. His voice is light, but there’s nothing but sincerity in his expression when he speaks again, “It’s not stupid. I wanted to. I’ve been planning this for a while now.”

She gapes at him, her brain struggling to process. “You bought me a Porsche.”

He shrugs, reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers. “I bought you your Porsche. The exact one you’ve been obsessing since forever,” he leans in, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “Don’t make me beg you to accept it. You deserve it and I can afford it, so just—”

“It’s not about deserving, Lando,” her heart swells, but panic creeps in. “I appreciate you for doing this, but I don’t even have a driver’s license. And I’m definitely not ready to get it any time soon. So please, can you take it back?”

His facial expression turns mischievous, raising a finger in the air, “Oh, no. You are ready. Which brings us to the second part of your present,” he says, tapping her nose playfully before throwing the covers off and getting up. “Get a comfy pair of shoes on. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

She looks at him warily. “Where exactly?”

Lando smirks, stretching before tugging a hoodie over his head. “Driving lessons,” he says, pointing at himself, “With me.”

Her stomach drops. “Lando, no.”

“Lando, yes,” he winks, crossing the room to where she sits on the bed, still in shock. “Baby, I know you’re terrified, but I wanna show you it’s not as scary as you think. It’ll be fun, I promise. And if not, we can stop at any time.”

Her lips part, but no words come out, only a strangled noise that makes Lando chuckle. He crouches in front of her, taking her hands in his, looking up at her. Sometimes, she thinks that the way he does it is so annoying, because she can’t say no when he gives her those puppy eyes. She realizes, looking back at him, that chances are Lando is even more excited than she is, which makes her feel a little guilty.

“Look, it’s okay to be nervous,” he says gently, pressing a kiss to her palm, “But I’ll be right there with you.”

Her chest tightens — not from anxiety this time, but from the sheer love she feels for this man, and for the way he always knows how to push her while making her feel safe.

She ends up nodding and, with that, Lando pulls her into a lingering kiss, as if sealing the promise between them.

WHEN LANDO SAID driving lessons, she thought he meant a quiet, empty parking lot somewhere in the city. Or maybe a back road with little to no traffic. What she did not expect was an entire race track at their disposal.

It’s February, and the cold still bites through the air, the kind of chill that seeps into her bones despite the heat blasting inside the car. The sky is now a heavy shade of gray, fluffy clouds stretching endlessly above the open space of the Silverstone Circuit. The grandstands stand empty, ghostly in their silence, the wind whistling through the steel framework.

Her hands tighten into fists as she stares at the massive expanse of the track. She’s been here before, sure, but she’s never seen this place so devoid of people and so lifeless. What strikes her, though, is that it doesn’t even matter, because the circuit has the same beauty — perhaps even more alluring when it’s not animated by the roar of people and the deafening sound of engines. It’s almost haunting. She can’t shake the feeling that it’s the same place where world-class drivers push their limits at blinding speeds, where Lando himself has raced countless times. And just for tooday, it belongs entirely to them.

Her heart pounds harder in her chest as she’s turning to look at him, “You got me Silverstone for my first driving lesson?”

Lando smirks, shutting the engine off. “Had to pull some strings, no biggie.” He looks back at her, his eyes gleaming with excitement under the thick, long lashes. “I didn’t want anything to distract you or to feel any external pressure. Just us, and your car.”

Her car.

She still hasn’t fully processed it. She spent the entire two-hour drive here just staring at it, running her fingers over the pristine leather seat when Lando wasn’t looking, and tracing the sleek dashboard, memorizing every detail. It smells brand new, the engine purring under his control like a well-tamed beast. But now, as he opens his door and steps out, the reality of what comes next hits her, and panic creeps up her spine once again.

She grips the seatbelt tightly, her fingers going numb, as she watches Lando walk around the car. He looks so at ease, so effortlessly confident as he gestures for her to switch places. Meanwhile, she feels like she could throw up in T minus five seconds.

“Come on, baby,” he calls, grinning as he taps the roof of the car. “Time to make you a driver.”

Yes, that sounds good. And yes, she wants this. She really does. But the moment she steps out into the cold air and faces the car from the driver’s side, the same doubt settles deep in her chest. It’s not that she’s scared of driving — well, she is. But that’s not the only reason why she postoned getting her license for so long. The simple thought makes her stomach flip, because she knows that the second she puts foot in a car, so many things can go wrong, especially if you’re afraid.

Lando notices her hesitance immediately, and his playful grin softens as he steps closer. “Hey,” he says, tilting his head. “What’s bothering you, hm? Talk to me.”

The girl exhales shakily. “I’m not sure about this, Lando. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” says Lando in a determined voice.

She looks at the car, then at the track ahead of them. “It’s...” her voice trails off, trying to come up with the best excuse and go back home to nestle between their warm sheets.

“It’s just tarmac, baby,” Lando’s tone is calm and reassuring. “It’s no different than any other road. Just bigger. Safer, actually.”

Her arms wrap around herself instinctively, bracing against the cold, but mostly against her own emotions. “What if I mess up?”

“Then you mess up,” he shrugs, “That’s what learning is, isn’t it?”

She knows he’s right, but the fear still lingers, coiling tight in her stomach. “And if I crash?”

“You won’t crash,” he answers with the same determination yet slightly amused, taking her by surprise, because Lando uses that voice only when he is sure of what he’s saying.

She scoffs, “Sure, how do you know that?”

Lando smiles, reaching for her hands, rubbing warmth into her fingers before bringing them up to his lips. “Because I am here.”

Ha.

She nods slowly, suddenly realizing that there’s no going back — not when Lando is so committed to show her a side of herself that even she’s not aware of. And the fact that he believes in her does something to her brain; it gives her a bit more confidence and courage. She’s seen Lando drive countless of times before. She watched him, his movements instinctive, so measured and smooth that it’s become second nature to him. Maybe she can try to replicate that to a certain degree.

For her own sake, she owes him that.

“Alright,” she manages to say, her voice much tamer than expected.

“That’s my girl,” he presses one last kiss to her knuckles before stepping back, gesturing to the driver’s seat. “Get in there.”

With a deep breath, she finally slides into the driver’s seat, and her entire body tense as she grips the steering wheel; it feels hard under her touch, yet delicate at the same time. Lando follows, settling into his place effortlessly, like this is just another normal day at the track for him.

“Okay,” Lando starts, his voice patient. “First, get comfortable. Adjust your seat, mirrors, whatever you need. Make sure you see everything and, most importantly, make sure you feel everything. All the points where your body makes contact with the car, yeah?” he watches her nodding, swallowing the lump in her throat, then adds, “There is no rush, so take your time. We’ve got plenty.”

Her movements are stiff and mechanical as she reaches for the seat adjustment; she can feel her pulse in her fingertips while she does it. Then, she places her hands on the steering wheel, feeling it firm under her grip, and she suddenly becomes hyper-aware of how tight her fingers become around it.

“Babe,” says Lando, noticing she’s still fighting on the inside. “Relax your hands. You don’t need to strangle it.”

She forces herself to loosen her grip, but her fingers still tremble slightly.

“That’s better,” Lando reaches over, placing a hand on her knee to ground her.

She inhales sharply, then exhales, trying to shake the nerves. Lando waits until she goes through everythig he’s just instructed her, without rushing or teasing at her hesitation. He’s just there, a constant presence that makes her feel more comfortable.

And then, “Think of it like when you’re on top,” he continues casually.

Her head whips toward him, eyes wide. “What?”

Lando’s expression changes, looking like he’s just mentally high-fived himself for the comparison. “When you’re on top, you’re in control,” he reminds her. “You set the pace. You decide how fast or slow you wanna go,” his fingers tighten on her thigh as he leans in slightly, his voice dipping lower. “The car will respond to everything you do. Try it. I’m here to guide you.”

“Lando.”

He keeps going, completely undeterred, “Baby, I know you know how to move. It’s all about finding that rhythm,” he says, his fingers tapping against her thigh for emphasis. “It’s literally the same thing. Smooth, steady, no sudden jerks. And when you’re ready to pick up speed…” Lando grins, his eyes darkening just slightly. “Well. You know what happens then.”

A laugh bursts from her chest, all the tension snapping like a rubber band. She slaps his arm away, her face heating at his ridiculous but so on-brand analogy. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he teases, laying back in his chair, “You’re finally breathing properly now.”

She blinks, realizing he’s right. The tightness in her chest has eased, her grip on the wheel no longer desperate. Her shoulders have dropped, her muscles loosening bit by bit. Lando sees the realization settling over her, content that he managed to put other images inside her head in order to make it easier to handle.

He chuckles, then gestures toward the track in front of them, “Alright, birthday girl. Ready to take me for a ride?”

She groans, covering her face with one hand. “You just can’t stop, can you?”

“Nope,” he says after a moment. “Foot on the brake.”

Instinctively, her foot finds the pedal, pressing down tentatively.

“Now, start the car.”

She swallows hard and reaches for the ignition button. The engine roars to life beneath her fingertips, smooth and powerful, vibrating through her entire body.

At the sound, Lando grins proudly. “There she is.” His hands go to rest on the armrest, his thumb brushing the fabric lightly. He watches carefully as she moves to adjust the mirrors with a focused look in her eyes. “Good,” he continues, his voice a soft command that she knows so well. “Now, keep the wheel steady, just like we talked about. Look ahead. Your eyes should be on the next corner, not the one you just passed.”

She nods, keeping her focus on the track.

“So, this car is rear-engined, which means most of the weight is at the back. That makes it a little trickier to handle if you throw it into a corner too fast. But,” Lando pauses, looking at her intently to assure her there’s nothings to be afraid of, “I’m here to make sure you drive it right.”

She scoffs nervously, “Is there a wrong way to drive it?”

“Plenty, actually. Relax your hold I said,” he instructs her again, “Baby, if it’s too tight, you won’t feel what the car is telling you.”

“Telling me?” she echoes, glancing at him with furrowed brows.

Lando nods, “Yeah. The car talks to you, just not with words. It tells you when it wants to rotate, when it has grip, when you need to be gentle or when you can push,” he says, gesturing toward the long straight. “Speaking of. Go on, give it some gas.”

Her heart jumps into her throat, but she listens, pressing down on the accelerator tentatively. The car responds instantly, surging forward with smooth, controlled aggression. She gasps, the force pressing her back against the seat, and Lando chuckles beside her.

“That’s it,” he praises. “A lot of power, hm?”

She lets out a breathy laugh, still nervous but slowly melting into the feeling of it all.

“Next, the corners,” Lando adds, eyes locked on the road as they approach one. “You want to brake before you turn, not while you’re turning. That’s how you keep it stable.”

She follows his words, pressing down on the brakes a little too early, but the car slows smoothly.

“Good,” he says, nodding approvingly. “Turn in,” he pauses, lips quirking into a smirk. “Like the way you move your hips when you ride me. Controlled, but with intention.”

Her foot nearly slips off the pedal. “Lando, stop that!” she squeaks, turning her head for a second, just to glare at him.

She feels the tires gripping the asphalt in a way that sends a thrill through her, despite the nerves still buzzing beneath the surface.

“I’m trying to speak your language,” he laughs, “Ease off the throttle and prepare to brake again,” Lando’s voice is smooth, “Yes, keep your foot light on the brake. Feel it?”

She does. While following his instructions, gently, she eases her foot off the gas, then applies just the right pressure to the brake, her heart racing with each turn. Lando watches her closely, but she can tell he’s holding back, not overloading her with instructions but guiding her just enough so she feels the car’s movements.

“Perfection,” he praises as she hits the apex of the corner, the car hugging the track with a controlled grace. “Accelerate again, gently. Let the car do the work for you. Don’t overthink it.”

She hesitates for a moment, her fingers adjusting their grip on the wheel, before she picks up speed, feeling the engine roaring beneath her. Despite the fear gnawing at her, there’s a strange thrill beginning to bubble inside, a sense of freedom she’s never felt before. She can feel the car responding to her, listening to her movements, exactly like Lando told her it will. Which makes her eager to go faster, to push.

But as she rounds another corner, a new wave of uncertainty floods her chest, and she glances over at her boyfriend again. “Lando, I don’t know…”

“You do,” Lando’s voice is almost a growl, “Bury your foot on the pedal. See what this car is capable of.”

Her pulse quickens, but there’s more excitement behind it now. With Lando’s words echoing in her mind, she takes a deep breath, presses her foot into the pedal, and feels the car surge beneath her. For a moment, he senses her hesitation, but then the car roars to life, and she feels the pull and the adrenaline racing through her veins. The acceleration is immediate and, before she knows it, the world outside blurs, the track stretching out before her like an endless ribbon.

To her surprise, she loves the feeling.

Next time he speaks, Lando’s words sound like a whisper over the roar of the engine, “That’s it, baby,” his eyes sparkle with approval, and she can hear the pride in his voice all over again. “You did it!”

THERE IS A faint smell of leftover takeout that lingers in the air, blending with the sweet vanilla of the birthday muffins he insisted on getting as dessert. There will be a cake and they’ll get to properly celebrate with her friends at the end of the week but, until then, her birthday was a success, topped with adrenaline and excitement, which she never thought she would ever enjoy.

Now, she stands by the full-length closet mirror, running a brush through her hair, the weight of the day settling into her body. It was terrifying yet thrilling in ways she hadn’t expected. What surprises her even more is her sudden desire to get back in the driver’s seat. She’s slowly realizing how addictive the feeling she experienced on the track is, and even though she knows that driving around the city won’t compare to what Lando offered her today, she feels — perhaps for the first time in her life — ready to take that step.

Lando moves behind her right after she puts the brush down, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his chest against her back.

“So, when can I drive again?” he hears her asking in a teasing voice, though there’s a genuine spark of nervousness behind it.

He smirks against the curve of her neck, lips barely brushing her skin. “You can give me another ride now, since you insist,” Lando suggests, his voice dripping with smugness.

She rolls her eyes and, twisting in his hold, she faces him, her hands sliding up his chest, fingertips tracing the contours of his collarbones. “Sounds good, but aren’t you afraid that too much control will get to my head?”

“Not at all.”

Lando steps forward, kissing her with enough force to show her that he means every word. His hands are now everywhere — on her hips, up and down her back, in her hair, then gripping her thighs as he lifts her effortlessly. She lets a surprised gasp into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist as he presses her back against the mirror. It’s hard against her skin, a stark contrast to the softness rolling off him in waves.

Her fingers end up tangling in his soft curls, tugging just enough to make Lando groan, a sound she’s never learned how to properly react to, since it drives her wild every single time she hears it. He tastes like the vanilla from the muffin that they shared earlier, so sweet and sinful.

When he comes back to his senses, Lando brushes his nose against hers, his voice hushed but firm, “I’m so proud of you, you know that?” he asks in a whispered voice. “You’re gonna do great.”

A shiver runs down her spine, not just from his words but from the unwavering belief behind them. Lando has always been her greatest cheerleader, the one who never let her doubt herself, even when she wanted to.

Her exhale is soft as a baby’s breath, fueled by the praise that sets her skin ablaze. “Lando,” she whispers, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck.

He chuckles, the sound of it full of want. “Right here, baby. What do you need?”

She can’t use her words at the moment. Instead, she just presses herself closer to him, silently telling him what she needs. And Lando gets the message loud and clear. With a firm grip, he walks them toward the bed, her body flush against his.

Clothes come off in a frenzy: her shirt lifted over her head, his sweatpants kicked away, her underwear dragged down her thighs in a rush. His lips are on her skin the entire time, trailing fire along her collarbones, down the valley between her breasts and over the curve of her stomach.

When she’s bare beneath him, he pulls back, drinking her in.

“Want on top?” asks Lando, a little smirk hanging in the corner of his mouth.

The girl shakes her head, “You first,” she teases, already breathless.

He doesn’t answer, but runs a hand down his face before gripping her thighs and flipping her onto her stomach. She gasps as he positions himself behind her, big hands spreading across her waist. Lando’s fingers flex, gripping her like she belongs to him in ways neither of them can describe, but both agree on.

Gently, he presses a kiss to her shoulder blade, then another, before dragging his teeth along her heated skin. “Let me show you how high confidence can get you, baby.”

And then, he pushes inside.

A muffled moan spills from her lips, her back arching hard into him as he bottoms out, filling her completely. He presses his lips in a thin line at the feeling, at the way she welcomes him so perfectly, clenching around him like she was made for this. It’s hard to keep quiet, yet he wants to give himself the priviledge of being able to feel her like this a little longer.

“God, you feel so good,” he mumbles, his hands sliding up to her shoulders, fingers curling around them.

“Move then,” she orders, managing to get a chuckle out of him.

Lando’s thrusts are calculated at first, dragging along every sensitive spot inside her, pulling sounds out of her that go straight to his cock. But then he shifts, picking up speed, pounding into her with a precision that leaves her gasping further more.

Before she knows it, she’s drowning in all of it. The feeling of him, the way he takes control, and how patient he is with her.

“Lando,” she whines, voice muffled against the sheets.

“I know, baby,” he breathes, bending over her, pressing a hand to the pillow beside her head. “Just take it.”

He switches between teasing strokes and deep, hard thrusts, keeping her on edge, making her feel every inch of is length. The air around them is charged, filled with the scent of skin and something intoxicatingly sweet. Heat clings to them, heavy and thick, as if the room itself is suddenly caught in the same fever they are.

When he feels her tightening around him way too soon, Lando doesn’t hesitate to flip her onto her back again, eyes locked onto hers as he slides home once more. She whimpers at the quick change, at the way he goes so deep in this new position, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him even closer. Lando whimpers, dropping his forehead to hers, breath ragged against her lips.

“Look at you,” he can barely speak, “So. Good.”

She shivers at the praise, nails raking down his back, grounding herself in the heat of his skin. He watches her, pupils blown wide, drinking in every expression that flits across her face, from the parted lips and the way her brows knit together as pleasure overwhelms her, to the sheer need burning in her gaze. It’s almost too much for him, but the desire to see her crumbling for him like that is stronger.

The roll of his hips, every stretch, and every inch of him pressing into her it’s enough to send shudders through her body. He feels her everywhere: surrounding him, clinging to him like she’s planning to never let him go. And fuck, he never wants her to.

His hands roam her body, admiring every soft dip of her skin. One traces the swell of her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple before his lips follow, dragging warm, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, her neck, and anywhere he can reach. She tilts her head back, offering more of herself to him, and he groans against her skin, nipping at her pulse just to feel the way she gasps.

“Harder,” she breathes in such wrecked manner that sends a bolt of heat straight through him.

His body tenses for a split second before a sudden hunger flickers in his eyes. No hesitation. No teasing. Just a low, guttural curse as he grips her hips and thrusts into her with purpose, each snap of his hips punishing in the best way possible.

“That good for you?” he rasps, voice tight with control, but his pace says he’s barely holding on. She nods, but it’s not enough for him. Lando grips her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Let me hear you.”

“Yes,” she moans, voice breaking as he drives into her harder. “Yes, you feel so good, baby. Don’t stop...”

Lando finds the strength to smile at her, watching her slowly coming undone beneath him, her body arching, legs tightening around his waist. “Won’t,” he assures her, “You take it so well, it drives me crazy,” he groans, his hand sliding between them, fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling, teasing.

Her legs start trembling around his waist, and he knows she’s close. He can feel it in the way her body is betraying her, spasming around him, the way her breaths grow uneven, and how her hands tighten in his hair as if anchoring herself to him.

“Mhm,” he hums, his forehead pressed to hers. “Ready to come with me, love?”

She doesn’t have time to answer as she moans his name, a cry lost in their furtive kiss, just as her body tightens around him, pulling him over the edge right with her. His repetitive moans are maddening as he spills inside her, hips jerking, hands gripping her with a force that’s going to leave marks.

After that, he refuses to move. They just breathe, chests colliding against each other, bodies pressed so tightly together that it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Then, Lando tilts his head, pressing another lazy kiss to her lips before whispering against them. “Best student I’ve ever had.”

She laughs, smacking his shoulder, but she doesn’t deny it.

A shiver rolls down Lando’s spine as he pulls out, his body thrumming with aftershocks, oversensitive but still craving her. His eyes flutter shut for a second at the feeling — she’s still so tight, greedily clenching around nothing, the evidence of their release slick between them, a mess they should deal with but won’t. Not yet.

His cock, still heavy and slick, rests between them, twitching slightly as he leans down to kiss her again. It’s slow, languid, an extension of the pleasure still simmering in the air between them. His lips move against hers with a practiced ease, his body pressing into her as if he’s trying to mold them into one.

Then, his hand finds her neck. He squeezes lightly, just enough to make her breath hitch; his smirk against her lips is pure sin.

“Get on top,” he orders, voice thick with something commanding. His hands find her hips again, thumbs stroking the heated skin there. “I want you to reproduce every single thing I explained to you at the circuit today. Show me what you learned,” he provokes her, eyes dark with challenge.

She bites the inside of her cheek, chest burning at the way he looks at her — his lips parted, eyes filled with lust —, fueling her desire to show off.

Slowly, she sinks down onto him, gasping at the way he stretches her as if he wasn’t inside her not even two minutes ago. She lifts herself before easing back down, soon finding a rhythm that makes him curse under his breath.

“Keep your grip firm,” Lando instructs, trailing his fingers up her spine. “Don’t be afraid to push a little harder.”

She presses her hands to his chest and moves faster, earning a deep, satisfied moan from him.

“Fuck,” Lando swears under his breath, eyes flickering between her face and the way she moves on top of him. “Such a fast learner.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Yandere destined one... deciding to courtnap his new obsession. I would love to see this!

(I don't write much destined one but I'm really liking his character!)

Two young children sat in the shadow of the apricot trees, fresh and juicy fruits in their hands while they spit away the seeds, playing and laughing. Your childish laugh echoed when you were able to defeat the young one beside you.

Your innocent and naive mind never found trouble in his look, after all, how many kids could have said to be friends with a demon monkey?

"You know," you said, chewing another fruit, "my big sister is going to get married soon, and they promised me to buy me a new dress!"

His eyes narrowed; his sharp canines bit in half the apricot with one strike.

"What does marry mean?"

"It's when two people love each other a lot and they start to live together!"

"Oh…we do the same! But without new dresses…" He looked at you, his tail swirled around. "Say, would you marry me when we get older?"

You inclined your head, confused by this question.

"But you're a monkey!"

"I know! So? Do you want to?'

"…ummm…"

You bit into the apricot again, clearly questioning if you wanted to get married in the first place.

///

The open window allowed a soft breeze to enter your room. Your small figure held the doll that your father gifted you for your birthday to help you sleep, especially since, for some reason, your sleep seemed quite disturbed and erratic.

Strange noises came from your room, alarming both of your parents and the servants.

Sometime you woke up, feeling a pair of eyes watching you. Sometimes you actually saw a figure, and every time your screams woke everyone, alerting them and making them come to you in fear.

During the day, when you were able to meet him, you told him about those nightmares, fearing what was happening in the security of your own house.

"I'm sure those are just nightmares! Who could even think to hurt you?"

And you wanted to believe him, but the truth was beyond everyone's imagination.

Your parents always told you to beware of yaoguais, especially the monkey ones.

"As simile and harmless as they look, they can be conniving and prone to lying! They have an eye for treasures and beauty, and they're ready to steal!"

But a child doesn't know better, and you thought of him as a friend. You played with him, shared snacks with him, never knew that he had a treasure in his mind all of this time, and, despite the age, he had already enough courage to try and steal it.

You wanted to be brave, a brave little girl, and, instead of screaming, that night you pointed the light of your candle closer to whatever was roaming in your room.

Your eyes met the one of your friends, occupied in preparing a bag, with your staff.

When you screamed, your parents finally met who was trying to steal you. He ran away, betrayed and in fear.

You never saw him again.

///

"And what did the fortune teller say about the date?"

"The ending of the month is a good date!"

The voices of your mother and your grandmother were just background noises in your head. Looking out of the window, your eyes fall on the old apricot orchard, with the white petals falling down like snowflakes. An inch of nostalgia and fear came back to you, remembering what memories held that place. Sitting on your chair, the breeze outside the window didn't give you the chance to be part of the discussion between your family, even if you were at the center of it.

"My child is getting married! Her father acts all grumpy about the expenses, but he's just so sad to see his princess become a bride!"

It wasn't like you didn't want to get married; to be fair, it wasn't in your mind at all, and you were mostly acceptable of the event.

Your spouse, the man who insisted with all his soul to marry you, was the child that came to you after the rumor started to spread.

The girl of the monkey, a girl that had almost been taken away from her house by a demon monkey.

The child came to you, curious about why a demon should want to take away such an ugly girl like you. You didn't know if you were ugly, but you knew that you didn't want to take that offense, and so you punched him. You two became friends; he started to play with you, allowing you to finally come out from the fear of meeting the monkey again, the fear of being captured.

You forgot about that fear…Maybe it was because you wanted it to be as far away as possible that you decided to accept marrying your childhood friend, even if, more than love, you felt for him a connection like with a brother.

Well, it wasn't like you had any friends or suitors since your background…Better accept it, you thought.

While looking at the orchard, something caught your eye, a glint, something shining between the flowers and the leaves. Strange, it wasn't the right time to tend to the trees… You tried to look better, your eyes glued on the plants, when the cranky voice of your grandmother called you back.

"Child, are you listening? "

"Uh?" You looked at her, completely spaced out. She sighed, massaging her face.

"Dear Y/N, how are you planning to be a good wife if you can't even listen to your old baba?" She smiled again, caressing your face gently. "We were talking about the decorations!"

And, by being dragged back in the discussion, you failed to notice a tail moving like a snake in the trees and the glint of a sword.

///

The smell of the powder and the incense was almost intoxicating; you had to plead with your mother to let the maiden open a window to allow some fresh air to clean the room. You were in a remote area of the house; no one could ever be able to trespass there, so why bother fearing being seen?

The red silks adorned your skin like the petals of a peony, the blue gems in your hair to symbolize the ever-l'astinenza phoenix, the crystal flowers decorating your neck and ears…

You needed to look better, the gentle ray of sun illuminating your face like no candle could even. You never were someone that proud or arrogant, but this time you had to admit it to yourself: you were standing.

You gasped; the makeup on your skin gave you an aura of elegance and refinement. It was like a princess was sitting in front of that mirror.

Your mother must have noticed that a sense of pride took over her.

"Oh…oh, my baby," her voice starting to crack, holding a handkerchief to stop the tears from ruining her makeup.

"Mom, please!"You tried to calm her down, "Don't cry!'

"Forgive me, my dear," she sighed, "it's just so much for me…"

You smiled; a sigh escaped from you. She's been crying since the news of your engagement, so overwhelmed by the fact that her little girl was now becoming the bride of a fine young man. The child that was marked as the chosen by the demon was finally getting free…

You caressed her shoulder, hugging her with fondness, looking at the maid that even she couldn't contain the happiness.

"Please," you said, trying to calm your mother, "can you take Mother to take some fresh air? I can take it from here…"

She nodded, helping your mother to stand up and leading her out of the room, closing the door behind her to give you some privacy.

You turned your face back to the mirror, smiling again at your reflection on the surface.

You were getting merry; soon you would leave the house of your parents to live with the man that promised to protect you from an old nightmare…

You felt a little bad, but you cared for him, and you knew you were holding nothing but affection towards him.

He could have asked someone else, and yet he chose you. He properly courted you… Yes, it was better like this…

You yawned a little, feeling a wave of exhaustion crashing on you all of a sudden. How strange…Well, you had woken up quite early for the preparations, and you had no time to take a pause from your big day. Sitting down in silence, the sweet smell of the incense was making you quite dizzy and sleepy.

Without even acknowledging your action, you allowed your head to repose on your arm, sustained by the wood of the vanity. You didn't plan to fall asleep, only to rest your eyes a little. You promised yourself to not ruin the dress or your makeup.

Why were you so sleepy? Was always the incense of this smell? You didn't know; you felt so tired right now.

How funny, three people in a room and no one noticed a hand from the window, pouring a strange powder in the incense burner.

You were so tired; the figure slipping in your room was probably a dream.

///

"Oh my, she looks like a goddess!"

"Is she a princess, Mama?"

"Not for us for sure!"

The giggling from the monkeys was whispers in the cavern, echoing through the walls alongside the sound of water drops and the small cascades that were born from the main stream and found passages in the mountain.

The small taunts and remarks were silenced in the ears of the now-grown monkey, far too occupied in admiring your beauty, now sleeping peacefully. Not anymore the small cub that tried several times to take you away once, too small and frail to actually do it. Now he was older, stronger, and bolder; he had found no problem in holding you in his arms, like he had found no problem in slicing the throat of the young maiden and bursting like an old pumpkin the head of your own mother.

Killing the maiden? It was precociousness; he needed no one to set an alarm when he was taking you with him on the mountain cave behind the waterfall of his homeland, but with your mother…that was personal.

He had such a hate towards your parents that he swore nothing could compare to it.

He could have accepted the fact that for some mortals, taking away their own mate could be seen in not such a good light, but he was a kid! Who could blame the ignorance of the youth?!

He was able to understand that, but it was when he had come back with his father, to discussing the proposition of letting you two get marry once you were both old enough. He was even able to accept the idea of just doing it in the mortal way, acting as a human; that was nothing if the price was having you at his side forever.

"Our daughter will never be the spouse of that monster."

Since he was a child, those words were like fire branded in his mind. It was at that time that he decided that no matter the cost, having you was his real mission. No matter what the Elder said, bringing back the old Sage was just another way to prove how your parents were wrong.

He had trained a lot, you see? He had become stronger, just to protect you. He hated the fact that your parents put so many guards near your house; he even suspected that they forced you to not set a foot in your sacred haven, the apricot orchard! Where you two met, when he had proposed the first time to marry you.

You were silent that day, but you were just shy, right?

His hands caressed your rosy cheeks, your sleeping form on the mattress of thousands of flowers to help you sleep, until at least he had done what was needed to be done.

He could have stayed there for days, admiring your innocent, relaxed face, your chest rising and falling alongside your breath, in those beautiful garments made for a bride, his bride.

But he still had some jobs to do, he told himself, sighing, holding his sword to his side and his staff in his hand.

He needed to take care of your father and to that…boy.

Since the day he started pestering, how much he wanted to rip his fingernails one by one, to pluck his eyes and tongue to make him eat them, to rip his guts from his body and strangle him with them, to make him suffer in every possible way, to try to take his beloved Y/N away from. Marry him? The thought made him sick, like he could have been even at your level! Your parents were fools to accept his proposals; they did so only to keep you two apart, of course!

But that was over; today your life as newlyweds was beginning. Kissing your forehead, he saw your sleeping body move a little. He hoped you were dreaming of him because he had dreamed of you for such a long time.

And so, after another loving glance, he started marching out of the cave, ready to make some more blood spill.

@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos

@nerium-lil

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666 @sleepingdramaqueen @whitefox2k18 @ladydoe8 @jeminiikrystal @theactualgir @birdioarts

@jssy96 @silenthopper @nezukos-number1fan

@blackknight-kai

[bylersboy]

holy fuck I love poetry. I love poetry deep in my soul. it cradles me like my mother should. holding me in its arms when I cry. or when I dont. when I feel hollow and cold. warm spreads through me with my words.

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

Phileas may have traveled the world, but I only want to explore his natural beauty firsthand

[velvetrooibos]

I am slowly reading all of @keycarabiner ‘s work on ao3 and it’s ruining my LIFE YOUR WRITING MAKES ME FEEL INSANE.

THIS is a scene from their fic ‘Storge’, this fucking. Sick snapshot of a camp halfblood au with Aphrodite kid Steve, and…. Mysterious Eddie…. OOOOO THE DRAMA

[giantkillerjack]

Betty is so relatable I would do the same shit for my wife

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

I am seeing so many of my lovely mutuals on here feeling down about the fandom, their content and other stuff

and I just want to grab you all by the face, look you in the eyes, and tell you how fucking fabulous you all are, and don't you EVER STOP WRITING, or doing what you love. Because you are fucking amazing and you bring so much value and joy to this fandom, just by being a part of it.

[lookingupatthesamemoon]

✨When you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite accounts (Positivity is cool)!!🎶✨ /nf

AHHHH CAITIE ☹️❤️ thank u for thinking of me ☹️❤️ u are the awesomest ever 🫶 choosing just five songs was very tough !!! i ended up just choosing 5 of my all-timers :)

[arthropodboy]

Having very strong feelings about Dead Boy Detective's rn

[loverboybrightsideghost]

what if i said i ship sky and viktor

[widevibratobitch]

i hate my uni sm lol i dont want to be heeeeere let me out let me out

[micamicster]

God. Television is back

[anxiously-awaiting]

thinks about the double entendre in tristan's bio ("one day, Tristan fell in love with a woman named Iseult. No, he was made to fall in love.") and then starts chewing my hands off

[roger-paladino]

Feeling so normal about Roger before I passed out I started writing a full timeline for his life

[leojurand]

you ever think about how marthe was always destined to be lymond's shadow and to live and die as an extension of him, doomed to never really be her own person

and henry, inevitably, was cursed to be simon's reflection, and to live and die as an extension of him, doomed to never really be his own person

because i do think about it a normal amount

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

sua sweet dream save me. sua sweet dream... save me sua sweet dream