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cheriladycl01 · 3 months

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When at work - Lando Norris x UniStudent! Reader

Plot: Lando has known you since you were born, literally childhood friends. You went to every karting weekend with him until he started to travel more. As childhood lovers who have been dating for 8 years what happens when the general public find out about you?

Credit to landooscurls for the GIF

You'd known Lando since you were born just two years after him, and so until Year 4 when you excelled in your academics you were a school year behind him, you were moved up a year to his year. You followed him to the karting tracks when you were little being his biggest supporter and if you go back and look at interviews you'll always be spotted talking animatedly to his family about the race.

You had very strict parents about schooling and they wouldn't let you miss any days off, you could go to karting with Lando, after school or on the weekends but you couldn't take days off school for his races.

"Mum please! I want to go support him!" you cried when she told you that you couldn't have the day off to go watch Lando kart in one of his first proper championship races.

"No Y/N, Lando has found something he is good at... you are a smart girl and school is where you should be!" you mum had refused, smiling at you sadly.

"Dad?" you cried looking over at your dad, who would normally say yes to any request you had, especially if it involved Lando and his dad Adam, as they were friends.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry but I'll have to agree with your mum on this one" he sighs pulling you into a hug. Those days at school that Lando wasn't there were lonely to say the least, Lando's friends wouldn't hang out with you if it was only you and you didn't have any of friends.

Eventually Lando quit school when he got to British Formula three, there he made lots of new friends including Max, who he introduced to you. You would miss Lando in school, and tried to branch out to make new friends but nothing felt as close as the bond you shared with Lando.

"Y/N, this is my friend Max I met him in karting" he smiles pulling you closer to Max.

"Erm, hi" you had smiled shyly at Max, who smiled back at you. With Max it felt like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you unlike Lando's school friends who just sort of acknowledged your existence because of Lando.

You and Max of course made fast friends after this.

This was 2015, and he asked you there and then to be his girlfriend. At first you laughed and said no, because you thought he was joking and one of the boys from karting had dared him as a cruel joke. But after lots of groveling on his behalf you said yes.

In 2016, you managed to exceed in your GCSE'S getting 6 A* to B grades. Lando had come just to celebrate with you. The next year you did the last of your GCSE's getting 7 more A* - B grades making you come out with 13 GCSE's in total. Lando had come to celebrate with you, while you had gone to celebrate with him that he had won the Formula 3 championship.

He of course, was promoted to Formula 2 for the 2018 season and became a test and reserve driver for Mclaren, which made you so proud because this was his way of being able to get into Formula One. You went on to do your Alevel-s, which were Maths, Physics, Design and Technology and Law. You were now just turned 17 and looking at universities you could go to, and looking at what degree you wanted to go into.

He came second in Formula 2, just behind the other British Racing Driver George Russell. And was promoted to F1 for the 2019 Season and would be in his rookie season.

Halfway through his first season which had gone pretty well with only 2 DNF's and him coming 6th highest, you'd finished your exams and had got offers back from all 5 universities you'd applied to. It was sad really, you'd applied to the University of Surry and University of Royal Holloway just to be near the Mclaren Technology Centre so you could be closer to Lando in the off season.

You'd ended up choosing Cambridge University in the end and spend the rest of your summer until the end of September travelling to races with Lando, you went with his Dad, having his other spare pass. You saw him in Monaco, Canada, France, Austria, Silverstone, Germany and Hungry before you spent the summer break in Greece together along with Max. Then you came with him to Belgium, Italy and Singapore before you had to go home to move into student accommodation.

As a rookie there wasn't too much focus on Lando, but when a girl was spotted with him in the paddock for 10 races, people had questions. After they did some digging they worked out that you were childhood friends with Lando and you were in his older and definitely cringier Instagram pictures, and they checked his tagged photos which led them to your account that he was following.

Luckily it was private but you were shocked at the influx of follow requests.

Rumors spread and people deducted that you must be his girlfriend. It made you nervous but Lando promised to go at your pace.

Your first year of university was cut short, everything went into lockdown, and you were alone in your little dorm room with 5 other housemates. It was a month until you finished all your exams online, and made the decision to travel to Lando's to live with him.

You ended up staying with him for the whole lockdown, and then travelling around with him for the whole of the 2020 season. You managed to do this while studying as your campus was shut for the whole of 2020 and most of 2021. You had an amazing second year grade passing with a 92 overall school having a 1st in your second year. So when 2021 came around you'd applied for Formula One internships so you could keep travelling around with Lando and almost all of them as they already knew you accepted you, you had a difficult time deciding who to go with.

Eventually you went with Red Bull, of course Lando had made jokes about how betrayed he felt, but was happy for you being in a top constructor. You joined them for the 2021 Azerbaijan GP, on the 6th of June you were there for 17 races in 2021 and learnt so much from the team.

You spent until September 2022 with them having major input on the build of the 2022 Red Bull to the point Christian Horner ask for you to be shown on the Instagram. 14 races you spend with them and it was a wild ride before you had to go back to University for your final year.

At this point you and Lando had been together for 7 years strong now. People worked out how long you'd been together a while ago and it had really shocked them. They expected you to be engaged and ... well they weren't far off.

He proposed to you in the winter break of 2022 on a ski holiday he'd taken you on. All of your's and his family were there too see and it was beyond magical. You were going into the 2023 season with a Fiancé and your soulmate.

You let your Instagram go public during this time, the fans had been asking for more content from you. You appeared on streams, and Lando always posted you on his accounts. Now it was time for them to go and stalk you account, instantly people went back through your photos finding old pictures from when you and Lando were younger and then the more recent pictures that everyone thought were cute.

Now Lando had gone back to racing and you were starting revision for exams that would happen in May.

However, you didn't tell Lando, that money was getting a bit tight. You'd always been funny when it came to how much Lando earned and how he always insisted that you lived rent free with him and to not worry about it. So at the start of 2023, towards the end of your degree you got a little side job as a barista in an independent coffee shop.

Lando of course being busy now that it was the start of the 2023 season and he had a new rookie team mate to meet, he was none the wiser.

It was just a typical day at the coffee shop when you were with your college, making yourself a drink when a girl and her friend came in.

"Oh my gosh, your Y/N!" a voice says making you look up, you smile happily not thinking much off it because you were wearing a name badge so you assumed she got it from there.

"Yes, hello how can I help you today!" you ask politely stopping making your drink and walking over to the till.

"You're Y/N Lando Norris Fiancé right?" she asks and your mouth drops open in shock. You had been noticed around the paddock, of course you had... but this was the first time someone had come to you in public.

"Ah yes I am!" you smile shyly. The interaction was relatively normal, you served them their drinks and made conversation with them before having to go back and serve more customers.

You didn't notice them take pictures and videos of you interacting and serving customers, which of course made their way onto social media. Suddenly and influx of customers came, which was strange for a Tuesday afternoon.

As well as the influx of customers you had people come in with cameras, starting to take pictures.

"Y/N what is happening all of these people are asking for you" Rhianne your co-worker asks and that's when the blender turns off and you can hear people calling your name.

They were fans of F1.

"Hey Y/N Lando deserves better than you"

"Y/N why are you working minimum wage when you have a boyfriend with a net worth of over 10 mil"

"Y/N break up with Lando"

"Oh my god, how did they all know this is where I work" you say asking your college not sure what to even do.

"Okay, let's get you out the back. Call the police and I'll try keep up with orders" She says pushing you towards the exit, the staff room was on the other side of the shop so you were going to have to tackle your way through the mound of people.

Eventually after people shoving phones in your face and grabbing at your wrist. You manage to get into the staff area and lock the door. You were crying as you called the police, who said they'd send bodies to you immediately.

After you hung up, your phone started to ring and Lando's face popped up.

"Hi baby" you say trying to sound like your not crying. Your camera was facing up so he couldn't see you.

"Y/N show me where you are right now. I swear to god, if what I'm seeing on twitter is true" he huffs out making you pan down the camera to show the back room you were in. He was in Australia right now and had heard from Oscar that you were trending on twitter and looked scared.

"Are you safe?" he asks worried, making you burst into tears. You could suddenly feel everyone's hands back on you and your breathing goes shallow.

"Mmm, I had to call the police there was so many people" you cry, wiping your tears.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Look after Australia, I'm coming to you okay! Why the fuck didn't you ask me if you needed money" he asks looking at you with that disappointed look you hated.

"Lando, you know how i feel about that" you say.

"Baby, your still in Uni. You shouldn't have to work. Do you parents know?" he asks, and you shake you head.

"Hey Y/N! How are you?" Oscar asks coming into view of the camera.

"I'm okay Oscar, I cant wait to meet you next week!" You smile at him, blinking away the tears that were still trying to come out.

"Oh, I think the police are here, but I'll call you when I'm home!" you say hearing a knock at the door.

"Ask them to take you home. You shouldn't walk round the streets alone! I love you darling" Lando sighs.

"I love you too Lando, thank you!"

A/N: I feel like this isn't very good, I'm sorry this feels like its so info dumpy and not much fluff!!

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 x reader

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whorekneecentral · 6 months

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Sticky Fingers

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad!seb, seb referring to himself as daddy, cheesy flirting, oral (m!receiving), the use of daddy in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding kink, hint to pregnancy kink if you squint, creampie, a touch of cum play, finger sucking, mommy kink but in a joking way.

Word Count: 2,112

Author's Note: would it really be me if I didn't start it off with my favourite dilf on the planet?? happy holidays to everyone who celebrates in whatever way you do and to those of you who don't, I hope you have a wonderful winter season!!

merry smutmas series

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board.

It had been a long year; Sebastian had been driving you mad as much as it was nice to have him home. A full year of retirement and Seb was making sure this holiday season was the best one yet.

Last year, after he retired, you had practically already gotten everything together for the holidays. Sebastian helped decorate and do activities with your daughter but this year, he was hands on from day one. He insisted you guys get a real tree as well as decorate the whole house from top to bottom. You couldn't count how many times he had you running to the store to pick up something for him and his newest holiday project.

Your daughter was upstairs in her bed, fast asleep with her messy blonde curls all scattered over the pillow when you checked on her. Sebastian had put her to bed while you had gone to take a shower.

Usually, you'd find him in bed by now or in the living room, finally working on the insanely long list of tv shows Charles had recommended to him over the years.

Tonight was different, the house was quiet and you couldn't seem to spot your husband anywhere as you made your way through the house.

A light peeked out from around the corner, the door to the basement slightly ajar and you pulled it open, slowly making your way downstairs.

You can see Sebastian from behind, the man freezes when he hears the creaking of the stairs. "It's just me," you announced, the man visibly relaxed, turning to smile at you.

"What are you doing down here?" You asked, finally making it down the stairs. "So secretive, are you jerking off?" You jokingly asked, Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Don't need to do that when I have you," he raises his eyebrows and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Whatever Seb," you laughed, "seriously, what are you doing down here?"

"Trying to wrap this," Sebastian steps to the side, revealing the massive box that was behind him. On the front was a photo of the doll house your daughter wanted.. the ridiculously expensive dollhouse that is. It's not that you two didn't get your daughter what she wanted but she had to earn it. Just because her father is who he is and the fact that he has money, doesn't mean she should get whatever she wants.

You raise her as a normal kid, not some spoiled brat who gets whatever they want.

You huffed, arms folded over your chest as you looked at your husband. "Sebastian, you didn't."

He glances between you and the dollhouse. "What?"

"Do you know how expensive that is?"

"Yeah duh, I bought it babe." He says as if he was stating the obvious, which he was.

He takes a step towards you, grabbing your arms to unfold them, "listen, I know you don't want me to just buy her whatever she wants but it's Christmas and she did really well on her first term report card, remember ?" Sebastian smiles at you, trying to justify his purchase.

You sigh, nodding. You always gave in, both he and his daughter knew as much.

You reach up, holding his face. "You're the best daddy a girl could ask for."

From the moment the words left your mouth, you could see the gears turning in his head. Sebastian's hands grab your ass, squeezing it when he leans in to give you a kiss. "I know I am," he whispers against your lips and you know he did not mean it in the same way you had said it.

Laughing, you lean back in your husband's arms. "Only you can make that dirty."

The man swings you in the direction of your couch, dropping you down on it before getting on top of you. "I'll show you dirty," he says, kissing you once again.

Your legs wrapped around your husband, holding him against you. Seb's lips are all over you, hands slipping between the two of you, pulling on the hem of his t-shirt until he stops to take it off.

"Don't look at me like that," he teases, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your stomach. "Like what?" You breathe, head tipped back into the cushions.

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I'd give you another baby right now, Sebastian."

The man freezes, looking up at you. There's a wicked smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. Sebastian moves to between your legs, settling there for a minute as he presses kisses along your bare skin, following the trail from your hip, down your thighs to between them.

Your hand tangles in his blonde curls, giving it a tug and pulling him off of you before he can get to what he really wants. The man's brows furrow, looking at you. "Sweetheart," he huffs, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thighs.

You give him a shove back with your foot, sitting up. Sebastian watches as you move him to sit and you move from the couch to the floor. Seb reaches for the pillow, dropping in front of you so you'd have some sort of cushioning; he knows even though this was your idea, you'd blame him for sore knees tomorrow.

"You're sure?" He asks, watching as your manicured nails tugs on the strings on his sweats. "Absolutely," you say, your eyes fixed on him as your hands rub up his thighs.

Seb watches as you lick your hand, his head tips back and a soft moan slips out when you wrap your hand around him, moving it up and down slowly.

His eyes don't move from you, watching your every move. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something but he can't bring himself to. You lean forward, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh. Sebastian groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you wrap your lips around him.

"God-" he breathed, his arm hung over the armrest and his head tipped back into the couch.

His eyes flutter shut when you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down. You glance up at your husband; eyes shut, his hand reaching down to tangle in your hair - pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

You move yourself up a bit, lips still around the tip and your hand quickly replaces where your mouth was. Sebastian finally opens his eyes, looking down at you again just as your tongue swirls around the tip.

His hips involuntarily buck upwards, forcing you down on him a little bit more. "Oh fuc- baby, do that- yeah." He's out of breath when he whispers the words.

That was a reaction only you could get out of him.

It was killing him but he forces himself to pull you up off of him, your hand wraps around his cock, moving it slowly. "What?" You asked, your tongue running across your bottom lip - the sight alone makes his cock twitch in your hand; you smile at the reaction.

"I was gonna cum."

"So? I'm not complaining." You tell him, leaning forward to rest your cheek on his thigh. Sebastian reaches down, his knuckles brushing over your cheek - red and flushed.

You looked so beautiful like this.

Sebastian smiles, "I know but.. what if I wanted to try for one more?"

"One more?" You asked, brows furrowed as you looked up at the man. It takes you a moment, your husband's glance was suggestive, as if you were meant to remember something - "Oh!" You giggled, sitting up straight now. "I mean.. yeah."

"So.." he grabs your arm, carefully pulling you up. "C'mere."

Climbing onto your husband's lap, you straddle him and your hand rests on his shoulder to balance yourself. Seb reaches between the two of you, his wrist brushing against your bare cunt when he goes to line himself up with you.

The slightest touch causes you to lean into him; watching him react to you sucking him off was enough to get you worked up.

"All for me?" He looks at you, kissing along your throat.

You hum, teasing him. "Not like I can say it's for your teammate anymore."

Sebastian smiles, his free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him. Your lips parted, his name slipped from between them. As much as he loved to hear you, he didn't want to wake up the sleeping child upstairs - he kissed you, muffling the sweet sounds coming from you.

You liked to be in control up to a certain point, Seb's hands rested on your hips as you bounced on his lap, setting the pace.

After a moment, Seb's hands begin to wander; this man could never settle, not even during sex. His hands move from your hips to the curve of your spine to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip there. You couldn't exactly move, not that you wanted too, but Sebastian forces you down, gently as always, to kiss you. You bite his bottom lip, giving it a gentle pull when he feels you clench around his cock.

"You're - fuck." he moans, making you giggle.

Your hand rests on his jaw, fingers tapping his stubble covered cheek. "I'm what, daddy?"

"You're evil," he mumbles, his hand on your lower back before he flips the two of you. You end up under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

A hand moves to behind his shoulder, your perfectly red nails dig into his pale skin, the marks you left matched the colour of your nails; very festive, you thought to yourself.

Seb's face is buried into the crook of your neck, kissing down to that one spot he knows drives you crazy. "Seb-" you cut yourself off with a moan when you feel his fingers on your clit.

"What was that?" He taunts, watching as your eyes close, back arched, his chest pressed to yours. His lips travel down to your chest, kissing over your tits and as far as he could go. Your nails dig into him once more, Seb feels you clench around him.

"Seb- I'm gonna, fuck-" you mumble and he hums in response, kissing along your jaw.

"Go on, I'm right here baby. C'mon, be good for me." He whispers, he grabs your hand, pulling it to rest on your lower stomach. "Can you feel that, hm? You'd look so pretty with a baby in you - fuck, drove me crazy last time."

You mumble something he doesn't quite catch but from the look on your face, you were going along with everything.

"Please Seb," your lips are on his, begging him for any and everything."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His eyes find yours, "what do you want? You want me to cum in you?"

"Let me make you a daddy again, Seb."

The man groans, your legs tightening around him. "Fuck, okay," he breathes, cheat heaving when you clench around him once more, the tighten knot in your lower stomach comes undone. You find yourself calling his name; the sound and sight of you was something Sebastian never wanted to forget. He finds himself following shortly after you, dropping down on top of you.

Seb moves off of you, pulling out in the process. A soft whimper slipping past your lips at the loss of fullness. He tsks, smiling to himself. His finger drags along your pussy, he watches how you react to his touch, pushing his finger into you to fuck what's slipping back into you.

Before you realize, his hands moved from between your legs to your lips. "Open," he tells you and you do, the man putting his finger between your lips, letting you suck it clean.

He smiles, watching in approval before you let his finger go with a pop. "Good girl," he whispers, holding your jaw when he kisses you.

Seb shifts the two of you, letting you cuddle into his side. His hand rubs along your side, your leg stretched out over his lap.

"You okay?"

"Perfect," you smile, your hand on his chest.

"Well, when we do get up-" he starts but you cut him off, already knowing where he's going. "I'll help you wrap it." You tell him, making him laugh.

"You're the best mommy a girl could ask for," he says and you make a face, laughing. "Doesn't work that way babe."

"Ew, no - I didn't mean like that, you freak."

"Oh shut up," you shook your head, reaching up to kiss your husband.

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#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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jamminvroomvroom · 5 months

Text

777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember.  

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

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i’ve removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

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showtoonzfan · 2 months

Text

Rewatching the Hazbin pilot again, and ya’ll remember how Angel Dust was actually a dick on purpose? He didn’t care about the hotel, he was a selfish candidate who was just in it for the rent, he talked shit about Charlie and Vaggie behind their backs, he was a reckless jackass who didn’t know when to read the room and that was the point. He wasn’t a good person and he especially didn’t like or trust Charlie and Vaggie, so seeing his arc of gaining friends and being compassionate towards the people he didn’t appreciate at first in episode fucking 4/6 of the first season is so wild to me.

It’s so rushed and forced, especially for a character like Angel. It was clear from the pilot that while he had some redeeming qualities, getting along with others would take time. In the show however they manage to woobify him even more than he already was. He’s just so damn sensitive, there’s a big difference between him and pilot Angel. Pilot Angel didn’t give a shit about what other people thought of him, and he owned it. Show Angel is incredibly sensitive and pissed off at every little thing, he’s so whiny and desperate for some kind of approval, which on its own isn’t bad, it’s just too fast, not just that but it’s sudden with no buildup. In episode 2 of the show, he gets sad for some reason when Charlie is complimenting Sir Pen. Then in episode 4, he suddenly cares about her and there’s no explanation to why, same goes for Nifty in episode 6. Like yeah it’s nice to see him care about others but you forget to show us WHY he cares. Viv has gone on to say before that his character involves him putting walls up and blocking people out in fear of him getting hurt, so like….what happened to that lol, cause that isn’t showcased in the show.

Husk has the same issue. This guy is supposed to be a grumpy drunk, in the pilot we know he only took the bartending job for the booze. He’s a messy guy who doesn’t like anyone, and it should have been awhile till he actually started to care about people. Instead he’s like..almost instantly friendly after episode 4. This is the same writing issues Helluva Boss had btw. Viv is so incredibly desperate for you to like her flawed/bad characters that rather than taking the time to actually show them slowly improving, she instantly paints them out to be sweet and expects you to go along with it.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #anti vivziepop #Hazbin hotel #Hazbin critical #Hazbin hotel criticism #Angel dust #hazbin hotel critical

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mypoisonedvine · 8 months

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dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭

he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway

i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲

it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...

𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 | neighbor!reader x dilf!cillian

length: 3.3k

warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity

When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.

It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...

But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.

"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—

He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.

The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.

You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...

Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.

He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.

You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?

You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.

You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."

The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.

“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels…”

He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill. You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy. He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways. He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed. His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram. Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…

And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too. He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.

His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.

Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff. But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then. He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.

hi mr. murphy.

turn on the lamp on the desk.

He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window. Fuck. Fuck!

He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it. He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again. Fuck.

He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience. If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples. “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach. Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.

You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass. You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—

He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.

Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips. A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.

He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him. “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago. Why was something as simple as that so sexy?

Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure. You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me. Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”

You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening. He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart? Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”

You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?

Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled. “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed. “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”

He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks. He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.

You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.

“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me. Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”

You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—

“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”

You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly. He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…

You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair. You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip. He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains. “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”

You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done. When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife. Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.

He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was. He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too. Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.

Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it. He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.

“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat. He opened it, sighing as he looked at them. Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.

His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him. “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”

He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”

He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.

“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”

You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.

She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house. "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.

“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.

“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

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ugotcooneycrossed · 7 months

Text

keep pretending pretty girl • alessia russo

pt2: let you break my heart again

w/c: ~1.4k

alessia is adamant that shes straight, she just likes kissing you sometimes, and she just likes holding your hand, and she only likes it when you talk to her

a/n: OBVIOUSLY based off another song from the queen renee rapp

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“i love you.”

alessia is drunk- her cheeks are flushed, and her speech is slightly slurred, she’s teetering on the edge of completely falling over, the only thing stopping her is the door she’s leaning on.

“no like- seriously, i love, love you.”

you send her a small, tight-lipped smile- your head thumping back against the mirror of the bathroom counter you’re sat on.

it’s cramped in the small room- there’s only so many things you can look at to avoid staring into alessia’s eyes.

still, you avert your eyes from hers nodding your head. gripping the cup in your hands tighter as she inches closer to you.

a tight coil snakes its way into your chest and you sigh heavily.

“i love you too less.”

it’s not a lie- far from it in fact, you love her, you have since you were seventeen.

and alessia loves you too, only in private- when no one’s looking, stealing kisses from you late at night, and leaving you as soon as the sun comes up again.

drunken confessions, promises, and pleas- swearing to love you- and only you.

it’s all in vain though, as soon as the alcohol wears off and her phone pings with a new text from her boyfriend- she’s off without another word.

“i’m going to kiss you now.”

she falls into you- her hands finding themselves on top of your thighs to balance herself, her face inches away from you.

“less… you’ve got a boyf-“

and suddenly- all you can taste is the lingering tequila on her lips, all you can smell is her strawberry perfume, and all you can feel are her hands gripping your thighs tighter.

and you kiss her back again- cause maybe you’re a little drunk too, and maybe, no matter how much you try to stop yourself, you’re pathetic, and you love alessia.

she pulls away suddenly- her lips a little swollen and a dazed look in her eyes, her eyebrow furrows in concentration before a huge grin spreads across her face.

“oh my gosh- i love this song!”

she grabs your hand- dragging you off the counter and out the bathroom.

the flat is cramped with people- a pre-season party thrown to celebrate the start of the new season.

and everyone is way too drunk and way too far gone to notice the way alessia keeps herself attached to you.

she’s swaying with you- despite the fast pace of the song, she has you wrapped up in her arms and rocks you slowly.

“less i think it’s time for you to go home.”

“but I want to stay with you- i love you.”

she’s looking into your eyes now- genuine and raw, but you know how this will go.

she’ll come back with you.

she’ll kiss you a little more.

then, she’ll fall asleep in your bed- you’ll take the couch of course.

and then; you’ll wake up to the sound of your flat door closing, the first rays of the sun filtering through the cracks in your blinds.

you know it’s a losing battle trying to find a way to say no to her.

“okay- come on, let’s get back to mine”

like always you wake up just as the door closes- flopping back onto the couch with a defeated sigh.

now you know the next part will go a little something like this;

she’ll ignore you for a few days.

she’ll make a big deal of missing her boyfriend.

she’ll be on the phone to him all the time.

then, be right by your side like nothing’s happened.

she’ll invite you to hang- and you do, because of course, you can’t say no to her.

and you’ll end up third wheeling.

a vicious cycle you can’t seem to drag yourself out of.

it started when you followed her to UNC you think- young, dumb, naïve- and absolutely infatuate with your best friend.

best friends- who never wanted to be apart, you both turned down pro contracts to go to the US. attached at the hip, co-captains for the tar heels, you did practically everything together.

you were there for her first boyfriend, and consequently her first heartbreak.

as her best friend though.

that’s all you were- and you were okay with that, even if seeing her talk to anyone else brought a bitter taste to your mouth.

and so maybe, one night, she had a little too much to drink- and she kissed you, right on the lips.

“i think i like girls but shhhhh! you can’t tell anyone.”

she whispers it to you- before passing out on your bed.

and the next day when she wakes up- she doesn’t remember the kiss, or she wants to forget it. you wouldn’t bring it up either way.

but then it happens again, and again, and again.

and you’re sucked into an endless loop of alessia kissing you, ignoring you, then acting like nothing happened- only to kiss you again.

then, she’s off signing with united, and you with arsenal- and it stops.

then when the national team calls both of you up- it starts again.

now alessia is with arsenal- and you’re completely fucked.

you’re dead tired, and quiet when you show up to training a couple days after the party- unusual on any normal day, but routine after whatever it is, that happens with alessia.

the blonde girl looks up at you from her cubby when you walk into the room- but just as quickly averts her eyes, picking up her phone and slipping out the room without a second thought.

you roll your eyes at her.

you can almost predict exactly what is happening on the other side of the door.

lotte- who was there to witness the mess you were every day after alessia kissed you at UNC, nudges you.

“you know- you can like, i don’t know, talk to other girls?”

“shut up lotte.”

“i’m just saying.”

she holds her hands up in defence- but the sympathetic smile never leaves her face.

“i’ve tried- don’t you think i have?”

cause you have- really.

not that you remember their names, or their faces.

cause all you really remember from them is that their lips weren’t nearly as nice as alessias, their hands weren’t as soft, and they didn’t know where to kiss you to leave you weak in the knees.

“let me set you up?”

narrowing your eyes at her you go to protest- but she interrupts you before you can speak.

“just try at least, take your mind off of her for one night.”

you arrive earlier than lotte told you to- an excuse to start drinking to calm your nerves.

the restaurant is nice- definitely somewhere for a couple to go, dim lighting and light music floating through the room.

lotte’s friend shows up when you’re already a little tipsy- sitting across from you and smiling from across the table. the conversation between you two is boring, and you stopped listening a while ago.

you order another drink, and then another- then your vision is spinning and lotte’s friend harley, or hayley, or- well you don’t exactly remember her name, ‘cause she’s starting to look a little like alessia, and you’re one more shot away from making a bad decision.

“hey (y/n)- what’re you doing here?”

and she’s starting to sound like her too?

you blink- lotte’s friend coming into focus in front of you and alessia is standing by your table.

“less?”

she’s staring at you now- eyebrows raised and nodding to the girl across from you.

you try to wrack your brain for the name- but alessia is looking a little too good right now and you’re mouth has gone a little dry.

“im lotte’s friend- grace.”

alessia hums at that- her eyes still not leaving yours.

“you are…”

grace- you now remember, questions alessia.

“alessia.”

“great- can i get back to my date now alessia.”

alessia’s eyes still haven’t left yours- she barely acknowledges your date and the atmosphere between you three is tense, you sink down into your seat, eyes flickering between the two, trying to catch your breath.

“sure thing.”

alessia disappears- slipping away and back to what you assume is her boyfriend.

whatever her name is goes back to speaking but you can’t focus on anything.

cause alessia is here.

alessia is here- and you’re supposed to be forgetting her.

but of course- as fate would have it, the blonde texts you a moment later.

lessi to ‘you’

-> bathroom in 5??

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

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