😂😂

Look Into His Angel Eyes

pairing: harry styles x zoologist!youtuber!reader

summary: harry takes his niece to the san diego zoo, and you just so happen to take care of the animal she’s obsessed with. koalas.

warnings: zero knowledge of zoology LMAO, not edited, a few curse words

—

harry had expected a lot more fuss when he went to a very famous, very popular zoo. he expected at least someone — one person! — to notice him or recognize him.

nobody had even given him a second glass.

those kids movies were right. change your har (put on a beanie) and wear sunglasses (because even if it was a little chilly, it was bright), and you were a whole different person!

well, until gemma’s little girl, rosie, who was usually a gem and the best kid ever, started crying. over what, you may ask?

she demanded they find the koalas.

granted, she was only five, but.. he was still worried people would see him and recognize him.

when he had graciously offered to drive rosie to san diego to go to the zoo because gemma simply didn’t have the time, he forgot it was a public, normal people zoo.

so, he asked someone where the koalas were (and then four more people after that on the way there, all of which informed him that he better hurry if he wanted to catch the koala talk, which was supposedly a big hit for some reason), and made his way to the other side of the zoo.

who the hell made this place so big?

—

you’d been living in san diego for five years, since you were eighteen. you’d been working with the koalas at the san diego zoo for that same amount of time.

18 and fresh out of high school, you moved far, far away from your horrible hometown and even more horrible people, and went to san diego to both go to college for zoology and work your dream job.

well, technically, it was an internship at first, but still!

like most little girls, you were obsessed with animals. however, instead of dogs or some other basic animal (though, koalas are still pretty basic, you suppose), you were obsessed with koalas. and then, it never went away.

your mother tried anything to talk you out of it, into a safer career path, she’d say. more secure.

well, fuck secure because you were about to go talk to little kids who were just like you when you were younger and feed a baby koala.

you had also started a successful side career as a youtuber. you made regular videos like vlogs and hauls and whatnot, and also educational videos about koalas. some of your vlogs were at work, such as today.

“so.. we have jess here to record as i do a koala talk. and.. it is officially 1:30, so let’s go!” you exclaim, handing your coworker, jess, the camera.

you pushed open the door (more like gate) and walked out. there was a fairly large crowd today, including the cutest little girl with a pink dress on right in the front row.

you set the crate (don’t yell, it’s a big crate. and it’s simply to take them from their exhibit to the talk area, which is a distance of maybe 50 feet) down on the wooden table.

the talk area was pretty much their enclosure, but instead of a glass wall, it was open and the kids could see better.

you opened the crate and slowly coaxed the bears out. you’d only brought two today. mila, and her baby charlotte (you always called her charlie, though).

once they were out and climbing on the branches, you turned to the crowd.

“hi, guys! my name is y/n, and i’m basically in charge of the koalas here! who here has been to one of my talks before?”

a few hands raise.

“good! well, today, we have a new guest… who remembers what was happening with mila last talk? was anyone there?”

one little boy raised his hand.

“yes, the.. little boy in a blue shirt?”

“jackson!” he told you.

“jackson, sorry. what was going on with mila? for everyone who doesn’t know, mila is that big one right there.”

“she was— she had a baby in her tummy.”

“she did!” you respond enthusiastically. “and a few months ago.. four months ago, actually, she had her baby! who wants to meet her?”

all the little kids screamed me! me! me!

you laughed, “alright, let me grab her.”

you walked over to mila, petting her head as you slowly took charlie away.

“hey, mila.. can i take her real quick?” you ask as if she can hear you, before speaking to the crowd. “mila and i have a special bond, if you ask me. she had her baby right around the time i had mine. so we are both new mothers,” you laugh. “but, anyway! i’ve been with mila since she got here, so she really trusts me. which is why i can easily just..”

you grabbed charlie off of mila, and put her on her shoulder like you did your baby.

“so, everyone, this is charlotte, but i call her charlie! now, i have a very special job for one of you.. but i need someone who will be very careful, because charlie is still a delicate baby.. can anyone hold her for me while i feed her?”

and finally, the adorable little girl interacted. she started jumping and raised her hand.

you walked over to the fence separating you from the crowd, crouching to be eye level with her. “and who might you be?”

“rosie!” she responded. and oh, she had a baby voice and she was british.

“rosie! well, do you think you can hold her for me?”

“yes! yes, please!”

“alright, we’ll get you and dad back here—“

“ehm.. uncle..” her uncle, not father, responded in a british accent.

“oh, sorry! you and your uncle back here. and what’s your name, rosie’s uncle?”

he hesitated, before— “harry.”

your brain slowly put two and two together as you glanced at his tattoos.

harry styles.

“oh, i see,” you respond, “well, let’s get you guys back here!”

you opened the gate they were thankfully standing right in front of, and they walked into the talking area before you shut the gate.

you led rosie to the center, crouching down to her again.

“alright, we’re gonna do this in a funny way. can you stick out your arm for me?”

she did.

“i’m gonna put charlie on your arm, alright? she’s gonna wrap herself around it, and her claws might scratch you, but it’s fine, yeah?”

“yes, ma’am!”

“aw, you’re so polite. alright.. charlie incoming!”

you slowly adjusted charlie to curl around rosie’s arm.

“it tickles!” she squeals with a laugh.

“yeah?” both you and harry — harry styles — respond at the same time.

“alright, i’m gonna grab her bottle! stay here!”

you ran over to grab it, and while you were shaking it so it was ready, you felt something wrap around your leg.

“hi, mila!” you exclaim to the koala wrapped around you.

you carefully walk back over.

“i’m gonna feed her for a minute, and then i’ll let you and your uncle try, yeah?”

“okay!”

you started feeding charlie as you spoke again.

“so, the reason we feed charlie instead of having her feed from her momma, who is clinging to my leg, is because charlie was born a little early and needs a little more nutrients!”

you talked a little more about koalas and their behavior before rosie wanted to feed her. and after a few minutes of that, you glanced to harry.

“you wanna give it a go?”

“sure, why not,” he shrugs.

“charlie seems pretty cozy.. so, i’ll give you mila. she’s a little heavy, though.”

you bent over and took mila off your leg, handing her over to harry.

“hold her like a baby on your hip.. it’s kinda like a.. odd hug! a koala hug, if you will. i’ll grab her bottle.”

you ran over, and when harry began feeding her after you returned, he asked a question.

“so.. why do y’feed mila? i know charlie’s a baby and all, but..”

“that’s a very good question! so, mila is getting a little old, and she was also brought to us injured. that, paired with giving birth four months ago, we just have to give her some more electrolytes… her bottle is actually just white gatorade. we tried green, but she hates it. she’s very picky.”

“well, that’s cause y’gave her green.”

“hey! who has the degree here? yeah, shush.”

“yes, ma’am,” he laughed.

—

once the talk was over, you told rosie and harry to stay back.

you let charlie and mila climb about the branches while you spoke to them.

“i just want to make sure you both are alright with being in a video.. also, you need to wash your hands.. jess should be back with the sanitizer soon.”

“can i ask what video?”

“oh! right, sorry. i’m a youtuber, and i sometimes film my talks to publish and whatnot. i’ll blur your faces, of course. i blur everyone in the crowd’s faces for privacy reasons, but i figured you’d be.. more.. concerned about that than most.”

“you know?”

“i mean.. voice is a giveaway.. i also follow gemma’s instagram, so i recognized rosie,” you shrug. “but anyways, you’re good with the video?”

“yeah, of course.”

you then turned to rosie to answer her bajillion questions about koalas until jess came back with the hand sanitizer.

“so, just use a lot of this, and you’ll be good,” you explain, putting a few pumps into each of their hands.

once they were all clean of koala germs, you told them they were free to go.

rosie ran forward, but harry lingered.

“thank you,”

“oh, yeah. of course. i figured you wouldn’t want koala germs—“

“no, i mean thanks for giving rosie that opportunity.”

“oh! of course. i love seeing little kids who love them as much as me.”

“she’s bloody obsessed with the things.”

“mm, yeah. they’re easy to love. word of advice, don’t shoot her love for them down. it doesn’t exactly work. i mean.. look at me,” you laugh.

“i will keep that in mind,” he smilez. “what was your name again?”

“y/n.. y/n l/n.”

—

a/n: enjoy

BLUE FUNK.

 — A. GRIEZMANN

pairing: antoine griezmann x fem! reader

summary: the couple face the horrors of a bombing attack in paris. the only solution to cease some of the pain away is by being held by their lover.

warning: traumatized reader, lots of angst, cursing, mentions of death and loss, mentions of anxiety disorders, ptsd, and fluff at the end.

word count:  2,7k | ( gif not mine! )

masterlist!

…   A VIOLENT SOUND OF EXPLOSION ECHOED THROUGH THE STADIUM, causing the football players to freeze at the spot as their eyes frantically searched for their teammates and coach. Their faces were painted with confusion, their eyebrows furrowed along with a thumping heart that was beating rapidly inside their chest. The crowd held their breath, their heads turning to each other for any reassurance, but they all mirrored the same reaction — fright. Another explosion was fired outside the stadium, causing a haywire of people screaming blue murder as the commentator ordered an evacuation.

        Antoine’s body became impossibly still, the loud blaring of alarms echoing inside his ears as his eyes darted around manically, searching for his family. He just stood there, his feet glued to the grass while his eyes were transfixed with horror. His chest prickled, squeezing his lungs making him unable to breathe properly. His heart thumped loudly, hammering violently against his chest.

        He seemed to snap out of his daze, his feet going on autopilot as he followed the rest of his team toward the dark tunnel. A rough hand patted his back reassuringly, causing his head to snap towards them, his glistening blue eyes locking with theirs. A pulse roared in his throat, making his jaw tremble with fear as the blood drained from his skin. The sound of cries and screams filled his ears, making him dig his fingers into his friend’s arm, his lips opening and closing without making a sound.

        At the periphery of his vision, he noticed two people walking toward them. His eyes were clouded with tears and he squinted his eyes, moving his head to the side to catch a clear view. He drew a breath he didn’t know he was holding and burst into a frenzied run, collapsing into his parents’ arms. He hid his face into his mother’s neck, his trembling hands clutching her jacket while listening to her soothing words.

        “It’s alright, son. It’s gonna be okay.”

        Just as he took in his mother’s words, another wave of panic settled inside his chest like a tidal wave. His mind wandered to his sister and girlfriend, who were unable to watch the match. He remembered begging [Y/N] to come for his match, expressing how she’s his lucky charm. His sister, Maud, whined about how much they spent time together and wanted a girl’s day, shamelessly snatching her away from her brother to watch a concert instead. Guilt churned into his stomach, the knots tightening every time he breathed.

        Antoine quickly pulled away from his mother’s embrace, his eyes bulging from their sockets. “What about Maud and [Y/N]?” he managed to let out, his voice hoarse while clutching her jacket into a fist.

        His parents shared a worried look before looking at him, making him frown. “Maud is fine, she’s safe. She called us, but [Y/N] wasn’t with her. Maud said they separated when the bombing happened. We tried calling her, but-” Antoine violently shook his head, interrupting his father. “Well, try again! W-We need to get out here, we need to get them.” he snapped, running a hand through his sweaty locks as his mind went through endless scenarios.

        “They’re gonna be okay. How do you even know if they’re bombing at the concert?” His father genuinely asked, his eyes softening. He inched closer to his son and rubbed his back comfortably.

        Antoine clenched his jaw, his chest pains making him draw a shaky breath. He opened his mouth, licking his lips before voicing his thoughts. “They told us where the bombing is, dad. It’s near the concert and we need to get to them-” he stressed, his voice trembling with fear.

        His father shook his head, making his son furrow his eyebrows with confusion. “We can’t leave the stadium, not until we know we’re safe,” he said in a calming tone, trying to ease his nerve, but it seemed to worsen his state.

        Before he could let out a word, the guards evacuated the players into the dressing room, including Antoine, who peered about wild-eyed and looked at his parents, who told him they weren’t leaving his side. He walked with wobbly steps, clutching his chest, his hand turned into a fist as he took a few pats on his chest to cease the agony.

        Antoine was hunched at the bench, his shaky hands dialing his sister’s number. He squeezed his eyes shut, his legs aggressively bouncing as he waited for her voice. A stab of anxiety creased into his gut, making his heart stumble over its own rhythm. His pounding heart was the only thing he could hear and he didn’t notice his sister calling his name on the other line.

        “Antoine?”

        He jumped reflexively, a long sigh escaping from his lips. His hand clutched at his shirt, rubbing his chest with a scowl. He painfully swallowed a lump in his throat before speaking. “M-Maud, are you okay?” he said in a quiet voice, squinting his eyes repeatedly.

        “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. It’s [Y/N] I’m worried about. She doesn’t answer any of my calls.”

        Antoine’s mind went spirally out of control, stuck on his thoughts about his girlfriend lost somewhere in the massive crowd. His eyes moved to the door, his frown deepening at the sight of security guards blocking the entrance. He bit the insides of his cheeks, looking back at his teammates. “We’re not allowed to leave.” he lamented, swallowing his fear as he gave his teammate, who was in the same situation as he was, a reassuring smile.

        “Good, we don’t need another one getting lost. Stay where you are, okay? Don’t do anything stupid, brother. I’m sure she’s fine, I promise you we’re getting out of here alive.”

        Alive. A chill went down his spine, prickling his skin like needles as he let out a shaky scoff, shaking his head at the choice of her words. “Please be careful, Maud. I swear to God if you-” he began to lecture, making his sister cut him off.

        “We’re getting out here, Antoine.”

        The line got cut off and the French man was left in his own thoughts, his mind going a hundred miles per hour. His body grew tense to the point of shaking and he clutched his phone into his hand before placing it beside him. He sniffled, grabbing the side of his head, feeling a headache forming through his skull. He leaned his body against the wall, his eyes closed as he rocked back and forth.

        While Antoine was slowly losing his sanity, [Y/N] was crouched behind a metal staircase, her legs becoming numb as her eyes frantically darted across the screaming crowd. Tears slid down her crimson cheeks as her lips muttered a prayer. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the screams of terror erupting inside the stadium. As much as she tried to hold it in, she couldn’t and her body betrayed her.

        A choked sob emitted from her lips, her hands covering her chest as though trying to stop her heart from escaping. Hard knots formed in her throat, making her unable to breathe. She silently cried, her trembling hands covering her face. Her purse was nowhere to be seen, which meant she couldn’t phone anyone. On top of that, she lost Maud when the first bombing happened. Guilt prickled inside her chest, violently cursing inside her mind for not sticking by her side.

         [Y/N] remembered the sound of the explosion, her life flashing before her eyes as the bomb dropped. She kept Maud close to her side, their hands intertwined as they pushed through the body mass with fear. But somehow, they happened to separate due to endless people pushing and trying to get the hell out of there. She could only pray. Pray that she was safe and sound, away from the horror she was witnessing.

        She sniffled, drawing a deep breath before shakily exhaling. She shifted to the side, moving closer to the stairs, her bloodshot eyes darting across the area. She did a double take, her eyes finally landing on a person laying on the muddy grown, blood surged from his mouth as they held a tight hand on his side.

        She let out a gasp, her chin trembling like a child. She sobbed, praying and hoping it wasn’t Maud. Her body violently shook as she tried to stand up from her painful position. Her unsteady legs managed to pull her up and before she knew it, she was on the muddy ground, holding the stranger’s injury with a loud sob. “I don’t know what to do, I’m so sorry.” she gasped between her cries, looking at the stranger with panic.

        Her hands were stained with blood, pooling underneath her clothes as she wrapped her scarf around their side, adding pressure. She sniffled, her nose red and runny as she tried to keep them conscious. She hiccuped, inching closer to grab a hold of their face. She noticed their eyes were trying hard to stay awake and she slapped their cheek, earning a wince in response.

        The stranger grabbed her hand, a firm but gentle touch making her pause. “Y-You need to get out of here.” they croaked out, their voice raspy and hoarse.

        [Y/N] frowned, her tears trailing down her cheeks. She shook her head, squeezing the man’s hand. “We need to get you to a hospital, sir.” she wavered, her voice cracking. It felt like a fist was closing over her heart, watching the color of the man’s face turn grey.

        An explosion outside the stadium snapped her out of her state, making her quickly turn her head to the arena with dread. She whimpered, her head turning to look back at the man but instantly regretted it when she noticed his eyes closed shut. “No, no!” she cried, shaking him with her blurry vision.

        She cursed, cupping his face with her hand. She clenched her jaw, her trembling hand reaching for his pulse. When she couldn’t find one she broke down into tears, her scream of rage devolved into a sobbing mess.

        “[Y/N]!” She gasped, her body jerking towards a familiar voice. It was hard to see past the tears clouding her vision, but she knew it was Maud. She sat slouched, unable to pull herself upright as she saw her falling to her knees in front of her, grabbing her face before wrapping an arm around her.

        “Thank God, I found you! We’ve been looking for you. You didn’t answer your phone..” she stressed into her ear, gently caressing her hair before pulling away. Maud’s face turned into concern, noticing the blood on her body. Her eyes went wide, her hands searching for any injury. “Oh my, are you hurt?”

        [Y/N]’s eyes blinked slowly, taking her in. She slowly shook her head, her brows shot up with disbelief. She looked down, noticing the dried-up blood etched on her hands. She placed a trembling hand on her shirt, feeling the blood itching her skin. Tears welled inside her eyes at the thought of a stranger dying in her arms. She let out a sharp breath, “He died, Maud. I couldn’t–I didn’t-” her rambling led to her losing her voice.

        She felt Maud’s warm hands cupping her face, her hand pulling her face toward her. “Hey, sweetie. We need to get out of here. Antoine’s already having my head.” she said in a gentle tone, helping her up on her feet as they walked toward a security guard.

        She grabbed onto Maud, her hands clutching her sweater as her eyes were looking down at her shoes, not wanting to watch the horrors of the night haunting her mind. She thought of Antoine, her sweet, loving boyfriend, who was probably worried sick. She longed for his touch, wanting his arms around hers, shielding her from her pain. Worry grew in her stomach, “A-Antoine,” she rasped out, earning Maud’s attention.

        “He’s fine, physically. Mentally? He’s scared shitless.” Maud told her, her face turning into a worried expression, watching [Y/N] shaken form. The pair neared the exit with the guard, who helped them guide them into the car that was waiting for them. Maud let her get inside the car first, placing a blanket around her in the process to keep her warm.

        [Y/N] had her knees closed up to her chest as incoherent mutters emitted from her lips as she stared at nothing. Maud let out a sigh, her heart clenching at the sight of her best friend. She placed a hand on her shoulder, gently removing dirt from her hair. She watched her shift in her seat, turning her body toward her, her lips slowly opening. “I watched a man die, Maud.” [Y/N] whispered, her trembling hands fiddling with the cotton blanket as she blankly stared at Maud.

        Before Antoine’s sister could voice her thoughts, the car stopped. The car door opened, and the same guard held his hand out for [Y/N], giving her a look of sympathy. She sank into her seat, her shoulders jumping to her ears as she looked at the man with an angsty look. She looked at Maud, who gave her a comforting smile.

        Taking the man’s hand, she stepped out of the vehicle. The cold wind ruffled her hair, hitting her skin and making her flinch at the sensation. Her face felt bruised from all the crying and her throat was prickling, almost like needles were piercing into her jugular making her have a hard time breathing.

        Maud held her arm and guided her to her family, who were standing beside an anxious Antoine, whose body was turned away. She gave them a small smile before calling out to them, making them instantly turn their attention to the girls.

        Once Antoine locked eyes with [Y/N], he broke into a fit of cries before bursting into a run. He took her into his arms, his body shaking uncontrollably as his lips mumbled incoherent things inside her neck, choking on his sobs. “I was so fucking worried about you. God, I thought I lost you.” he cried, his shoulders shaking as he felt her arms wrapping around his neck.

        [Y/N] hid her face into his chest, pulling him closer to her body as she inhaled his warmth. She sniffled, slowly pulling away, and looked at him, her face turning into a frown. He mirrored her expression, his scowl deepening at her state. Dried blood was smeared on her left cheek and her mascara was stained under her eyes along with a small bruise on her left eyebrow.

        Antoine cursed, tears sliding down his chin. “Oh my God, is that blood? Are you hurt? Why are you covered in blood, mon amour? (my love).” He hiccuped, his shaky hands cupping her face, trying to wipe the dried blood with his thumb.

        His hand traveled to her body, his hands searching for any injury, but found none. [Y/N] grabbed his hands, bringing them to her lips and planting light kisses. She gave him a tired smile, her bloodshot eyes tinted with a slight glint. “It’s not my blood, honey. I’m okay.” she reassured, caressing his hands with her thumb.

        Antoine sighed in relief, the knot in his stomach ceasing. He drew a deep exhale, blinking away his tears before taking her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, prepping small pecks around her hairline and hugging her close to his body. “I thought I lost you. I thought– you–” he wobbled with his words, shaking his head as he closed his eyes, rocking them back and forth.

        [Y/N]’s stomach churned, her eyes softening. She pulled away from his embrace, but had her arms placed around his waist. Her hand drifted up to hold the side of his neck as her thumb brushed his jaw. He melted into her touch, reaching up to cover his hand with hers. “You didn’t. I’m right here, baby.” she told him, her voice barely above a whisper, but he heard her nonetheless.

        She wiped a tear away with her thumb, her tired eyes trailing over his features with her lips curved upwards. She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before resting her forehead against his. “I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay, Antoine.” she said in a soothing tone, planting another soft kiss on his lips as they sank into each other’s embrace. 

Deserve it (Bob Floyd x reader)

Summary: After working hard, your boyfriend gives you several rewards.

Warnings: older BF Bob, slight daddy kink, definitely some dd/lg vibes in here, older BF Bob eats it from the back okay, fingering, language

“Hey sweet girl,” his voice was deep, the gravel showing off his age. The very sound made your knees nearly buckle.

Not that you had to worry about falling; Bob already had one arm wrapped around your waist, the other draped around your leg, long fingers gently tracing the soft flesh of your bare thigh.

His broad chest was pressed against your back, salt and pepper stubble gently brushing against your temple.

Despite feeling so small in his arms, you had never felt more secure.

When Natasha invited you to her co -worker's barbeque a year ago, you knew it was done out of politeness. You had just moved to the area and her sister, your best friend, wanted to make sure you were actually going out and meeting folks. Nat was doing you a favor, nothing more or less.

You just wanted to get through that night, to beat your anxiety over being the youngest person there by nearly a decade. The most you were expecting that night was a few conversations and drinks.

Meeting a real life prince charming that night was not on your Bingo card.

At first, you thought Bob was just being a good host as he spoke to you. That was the polite thing to do, considering he was in his late thirties and you were just a friend of a friend.

Even when he asked for your number, you tried to be realistic. You had been led on before, had placed your whole heart in someone just to be disappointed.

A year later, Bob had more than proved he was serious about his relationship with you. The age difference didn't make a huge impact, aside from childhood references and social media knowledge.

Bob was patient. He understood you hadn't been in a serious relationship until he came along. He was more than happy to guide you, never making you feel stupid or unworthy.

“Hi Robby,” you giggled, feeling his skin heat up at your special nickname. Only you got to call him that, just like only he got to call you his sweet girl.

Bob continued peppering your jaw with light kisses, his large hands continuing to gently stroke your exposed skin.

“How was your day? Did your presentation go well?” His attention to detail was one of the things you loved most about Bob. He was invested in all aspects of your life.

“It did! They're going with my proposal.” It was impossible to hide your wide grin, especially when Bob spun you around to show the matching one on his face.

You only saw that slightly crooked, honey drenched smile for a brief moment, as Bob pressed his lips against yours.

Despite dating for a year, his kisses still made your heart flutter. His hands would cradle your jaw, practically covering the entirety of your neck. He always bent his knees, not wanting you to strain yourself while trying to reach his lips, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

“Knew they would,” He murmured against your lips, “So proud of you, my smart girl.”

Your knees practically buckled at the praise. Some would have felt it was condescending, you disagreed. You loved that Bob was proud of you. In fact, you wanted it, wanted to be his good girl.

“Stay here, wanna show ya something.” Bob pressed a gentle peck to your lips before walking out of the bathroom.

You bit your tongue, holding back a comment about Bob buying you things. It was a battle you'd never win. Bob spent his money on you and Lego sets, and that was how he preferred it.

So when he showed you the tennis bracelet he had purchased, you just smiled. No comment on how his money would have been better spent elsewhere.

“May I?” He motioned to your wrist. You held it out so he could gently place it on your wrist. While it was simple, you knew the diamonds would sparkle once you were in light.

Once the bracelet was secure on your wrist, you threw your arms around Bob’s neck, head buried in his broad chest.

“Thanks Daddy.”

You could hear him sharply inhale through his nose, the nickname always drawing a visible reaction out of him.

“‘Course baby,” his hands moved from your back down to your hips, “Did you eat breakfast today?”

You nodded proudly, “And lunch!”

Bob dipped his head down to press a kiss on your forehead, “Been so good today sweet girl. Think you deserve a reward for it.”

You looked at your bracelet, confused, “I thought this was-”

Bob shook his head, a near Cheshire like grin on his face, “That's just because I wanted to. So tell me sweet girl, do you want a reward?”

You tentatively nod your head, heat flooding your face, “yes please.”

He's pleased that he didn't have to remind you to use your words. Bob places one last kiss to your temple before spinning you around, forcing you to face the bathroom counter.

Without even thinking, you lean forward, your chest brushing against the marbled counter.

Bob hums in approval. You've learned quickly.

He quickly kneels down, his large hands trailing up your bare thighs. He's able to effortlessly spread your legs apart, pushing up the hem of your skirt to reveal your bare cunt.

“Been such a good listener baby. So proud of you,” he cooed, holding back a chuckle at how your legs trembled at the praise.

You were so sweet, always wanting to be good for him. It had taken you some time, the idea of being with someone who truly loved you and wanted the best for you was a new concept.

You shuddered upon feeling his breath against your core. Unable to see him, all you can rely on is touch. His deft fingers gently parted your soaked folds, sending sparks throughout your body.

Your body lurched forward when Bob's mouth made contact with your entrance.

Prior to Bob, you didn't know someone could be so enthusiastic when it came to giving oral. It was always seen as something required before sex, not an act that could be enjoyed on its own.

Then you met Bob.

Bob, who cared about your pleasure more than his own. Bob, who didn't view sex as a thing, but as an experience.

The bathroom quickly filled with your breathless moans. Your chest was pressed against the counter, your soaked cunt completely at the mercy of Bob’s mouth. His large hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, sure to leave bruises.

Not that you mind. Having a physical reminder that you belonged to him was thrilling. You quickly learned that Bob loved marking you, nearly bordering on an obsession. Hickies, hand shaped bruises, bite marks. He couldn't get enough of your body.

“Taste s’good, s’fuckin sweet,” Bob groaned inbetween lapping up your arousal. A large hand snuck around the front of your body, long fingers quickly finding your clit.

Your hand found the back of his head, clutching his sandy brown locks in hopes it would be enough to ground you. His mouth felt like heaven. Each stroke of his tongue pushes you further and further away from clarity and closer to that pleasurable edge.

“C-close,” you gritted through your teeth. You didn't need to ask him permission, but knew Bob wanted to know when you were near.

He loved to watch you fall apart.

Just as expected, his mouth was replaced by his fingers, your cunt welcoming the stretch. His breath was hot on your ear as he was now leaning over you.

“So pretty like this,” he cooed, “I know, you're so close. Just let go sweet girl, I got ya.”

You gripped the edge of the counter as white hot pleasure coursed through your body.

Bob watched you in the mirror, memorized by how your body reacted to his nimble fingers.

What a long way you had come. At the beginning of this relationship, you were hesitant to allow him to see you in such a vulnerable state, to have him hear you let out such lewd sounds. You would ask for the lights to be off, would have buried your head into the pillow to muffle your sounds.

Now you felt safe to fully let go, to show him all of you.

“There ya go, that's it.” His voice was soothing, a sharp contrast to how his fingers were thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, “Comin’ so hard for me, sweet girl. Fuckin’ love it.”

His hand continued its ministrations on your poor cunt, his lips ghosting over your temple. Your body leans into his, craving more.

Before Bob, the idea of coming twice in the same session was preposterous. Unrealistic.

Now it was the bare minimum.

This time when you came, your legs shook, your brain practically blacking out from the pleasure. You could hear how hard you were coming, lewd squelching sounds vaguely ringing in your ears.

“It's okay, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha,” He whispered against your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist to help you stand up as you recovered from your high.

“Made a mess,” you mumbled, able to feel how much you came on your inner thighs. But now your head was in a pleasure filled haze, only able to vaguely register that Bob was leading you to bed.

“I know, and I'll clean you up. But I want you to lay down first.” The back of your head gently hits soft pillows, your body melting into the mattress. True to his word, Bob returns with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you down.

“You wanna take a nap, sweet girl?” he murmured in between pressing gentle kisses against your forehead.

“But dinner-” you started, only for Bob to gently shush as he helped you out of your skirt.

“I'll move it back. You had a big day, you deserve to rest.”

“Robby?” You hummed, opening your eyes to find him helping you into one of his old T-shirts.

“Whatcha need, baby?” He asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Can….can I keep you warm? While we nap?”

This time it was his turn to blush. Bob nodded, quickly moving to take off his pants and boxers, laying down on the bed. He didn't need any help, watching you come twice had made him hard enough.

With his help, you were able to move into his lap, your hand finding the base of his cock, wrapping a hand around it so it could align with your entrance.

A content sigh left your lips upon being filled with his cock. You laid your head against his chest, your breathing slowing down as Bob traced shapes on your back.

You were always amazed by how well he filled you. So full, unlike anything you had experienced before.

Without thinking, your hips began to lazily grind against his, the movement causing his cock to shift inside you.

Two large hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, stilling your movements.

“Later,” Bob said, eyes still closed, “Want you to rest now sweet girl.”

He was far from done with you. But Bob also knew you would need your energy for later.

Besides, good girls deserve a nap.

And you were his best girl.

------------------------------------------

@lewmagoo @sometimesanalice @charmedkim @thepurplelovewitch @sio-ina-bottle @sugajar @briseisgone @idontcare-11 @cherrycola27 @auroralightsthesky @ryebecca @bobfloydsbabe @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @mxgyver @callsignspark

SKIN

— a blurb from the dadrry universe 🤍

——

Harry's skin must be woven with threads of magic.

There has to be some otherworldly magnetism intricately entwined in his veins that pumps contagious and captivating warmth toward anyone who touches him. Or perhaps there's an underlying spell coursing through his blood that effortlessly soothes any rooted ache or vociferating cry.

It's been said before, but Harry is a natural when it comes to being a lover. He's been by your side through every trial and tribulation that life has cruelly thrown at you. He has willingly taken your pain during grief-stricken times and selflessly put it on his own heart. You've navigated the rollercoaster years of dating, marriage, and parenthood with him, all while watching him grow and adapt into each role with patience and grace.

Witnessing him be a dad has you firmly believing that it's what he was made to do. It was written in the stars.

The house smells of blueberry crepes and homemade bread when you wake from your slumber. A long and uninterrupted slumber at that, which is something that's been a rarity the past few days — well, if four hours of sleep counts as uninterrupted. You'll admit that you haven't missed the lack of sleep aspect of having a newborn.

You slowly pad your way into the kitchen, and you're surprised to find that it's quiet except for the sizzling sound of breakfast cooking. Your tired eyes regard Harry swaying by the stovetop, a spatula in his grasp and his three-day-old baby girl cradled in his opposite arm. She's wide awake, her swaddled body cuddled perfectly in the crook of his elbow as she mesmerizingly stares at him while he skillfully takes a loaf of bread out of the oven. He has on his favorite fleece robe with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair — that's getting quite long — is flatly pushed back from restlessly tossing and turning all night.

It baffles you how every time Harry holds her, she's so content when her skin is touching his. You don't understand it. You're well aware that skin-to-skin contact is important, but it's wondrous how much she loves it with him already.

You stand still in the open doorway and watch him for a few more moments, thinking about how nine months ago, you were observing him from the same spot as he made pancakes with your eldest daughter. Back when the baby girl he's holding now was just a small bump he'd fawn over, growing each month and getting plenty of kisses every day.

Eventually, you refocus to the present and shuffle over to where your sleep-deprived husband is yawning and taking his oven mitt off. You both got a dreadfully short amount of sleep last night, but you think it isn't so bad when mornings look the way they do with him.

"Hello," you greet as you stand next to him.

Harry loosens a golden-brown crêpe with the spatula and sets it on one of three plates. "Morning, baby."

"When did she wake up?"

"'Bout an hour ago," he responds, voice hoarse. "Just little whimpers, so I took her out to the backyard for some fresh air. Then she told me she wanted to make breakfast with me."

You tilt your head, amused. "Oh, she told you that? I didn't know you could translate her baby sounds."

"I can, actually. She also told me she needs milk. Pronto, preferably."

"Here, give me her. She's definitely hungry." You take her from him and kiss her soft, munchable cheeks. "Thank you for making food, by the way."

"That's my job," he sing-songs as you walk over to the couch.

You sit and slide the strap of your silk pajama top down, then remove the white swaddle from her body. She instantly latches onto your nipple, causing you to wince when the dull ache makes an appearance. As you feed her and zone out, you hear Harry plate the food and open the fridge a couple of times before you sense him coming up behind you. He leans his torso over the back of the couch and rests his chin on your head.

Breastfeeding has never been uncomfortable around him. You know he's appreciative of what a woman's body can supply and how draining it is to be the supplier. Often times, like right now, he will silently observe his daughter fall into a state of tranquility as she eats. It's a beautiful thing to be able to nurture another human using your body. Even if it hurts and is terribly time-consuming, the special bond that's formed during it is completely worth it.

"I'm gonna get dressed," Harry says after a while, planting a kiss to your temple.

You turn your head and pucker your lips for the first kiss of the day. He grants you a couple soft pecks that taste like blueberries, each accompanied with an appreciative hum, then leaves with a long and dramatic kiss to your daughter's head.

A few minutes later, Harry comes back just as you finish breastfeeding. He's wearing a patterned jacquard-knit sweater and loose denim jeans with holes by his knees. He stands in front of you and takes her from your arms, kissing and blowing raspberries on her full belly until she's awake and screeching happily.

"Who's ready for tummy time, hm? Is it you?" She coos with a toothless smile and Harry pretends to eat her cheeks. "I think it's you."

He gently sets her on the blanket that's spread out on the living room floor, then gets down on his stomach next to her. You grab your phone from the coffee table and snap a quick picture of them for the sweet memory.

After five minutes of lying with her and tracing every feature of her face, Harry picks her up and begins burping her. Meanwhile, you make your way into the kitchen and grab the plates, then slide the patio door open with your shoulder. You head out to the backyard with Harry following closely behind. You're not too worried about your other daughter since she'll most definitely be cranky if you wake her up this early.

As you set the plates down and sit in the wicker lounge chair, Harry passes the baby over and settles beside you, chewing and swallowing a bite of bread before saying, "Was thinking of going down to the beach later and swimming with the girls. The water is pretty calm today."

You nod and pick at your crêpe. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll probably take a nap or something."

"You don't want to come with us?" he asks, scrunching his eyebrows together. "It's gorgeous out."

"I don't really feel like swimming. I'm not feeling my best."

He leans closer to you and places the back of his hand on your forehead. "What do you mean, love? Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm just tired," you partly lie. "Don't worry about me."

"Hey, look at me." He takes your left hand in his. "I'm gonna worry about you, yeah? You just gave birth a couple of days ago. Gotta tell me how you're feeling mentally and physically, otherwise I can't help you."

"I know, but I swear I'm just—"

A fussy cry cuts you off, and you sigh as you start rocking the baby. Harry soothingly massages the back of your neck, placing a comforting kiss behind your ear.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" he murmurs.

You just weakly smile and hope he forgets about it.

——

The setting of the sun has just begun, the evening sky a bright, beautiful orange that makes the ocean waves glimmer. All of you are on the beach to spend time together before an early bedtime. Harry had made dinner and is now shaking out a blanket so you both can sit on the sand. Your eldest daughter is distracted with her beach toys, humming and talking to herself as she wanders along the shoreline in her swimsuit.

There's no time for peaceful watching, however, because once you plop down on the blanket with the baby snuggled to your chest, Harry sits right by you and clasps his hands over his bent knee like he's about to give you a lecture.

He jerks his chin up and remarks, "You know what I'm gonna say."

It's impossible not to roll your eyes. "Do I have to?" you mutter with a sheepish grin.

"In my book, you're legally required to talk to your husband and baby daddy."

You just groan and prepare yourself to vent about all the postpartum feelings that have been swirling in your pessimistic mind over the past thirty-six hours. "I'm scared of losing myself," you reveal after a heavy exhale. "I remember the first time I became a mom, some days I didn't even recognize myself. It took so much energy out of me, you know? With breastfeeding, being up all night, and trying to get my body back to normal. I guess I just don't want to fall into that dark place again."

Harry nods understandingly. "Do you recognize yourself right now?"

"A lot more than last time," you respond quietly. "I mean, we're both more experienced with how to handle a newborn. That definitely helps."

He swallows, and his serious expression tells you he sees right through you. "Can I know the real reason why you didn't want to go swimming earlier?" he asks with a certain gentleness that could break you if you dwelled on it for long enough.

You sometimes wonder if your skin is made of glass, or if he just knows you well enough to notice all the cracks.

"If I talk about it, I'll start crying."

He tuts and nudges your foot with his. "And what's wrong with crying?"

Shrugging, you defeatedly mumble, "Makes me feel like a little kid."

"You're my wife, not some stranger to me," Harry stresses with a soft laugh. "I hate that you think crying in front of me will put me off or something. Please be vulnerable with me. I don't want you to keep your feelings bottled up."

Your lips wobble, and a teardrop escapes as you look downward. "I don't feel good when I look at my body. I don't think I could put on a swimsuit and have you see me." Harry immediately scoots closer and wipes your tear away, a sympathetic frown on his face. "And I spent so long trying to accept it last time I gave birth," you continue, "and now having to bounce back again seems exhausting."

"I don't expect you to bounce back," Harry replies gently. "I don't expect anything of you that involves changing your body. It's your body. Do whatever you need to do to make you feel good and do it at your own pace, all right?"

Your heart lovingly falters at his statement. "Once you can finally have sex with me in six weeks, it's gonna be terrible and I'll probably cry."

He laughs, and you let one out too. "Is that really what you're worried about?"

"No." He gives you a flat look with a hint of a smirk. "Okay, maybe. I just don't want you to look at me. I could blindfold you or something."

"Can you look at me right now for a second?" Harry asks earnestly. You adjust the baby in your arms and meet his gentle eyes that sparkle in the golden sunlight. "I look at you and see a goddess," he starts, taking your free hand in his. "A mum to two beautiful girls that make me smile and melt every single day. You're my safety blanket. The body that you think I don't want to see is the one that grew life. That's priceless to me."

He begins tracing his fingertips across the light striations on your thigh as he continues, "The stretch marks on your stomach and thighs are because you grew a human, which to me, is the most special and goddamn powerful thing I could ever watch you experience. You've done it so effortlessly that I can't help but fall in love with you more and more each day."

In that moment, you wonder why you were ever doubtful in the first place; how the man sitting next to you can always drag you out of any momentary insecurity with ease.

Harry suddenly stands and carefully pulls you up with him. He then kneels on the blanket and spreads his arms out. "Look at you," he speaks up over the crashing waves. "You're quite literally glowing in front of me, holding our baby girl that you brought into this world, and making my heart pound just as hard as the first day I met you."

"Stop, Harry," you tell him with spiderwebs of heat expanding across your face.

"No, because look at you!" He exhales sharply and brings his arms down. "I worship you. Everything you do and say, every smile and laugh, every time you look at me... I'm hooked for eternity."

You kneel in front of him with tears threatening to spill over. He cradles your cheeks and kisses you with an intensity similar to the evening waves that pelt the shore. Is there a way to thank the ocean for bringing him to you?

As the sun says its routine farewell, you bask in Harry's glow that cascades from the solicitous words he speaks and the tender touches he grants.

Skin that's unquestionably loved by him, and skin that will be loved by you at your own pace.

——

So proud of you h! I can’t imagine how it must felt to let it all out! Im so supportive im bi and use she/her but sometimes if someone says they/them I don’t care! But be proud of her you are! And for my fans please be sure to check their account out its fantastic! <3

if you guys could start using she/they pronouns for me + only call me ‘h’, i would really appreciate it !!! thank you !!! 🌻

Lees verder

Undercover

Angela Lopez x female reader (The Rookie)

“Officer Y/L/N,” Sergeant Grey calls, “Detectives Lopez and Harper want to see you.”

Your eyebrows rise in surprise. “Yes, sir.”

You make your way to the detectives’ desks, swallowing your nerves at the sight of Lopez before standing at attention. “Morning, detectives. Sergeant Grey said you wanted to see me?”

“Morning,  Y/L/N,” Harper greets. “We’ve got a case. We could use your skill set.”

“My skill set? What exactly do I have to offer that you don’t, ma’am? Hard to believe you need a patrol officer’s help. Big case?”

“Don’t undermine yourself,  Y/L/N. You’re smart. You’ve got good instincts. And you know this case inside and out,” Lopez cuts in. You swallow thickly at her praise, forcing the blush off of your face.

“The Tijuana Cartel?” You guess.

Lopez confirms it. “We’ve got an in. You and I are going undercover,” she smirks.

You nod, forcing yourself into business mode. “When are we doing this?”

“Tomorrow night. Which means we have today to prepare you.”

“This isn’t my first undercover op, Detective Lopez.”

“I know. We wouldn’t risk the case if we didn’t have faith in your abilities.”

You nod firmly. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You’ve earned it,” Harper assures. There’s a glint in her eyes that rouses a curiosity in you. She knows something.

You pull a chair up to their desks and review the case with the detectives. Several hours are spent delving into cover stories and planning before it’s time for a break. As Lopez and Harper bicker over what to get for lunch, you let your eyes trail over to Detective Lopez. Her eyes shine as she smiles at Harper, arguing that they get burritos way too often. Dark hair frames her face as she arches a brow at Harper’s claim that they hadn’t gotten burritos all week. 

“What do you think, Y/L/N?” Harper asks.

“Huh? Oh, uh—I, yeah, I’m fine with whatever.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harper says with a vaguely accusatory look as Lopez shoots you a lopsided smirk. 

“Y/L/N and I will go pick up the tacos,” Lopez says, motioning for you to follow her. You scramble out of your seat after staring for a moment too long, ignoring Harper’s laughter behind you.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. After last time…I can’t mess this up. Diaz needs to go away,” you mumble, remembering the barrel of his gun against your temple the last time you saw him.

“He won’t be there. Don’t worry. We’ll get him. If this op goes as planned, we’ll have enough to issue a warrant for his arrest.”

“Thank you, Detective Lopez.”

“You can call me Angela. We’ll be working together pretty closely the next couple of days.”

“Right, of course. In that case, call me Y/N.” Your eyes meet hers across the center console and your stomach flutters. You do your best to ignore it.

You nervously adjust the black blazer that rests over a lace corset top and black pants. As silly as it is, you’re almost nervous for Lopez to see you in something other than your uniform.

A knock on the door jars you from your thoughts. You open the door and smile in greeting before the grin drops entirely off your face.

Angela stands there in a long sparkly black dress. A deep V-neck and long leg slit leaves little to the imagination. Your eyes get stuck at the top of the slit where the beginnings of her hip are exposed.

She clears her throat and your eyes dart up to hers, finding an amused smirk on her face.

“You clean up alright, Y/L/N. Ready to go?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. You ready?”

“Always. Come on. We’ve got a party to attend.”

The two of you were undercover as girlfriends—not that anyone would even notice you at this huge party. Lights flashed and music pounded. A couple was having sex in one corner and a group of guys were playing poker in another.

You kept your arm wrapped securely around Angela’s waist—for the sake of your cover, of course. Her hand came to rest on an exposed sliver of skin on your stomach as the two of you stood near the bar. To anyone else, you looked like a drunken couple lost in their own world. But in reality, it was the perfect vantage point to keep an eye out.

Angela’s fingers pressed firmly into your stomach to get your attention. “There. Carlos. Diaz’s right hand man. Let’s go.”

Quietly, the two of you make your way across the dance floor—getting shoved against each other several times—and make your way down the hallway that Carlos disappeared into. The two of you stop outside the door he went into, leaning against the wood to hear what he was saying.

“Next week’s meeting is crucial. We can’t fuck this up. Anyone strays from the plan and Diaz will gut you like a pig, got it?”

You meet Angela’s eyes as another voice speaks too quietly to make out his words.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of something before you interrupted me. And she was hot.”

Your eyes widen as Carlos’ footsteps approach the door, and you grab Angela’s hand and drag her quickly down the hall. You slow to a semi-casual stroll.

Footsteps coming from the other direction pull a cuss from your lips as you realize that you’re being boxed in.

“Shit, we should call for backup,” Angela mumbles, her eyes darting around in search of an escape. The footsteps are growing close enough to have your heart thrumming.

“Do you trust me?”

“What? Of course I do,” she answers with confusion. Swallowing your nerves, you duck your head down and bring your lips to hers, pushing her back into the wall. She doesn’t kiss back at first, but then she understands your intentions and reciprocates. 

Her hands run down your sides, pulling you closer into her body. The footsteps fade to the back of your mind as you run your tongue over her bottom lip, moaning lowly when she grants access. With one hand against the wall next to her head, the other hand grabs her hip and brings it into your own. Her hand tangles in your hair as she tilts her head, finding a new angle that has the both of you moaning and pushing desperately for more.

“Who are you? You can’t be back here,” a deep, grainy voice cuts in. The two of you break the kiss but your hands remain on each other and your bodies against the wall.

“Uh, sorry, just got distracted,” you tell him with a laugh. “This dress should be illegal,” you add as your eyes rake over it.

“We just wanted some privacy. Only so much you can do before people begin to notice your hands under the table,” Angela says with a smirk. Holy fuck, I’m gonna die right here, right now, you think.

“Well you can’t be here. Get out. Now,” he grumbles.

“Of course. So sorry,” she giggles before pushing off the wall and dragging you down the hallway. You turn around and give the burly man a half-sorry shrug.

The two of you make it back to the car in silence. Adrenaline lights your bodies aflame and arousal has your hearts beating rapidly. Once seated in the car, the air turns thick and awkward.

“Um, I’m sorry if I crossed a line back there. I understand if you need to write me up, or–”

“Stop right there. It was good thinking. If we had been made, we might not be alive right now. Nobody’s being written up,” she promises. “Plus, it was a pretty good kiss,” she adds with a smirk.

“Just pretty good?” You laugh.

“Yeah, not half bad.” Her eyes dart down to your lips and your stomach tightens.

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you again?” You whisper.

“Yes. Definitely. But I think you should do it anyway,” she urges you.

Without hesitation, you lean in and meet her lips once more, sucking her plump bottom lip between yours and drawing a moan from her throat. Her tongue slips into her mouth as your hands roam desperately over her body that's separated from yours by the center console. Her hand dips beneath your blazer, toying with your waistband as her thumb slips beneath it. Her hand moves to the button of your slacks.

“Can I?” she breathes.

You nod, whispering “please” before a knock on the window interrupts your actions. Your bodies jolt apart at a speed that you briefly think might be inhuman. When you see the face that’s smirking outside the car window, your body fills with fear. “Oh no.”

Angela opens the window and Harper leans down, smiling evilly at the two of you. “So. You two have fun? What am I saying? Of course you are. Enough fun to forget that I could hear everything over comms.”

“Nyla–” Angela starts.

“Don’t. Your little secret is safe with me. It’s about time you two stopped making heart eyes at each other and actually did something about it,” she smirks.

Masterlist

Started: 2020-07-31

Updated: 2024-06-07

Top Gun Maverick Fics

As You Wish (a Jake Seresin x Reader Parent Trap AU

When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Lees verder

Thawed

Kimi Räikkönen x sunshine!Reader

Summary: the many times throughout the years that only the warmth of his wife could thaw the Iceman

“He’s just so … cold,” your aunt comments, wrinkling her nose at Kimi’s back as he heads to the bar. It’s the first time you’ve brought him to a family event.

You bristle, prepared to defend your new boyfriend. “He’s not cold once you get to know him. He’s just a private person.”

Your aunt sniffs. “Still, he barely said two words all night. And that nickname — the Iceman! I don’t like it.”

You straighten your spine. “Well I do. His thoughtfulness and loyalty outweigh any lack of words.”

As you speak, you feel your doubts about mismatched personalities fade. Opposites attract for a reason.

Your aunt looks unconvinced, but you pay her no mind. You’re falling for the quiet Finn with a heart of gold. And you won’t let anyone’s disapproval chill that flame.

When Kimi returns, you lean up and kiss his cheek fondly. He looks pleasantly surprised. Let them judge. You see the real man inside.

***

“Smash it! Smash it!” The rowdy groomsman chants as you and Kimi cut into your wedding cake.

Other guests take up the chant, clamoring for Kimi to shove cake in your face per tradition. But you had quietly asked him not to — you don’t want frosting up your nose and ruining your makeup on your wedding day.

Kimi’s eyes meet yours, a silent question. You give a slight shake of your head. His expression hardens with resolve.

In one smooth motion, he whirls and smashes the slice of cake directly into the rowdy groomsman’s face. Icing splatters everywhere. The room goes silent.

“Here you go, since you seem to want the cake smashed so bad,” Kimi says coldly.

The groomsman splutters in shock. You have to hide your smile behind your hand.

Kimi winks at you as he licks icing off his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

Heart swelling, you lean in to kiss your wonderful, cake-covered husband. No one gets in the way of your wishes on your wedding day.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you make your way through the crowds, weaving between mechanics and engineers going about their race day routines. The smells of rubber and gasoline hang thick in the air. You smile and nod at familiar faces, receiving knowing looks in return.

Everyone here knows who you are — the bubbly, outgoing wife of the Iceman himself. The unlikely pairing has been the talk of Formula 1 ever since you started dating a few years ago. You’re warm and chatty. He’s cool and laconic. But somehow, it works.

You find Kimi in the Ferrari motorhome, sipping an energy drink, game face on. His brows are furrowed in concentration, icy grey eyes focused straight ahead. You know not to disturb him right now. This is business time.

Slipping into the seat beside him, you pull out your phone and scroll aimlessly, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. The hustle and noise of the paddock fades into the background.

Finally, Kimi drains the last drops from his can and crushes it in his hand. He turns to you, the stern expression melting away. His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tick upward ever so slightly.

“Morning,” he says quietly, voice gravelly.

You beam at him. “Good morning, love. Ready to go racing today?”

He nods, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, thanks to my very comfy race driver pillow.” You wink.

Kimi snorts, the creases around his eyes deepening. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your temple.

Around you, mechanics and team members try and fail to pretend they aren’t glancing your way, still not used to seeing the Iceman so openly affectionate. But Kimi doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“I’ll see you after,” he says, standing up and giving your hand a squeeze. His face settles back into cool concentration as he strides out to prepare for the race.

You settle in to watch qualifying, heart swelling with pride and love for your Finnish fireball.

***

“Kimi, the stewards want to speak with you about the incident with Perez on lap 37.”

Kimi’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “Typical,” he mutters.

You touch his arm reassuringly. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

He nods, striding off to the steward’s office, race suit half unzipped and hair disheveled. You know he’ll be lucky to escape without a penalty. Kimi has never been one to mince words or hide his displeasure with other drivers. You can only imagine the icy staredown happening behind those closed doors right now.

Twenty minutes later, he emerges looking ready to smash a table. You jump up and hurry over.

“Well? What did they say?”

Kimi’s scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. “Ten second penalty. Ridiculous.” He spits out something in Finnish you’re glad you don’t understand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You drove brilliantly today.”

He shakes his head and stalks down the hall towards the paddock. You scurry after him, nearly jogging to match his long angry strides.

“Forget it. Not your fault the stewards are blind.”

You slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. Immediately you feel some of the tension leave his body. He glances down at you, the hint of a smile breaking through the thunderclouds.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say gently. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner, open a nice bottle of wine ...”

He nods, expression softening. “Okay. Sounds good.”

You smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze. The stormy Finn may have a heart of ice on the track, but you know better. He just needs a little sunshine sometimes.

***

You pause in the kitchen doorway, heart melting at the scene before you. Kimi sits on the living room floor, your baby niece perched happily in his lap. He bounces her gently on his knee as she squeals with delight, the hint of a smile on his usually stoic face.

“Faster Unca Kimi, faster!” She cries, unruly curls flying.

He chuckles and picks up the pace, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Your sister watches nearby, still looking a bit bemused at seeing the Iceman so good natured and playful.

Finally Kimi stops, feigning exhaustion. “Whew, that’s enough for Uncle Kimi,” he says, lifting her up and pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “You’re too fast!”

She dissolves into giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. Your heart feels fit to burst.

“Who wants ice cream?” You announce, carrying in two bowls.

“Me, me!” Your niece starts to squirm in Kimi’s lap, reaching eagerly for her treat.

He stands, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders. “Let’s go have ice cream on the porch, give your mama a break,” he says. She kicks her little legs gleefully.

Your sister shoots you a grateful smile as Kimi carries her outside. You grin and wink. Who would believe it — the Iceman, a big softie for kids. But you know better. Under that cool exterior beats a heart of gold.

***

The crowds pressing around the circuit are suffocating today. Fans shove programs and merch at you for Kimi to sign. One overzealous teenage boy tries to wrap you in an uninvited hug.

Suddenly Kimi is there, gently but firmly detaching the boy’s hands from your arms. His face is thunderous.

“Back. Off.” The boy stumbles away wide-eyed.

Kimi keeps a protective grip on your shoulder as he marches you briskly from the paddock. Once inside the privacy of the motorhome, he cups your face in his hands.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His tone is urgent.

You shake your head, still a bit shaken. “Just got grabby. Thank you for the rescue.”

Kimi exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t like you getting swarmed out there.”

You smile wryly. “Hazards of being Mrs. Iceman.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I just want to keep you safe. Those crowds make me nervous.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ll be okay.”

His eyes bore into yours, icy blue melting into tenderness. “Still. Stay close to me out there from now on. So I can protect what’s most precious.”

Your heart flutters under his intent gaze. You lace your fingers through his, feeling infinitely cherished.

“Always.”

***

“Kimi, your phone is ringing again,” you call from the couch.

He doesn’t respond, gaze fixed intently on the TV as he navigates a difficult turn in his racing video game. The phone buzzes angrily on the coffee table.

With a sigh, you reach for it. The caller ID says “Bane of My Existence.” You frown. That’s the third call from her this week that he’s ignored.

“Kimi ...”

“Hmm?” He pauses the game and glances at you, eyebrows raised.

You hold up the phone. “It’s your PR officer again. Don’t you think you should answer and see what she wants?”

His expression clouds over. “No. Told her not to call me anymore.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You keep your tone light and curious.

He shrugs. “Kept trying to get me to do stuff. Go to parties and all that.”

You bite back a smile, warmth flooding your chest. Your shy homebody of a husband, sought after on the celebrity circuit but wanting none of it.

“Well, I’m glad she hasn’t lured you away yet,” you tease gently.

The corners of his mouth quirk up as he takes the phone from you and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap.

“Don’t worry,” he rumbles, nudging your nose with his. “You’re the only party I need.”

You kiss him softly, heart overflowing. The glitz and glam means nothing to your Kimi. Home is where his heart is.

***

You awake to whispered voices and the smell of something burning. Bleary-eyed, you shuffle to the kitchen doorway.

Kimi stands at the stove, hair endearingly mussed from sleep. He’s scowling down at a frying pan, clutching a spatula like a weapon. Your brother leans against the counter, trying and failing to stifle laughter.

“What’s going on?” You ask through a yawn.

Kimi’s scowl deepens. “Trying to make you breakfast. Not going well.” He prods the blackened lump in the pan disdainfully.

Your brother snorts. “He nearly set off the fire alarm. I got here just in time.”

“I told you I don’t cook,” Kimi mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You pad over and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, love.”

He relaxes back into your embrace. Your brother mimes gagging behind his back. You stick out your tongue at him.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you say, gently prying the spatula from Kimi’s hand. “Just go slow ...”

Soon, the three of you are gathered around the table, eating the pancakes you made together. Kimi’s are a bit misshapen, but edible.

He looks inordinately pleased as you sample his. “Good?”

You beam at him and squeeze his hand. “The very best.”

His rare unguarded smile warms you more deeply than any breakfast ever could.

***

You awaken to the dipping of the mattress as Kimi slips under the covers. The red glow of his bedside clock reads 3:48 AM.

“Everything okay?” You murmur, rolling over to face him.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. You feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm.

“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” His voice rumbles low near your ear.

You nuzzle into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin. “Worrying about the race this weekend?”

He exhales, his breath stirring your hair. “No. Just thinking.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, you lift your head to study his face in the dimness. His eyes shine in the faint light, gazing at you with an intensity that makes your own heart skip.

“What is it?” You whisper.

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his callused fingers infinitely tender. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here. That you’re mine.”

Emotion swells in your chest, words escaping you. You cup his stubbled face and guide his lips down to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you finally draw apart, he pulls you close again, tucking your head under his chin. No more words are needed. You understand each other perfectly in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. Soon his breathing evens out in sleep, and you follow him down, still nestled safe in the circle of his arms.

***

You’re just drizzling the last of the chocolate over the molten lava cakes when you hear Kimi’s keys in the front door. A smile spreads across your face. Perfect timing.

He wanders in a few moments later, hair adorably rumpled, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Mmm, something smells good,” he says, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a hug.

You kiss his scratchy cheek. “Made your favorite for dessert. Now go get cleaned up while I finish.”

He squeezes you tighter, stubble tickling your neck as he nuzzles into it. “Can’t I have you for dessert instead?”

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Go on, you. Plenty of time for that later.”

He steals one more kiss before sauntering off, a grin playing about his lips. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. After all these years, he still makes your heart race as if you’re teenagers again.

When he returns, you’ve set out the seared salmon, roasted vegetables, and the two perfect chocolate lava cakes. His eyes light up.

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best wife ever?” He asks, pulling out your chair.

“Hmm, I think you could stand to mention it more,” you tease.

He takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes pierce yours. “You’re the best wife ever,” he says solemnly.

You lean in and kiss him, happiness bubbling up inside you. However many times he says it, you’ll never get tired of hearing it.

***

“So, what’s it like being married to the grumpiest driver on the grid?” The reporter shoves a microphone in your face, invasive and smug.

You recoil, blindsided. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, he’s not exactly Mr. Personality.” The reporter leans closer. “Does the Iceman thaw out at home or just freeze you out?”

Humiliation burns through you. Before you can respond, Kimi is there, gently moving you aside. His eyes are blazing.

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that,” he growls at the reporter. “You know nothing about our life.”

The reporter withers under Kimi’s icy glare. You feel a rush of gratitude for your protective husband.

Kimi turns to you, face softening. “Let’s get out of here.”

Once you’re alone, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Sorry you had to deal with that. He had no right to badger you about our marriage.”

You lean into him, safe in the circle of his arms. “It’s okay. You came to my rescue like a knight in shining racing gear.”

He snorts. “Hardly a knight. But for you, always.” He kisses you tenderly.

No matter what the media says, your life together is not theirs to define. Your love writes its own quiet story each day.

***

You awake in the dark to a loud crash from downstairs. Heart pounding, you shake Kimi’s shoulder.

“Kimi, wake up! I think someone’s broken in.”

He’s up in an instant, alert and poised to strike. You hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Kimi pushes you behind him and grabs the baseball bat by the bed.

The footsteps reach the landing and a shadowy figure appears in the doorway. Kimi flicks on the light, bat raised menacingly. You both freeze.

It’s Sebastian Vettel, eyes wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa whoa, it’s just me!”

Kimi’s shoulders slump as he lowers the bat. “Seb? What the hell are you doing here?”

Seb runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in town and my rental car broke down outside. I was hoping I could crash here tonight.”

Kimi sighs, shaking his head. “You couldn’t call first?”

Seb grins sheepishly. “Forgot to charge my phone.”

You step out from behind Kimi, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, love. Let’s get some fresh sheets for the guest room.” You turn to Seb. “We’ll figure out your car in the morning.”

Seb’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, I really owe you guys.”

As you make up the bed, you share an amused look with Kimi. Only Seb could turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and get away with it. But then again, that’s why you love him.

***

You’re waiting at the finish line, heart in your throat as the cars scream past for the final lap. Kimi is battling for a podium finish, but has fallen back after a poorly timed pit stop. He’s gaining ground fast, but is he out of time?

The crowd roars as the frontrunners cross the line. P2 … P3 … waiting for P4. Come on, Kimi.

Then you see it, the red and white Alfa Romeo flashing past the checkered flag, narrowly clinching third. You leap in the air, cheering loudly. Kimi did it!

You rush down towards the pits, arriving just as Kimi climbs from his car. His race suit is drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, but his eyes are bright. When he spots you, a grin breaks across his face.

You throw your arms around him, heedless of how sweaty he is. “You were amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

He lifts you off your feet in a bear hug, laughing breathlessly in your ear. The sound sends joy bursting through your veins.

As he sets you down, you cradle his stubbled face in your hands. “I love you,” you say fiercely.

His grin softens to something more tender. He tilts his forehead against yours, heedless of the crowds milling nearby.

“Love you too,” he murmurs.

The cameras flash around you, eager to capture this rare unguarded moment. But Kimi only has eyes for you. Third place has never felt so golden.

***

“Ugh, your wife is so annoyingly positive all the time. It’s nauseating,” the other driver’s girlfriend gripes to Kimi at a race afterparty.

You freeze mid-laugh, stung by her disdainful tone. Kimi’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“I would rather have a positive wife than a miserable cow like you,” he says coldly. “Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm and steers you firmly away. You blink back tears, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Kimi says softly, tilting your chin up. “Don’t listen to her. I love how positive you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for spreading joy.”

You give a watery chuckle. “Really? You don’t find it annoying?”

“Are you kidding? Your light balances out my darkness perfectly.” He punctuates this with a swift kiss. “You keep me from being a constant grump.”

You laugh and swat his chest. “Impossible. No one can tame the Iceman’s grumpiness.”

He smiles tenderly and pulls you close. “You do. Don’t change for anyone else.”

***

You pace the bathroom floor, heart racing. The little white stick sits innocently on the counter, but its result will change everything. One blue line for negative, two for positive.

Three minutes have never felt so long.

When the timer finally beeps, you take a deep breath and turn it over with a shaky hand. Two blue lines stare back at you.

Positive.

Emotions swell within you — joy, nervousness, excitement. You and Kimi have been trying for a baby, but it still feels so surreal now that it’s actually happening.

You hear the front door open and Kimi call out your name. It’s time. Clutching the test behind your back, you go to him.

He must read something in your face, because his brows furrow in concern. “Everything okay?”

Your face splits into a teary grin. “Everything’s perfect.” You bring the test out from behind you and hold it up wordlessly.

Kimi’s eyes widen. For once, the unflappable Finn seems utterly flapped. “You … we ...” He stares at the two little lines, then back at you. “We’re having a baby?”

You nod, vision blurring with happy tears. With a joyful shout, Kimi sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around. His excitement is boyish and uncontained.

When he sets you down, he cradles your face in both hands. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispers in awe.

You put your hand over his, overjoyed tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re going to be the best father.”

***

You fidget impatiently on the exam table, Kimi’s hand clutched in yours. After months of waiting, today is your first ultrasound. If all looks well, you’ll get to see your baby for the very first time.

“What’s taking so long?” You huff. Kimi smiles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Relax, they’ll be here soon.” His calm steadies you, as it always does.

Finally the technician arrives and asks you to lift up your shirt. She squeezes cool gel over your swelling belly and begins moving the ultrasound wand through it.

The screen comes to life, showing grainy black and white images you can’t decipher. The technician frowns, adjusting some dials. Your heart leaps into your throat.

Sensing your distress, Kimi gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Just be patient,” he murmurs.

After a few tense moments, the technician’s face clears. She turns the screen towards you with a smile. “There we are. There’s your baby.”

You gaze in wonder at the little shape filling the screen, tiny arms and legs visibly squirming. Your vision blurs with tears. That’s your child, your little miracle.

Beside you Kimi is utterly transfixed, eyes shining. “That’s our baby,” he whispers reverently.

He lifts your intertwined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, voice husky with emotion. “For this gift.”

You have no words. You simply lean into him, his solid warmth anchoring you as joy washes over you both.

***

You stare glumly at your reflection in the mirror. At eight months pregnant, you feel like a beluga whale. Your ankles are swollen, your back aches constantly, and none of your clothes fit over your enormous bump anymore.

Voices sound from downstairs as Kimi arrives home. You feel tears prick your eyes. You don’t want him to see you like this, a beached whale in sweatpants.

Sniffling, you ease onto the bed and bury your face in a pillow. Kimi finds you there a few minutes later. The mattress dips as he sits down and rubs your back.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You shake your head, embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Gently he turns you over, brushing the hair from your damp cheeks. “Talk to me,” he says softly.

A sob escapes you. “I’m hideous like this! I’ve gotten so huge. You must be disgusted looking at me.”

Kimi’s brow furrows. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his earnest gaze. “Is that what you think? That I find you disgusting?”

Ashamed, you drop your eyes, fresh tears spilling over.

“Look at me,” he says gently. You do. His ice blue eyes pierce yours. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, carrying our child.”

He places a reverent hand on your belly. “You are giving us the most precious gift in the world. How could I not find you beautiful?”

His words pierce your heart. You cover his hand with yours. “I love you,” you whisper.

He gathers you close, dropping feather-light kisses over your face. “And I love you. Always.”

You cling to him, feeling foolish and so very loved.

***

A contraction rips through you, more intense than any before. You cry out, squeezing Kimi’s hand desperately.

“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaches, face taut.

You gasp air into your lungs as the vice grip on your insides finally releases. Kimi dabs the sweat from your brow with a cool cloth.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Our little one will be here soon.”

Even through the haze of pain, his voice anchors you. Your Kimi, always steady as a rock.

Too soon, another contraction wrings a ragged shout from you. Kimi never leaves your side, letting you nearly crush his hand as you ride out the agony.

“I can’t … I can’t do this ...” you sob.

Kimi presses his lips to your temple. “You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here with you.”

His faith buoys you, even as your body is wracked with wave after wave of excruciating spasms. Your world narrows to the circle of his arms.

Then finally, miraculously, comes the thin, piercing cry of your child. Your exhausted tears mingle with joyful laughter.

Kimi cuts the cord with shaky hands, eyes shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. When they lay the squalling, pink bundle on your chest, the universe crystallizes to this one perfect point.

Your family, whole at last.

***

You awake in the small hours before dawn, reaching across the cool sheets only to find Kimi’s side of the bed empty. Padding down the hallway on silent feet, you peer into the nursery.

Your breath catches in your throat. Kimi stands over the crib, your tiny daughter cradled against his chest. One large hand gently supports her downy head.

He’s speaking softly to her in Finnish, too low for you to understand. But the love shining through his voice brings tears to your eyes. Your tough, taciturn Finn transformed into a doting father.

As he lays her tenderly back in the crib, you hear him murmur in a whisper, “Don’t worry little one, your isä will always protect you. I promise you that.”

He tucks the blanket snugly around her and brushes a feather-light kiss over her forehead. The tenderness of it makes your heart ache.

You slip silently back to bed before he notices you, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and daughter. But the image stays seared in your mind.

When Kimi joins you a few minutes later, you turn and press your face into his chest so he won’t see your tears of joy. His arms come around you reflexively.

“You okay?” He rumbles.

You nod, a lump in your throat. Your family is so very blessed.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you push your daughter’s stroller through the chaotic maze of the paddock. She’s only six months old, wide-eyed at all the commotion.

Mechanics pause to coo over her, their grease-smudged fingers surprisingly gentle. PR people stop to fuss and take photos. Word has spread — the Iceman’s baby girl is here.

Kimi strides over, stooping to drop a kiss on your head and tickle his daughter’s tummy. His race suit is on, grey eyes intense and focused.

“Sure you don’t want me to take her while you concentrate?” You ask.

He shakes his head, a corner of his mouth quirked up. “I need to see my two favorite girls before I drive.”

Your heart melts. Kimi scoops her up, and she clutches at his nose and gurgles. Nearby, you hear shutters clicking madly. The Iceman undone by a baby — it’ll be all over the press tonight.

But Kimi only has eyes for his daughter, face soft in a way it never is before a race. With a deep breath, he cuddles her close and murmurs something in Finnish before handing her back to you.

You kiss his cheek. “Go show them how it’s done, Daddy.”

He winks and strides off towards the pit lane, determination in his stride. Your daughter waves a chubby fist as he disappears from view.

No matter how many races he wins, now his best trophy waits for him at the finish line. His family.

***

“Must be lonely married to a man called the Iceman,” the reporter says slyly. “He’s not known for being warm and affectionate.”

Anger flashes through you. How dare this stranger imply your marriage is lacking.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you reply sharply. “Kimi is very attentive and loving in private.”

The reporter raises her eyebrows. “But his public image ...”

You cut her off. “That’s all it is — an image. Kimi deserves more respect than tired old stereotypes.”

Your voice softens as you glance to where Kimi is chatting with fans, his body angled protectively towards you.

“There is no one kinder or more loyal than my husband. He cherishes our family greatly, he just doesn’t flaunt it to the world.”

The reporter looks taken aback by your fervent defense. You almost feel sorry for her. She’ll never truly know the man behind the Iceman legend. But you do and you won’t tolerate anyone maligning him.

This one was from another request 😌 It’s a little shorter than usual but still so fun!

on display

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando’s BeReal goes off during sex. Chaos ensues.

Warnings: 18+ bondage, hickeys, etc.

You really never thought you’d be into this kind of thing. Lando never really seemed like much of a freak- but here you were! Tied up like a fucking bull who had been caught by a cowboy or something. You were completely splayed out- arms tied to the headboard and legs tied to the poles of your bed frame.

“You ready for me baby?” Lando climbed up onto you- taking his head from out between your thighs.

“Yes please,” you grinned up at him.

His gentle, passionate thrusts into you didn’t really match the 50 Shades of Grey-esque set up you had. But you didn’t mind- you liked taking him like this. After dating for three years- you would let him fuck you however he so pleased.

Suddenly- just as he was starting to pick up the pace- both of your phones loudly buzzed simultaneously. Lando was quick to reach for his- even though he didn’t dare take his dick out of you.

“OMG y/n it’s Bereal. This is a prime opportunity” he busted out laughing on top of you.

You knew his friends would find it hilarious to see his sex POV plastered all over BeReal, even though he didn’t have that many followers. He made sure to cut any of your more… sensitive areas out of the photo, but it was still pretty clear what activity was going on. Your arms were visibly bound- and it looked like someone had smashed blueberries all over you from how many hickeys you had.

You two could not stop laughing- so it was useless to try and keep fucking. His phone was buzzing incessantly as reactions from his friends rolled in.

“Oscar says we should let him join next time” Lando was barely able to get the words out he was laughing so hard. “And Logan thinks that we should never harm his innocent eyes again with a post like this.”

“Oh my gosh let me see what else they’ve said!”

Daniel’s comment simply read “Good for you!” while Lewis was checking to make sure Lando had the birds and the bees talk.

You loved that Lando wanted to show you off- even in such a scandalous way. It turned you on and made you love him more at the same time.