#University of Miami football | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 5 months

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Welcome to Miami

Lando Norris x Messi!Reader

Summary: a crazy weekend in Miami leaves Lando with his first Formula 1 win, one very pissed off football legend, and a baby-shaped surprise set to arrive in just about nine months

Warnings: 18+ content and unplanned pregnancy

Note: based on a request by @glitterquadricorn that I may have ended up going a little overboard with

You wake up with a pounding headache, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the hotel room window. As you blink your eyes into focus, you realize you’re not in your own bed. The sheets are unfamiliar, the decor is generic and impersonal.

Panic starts to set in as you try to reconstruct the previous night’s events.

The space next to you is still warm, indented from where someone else was recently lying. You glance down at your lack of clothes and tousled hair. Yep, definitely had a one-night stand.

Wracking your brain, you vaguely recall meeting a charming stranger at the club, letting him buy you drinks until everything became a blur of flirtatious banter and wandering hands.

Your phone is on the nightstand and you grab it, hoping for some clues. A new contact catches your eye: “Lando 🍆”. You snort at the stupid name and obvious (if cringey) innuendo. At least he has a sense of humor.

You wonder what kind of guy calls himself Lando these days.

As you get dressed and leave the hotel, already trying to put the awkward walk of shame behind you, fragments of the night come back in flashes. Lando’s warm blue-green eyes crinkling at the corners when he laughed. His skilled hands roaming over your body. The way he whispered filthy praises in your ear between searing kisses.

You shiver, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment that you’ll never see him again. But a one-night stand is just that — one night. No need to dwell on the best sex you’ve had in … well, maybe ever.

When you arrive home in the early afternoon, your dad greets you at the door with a knowing smirk.

“Have a good night, mija?” Leo teases, taking in your mussed appearance.

You roll your eyes, not wanting to give him any details. “It was fine.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

Over the next few weeks, you put Lando out of your mind completely. Your life goes on as normal — training with the University of Miami’s football team, doing promotional appearances, and spending time with family and friends.

But then one morning about a month later, you wake up feeling nauseous. You brush it off as a stomach bug at first.

When the queasiness persists for several days along with strange cravings and bouts of fatigue, a nagging suspicion forms in your mind. You dig through your bathroom cabinets until you find an old pregnancy test leftover from a scare last year.

Your hands are shaking as you wait for the result. This can’t be happening. You were so careful with Lando, you’re almost certain … but maybe not careful enough.

The little plastic wand displays two solid pink lines. Positive.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you.

How could you have been so stupid? Getting knocked up from a drunken one-night stand with a guy you can’t even remember properly. What are you going to do? How will you tell your parents? What about your athletic career?

A million thoughts race through your panic-stricken mind as you try to process this massive, life-altering situation. You want to call your best friend and cry, but you’re almost too overwhelmed to formulate words.

Part of you wants to be furious at Lando, that reckless idiot who came inside you so carelessly. But you know you’re just as much to blame. You obviously consented, you just can’t recollect the exact circumstances.

God, why did you let yourself get so sloppy drunk and make such terrible decisions?

You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. Okay, first things first — you need to confirm this with a visit to the doctor. And if it’s still positive, you’ll have to figure out your next steps. Tell your family, decide whether to keep the baby or not. That’s still your choice, at least.

Your mind keeps drifting back to Lando, wishing you knew more about him than just a stupid contact name. Was that even his real name? What did he do for a living? Where was he from? Was he ready for the responsibility of being a father? Not that it mattered — you barely knew him. For all you knew, he could be married or secretly twisted.

No, you reason with yourself, trying to shut down that line of thinking, he seemed like a good guy. At least in the moment. Even through your tequila-soaked haze, you got a feeling of genuine warmth and kindness from him. Maybe you’re both just a couple of random people who made a reckless mistake after having too much fun together.

You take another breath and stand up, your mind made up. First, you’ll go to the doctor and get an official test. Then you’ll deal with everything else from there. There’s no use panicking until you confirm this is actually happening.

But deep down, you know this cheap little test is accurate. You’re pregnant with a virtual stranger’s baby. And in that moment, feeling so lost and overwhelmed and terrified, you can’t help but wonder — who the hell is Lando?

***

You sit on the couch, hands trembling as you clutch the results of your blood test. Tears stream down your face as the weight of the situation crushes down on you.

How could you have been so reckless? So stupid? You’re supposed to be a role model, setting an example for young girls. And now you’re pregnant from a one-night stand with some random guy.

The shame and fear swirl inside you until you can barely breathe. You need to tell your dad. He’ll be so disappointed in you. But you can’t keep this a secret, it will only get harder as your belly grows.

You hear the front door open and your dad’s familiar footsteps. Bracing yourself, you call out in a shaky voice, “Papa? Can you come here please?”

Leo wanders into the living room, his expression turning to immediate concern when he sees your tear-stained face. “Mija, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, bottom lip trembling as you try to find the words. “I … I’m pregnant,” you finally choke out.

His eyes go wide with shock. “Pregnant? How …” Realization dawns on his face. “Was this from that night you came home ...” He doesn’t need to finish the question.

You nod miserably, a fresh wave of tears falling. “I’m so sorry, Papa. I was drunk and stupid and … and I don’t even know who the father is, not really.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Just some guy I met at a club, his name was Lando or something. I barely remember anything!”

To your surprise, your dad’s expression softens into something like sympathy instead of the anger or disappointment you expected. He moves to sit beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Shh, it’s alright mija. I’m not happy about this situation, but I’m not angry at you either. We all make mistakes.” He pauses, seeming to think something over. “This Lando guy … was it around the time of the Miami Grand Prix in early May?”

You nod again, not understanding the connection. “I think so, why?”

A look of recognition crosses your dad’s face. “There’s a young driver in Formula 1. I’m a bit of a fan actually, been following his career when I have the chance. It’s not the most common name.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the pieces fall into place. The drunk recollections of warm color-changing eyes and a charming smile. The weird name followed by that stupid eggplant emoji in your contacts.

It all fits.

“Oh my god … you think the father is Lando Norris? Like, the Formula 1 driver?” Part of you wants to dismiss the idea as ridiculous, but another part feels an undeniable certainty that your dad has hit the nail on the head.

Leo nods firmly. “I think it’s highly likely. He was in Miami for the race that weekend. Reckless kid probably went out partying after finally managing to win.”

There’s a hard edge to your dad’s voice at that last part. You can’t really blame his protectiveness — finding out your daughter is pregnant from a one-night stand, especially with a relative celebrity, can’t be easy for any father.

“What am I going to do?” You whisper, scared all over again at the massive upheaval your life is facing.

But your dad just pulls you into a tighter hug, his touch reassuring and strong. “We’ll figure it out together, mija. Don’t worry. If this Lando character is the father, he’ll damn well take responsibility. I’ll make sure of it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting your dad’s words soothe you. He’s right — you’re not in this alone. And if Lando Norris really is the father, well, he signed up for this whether he knew it or not.

“Thank you, Papa. I was so scared to tell you, but I shouldn’t have been. I’m lucky to have you.” You hug him fiercely, fresh tears spilling but this time born of reassurance instead of fear.

Leo just holds you close, his embrace full of fatherly love and protection. “Always, mija. I’ve got your back, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

After a few moments, he pulls back, his expression turning more stern. “And as for this Lando kid, he better step up and be a man about this situation. Because if he tries to abandon you or this baby ...” He lets the implied threat hang in the air.

You can’t help but give a watery laugh. “I have a feeling he won’t want to mess with you. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

Your dad allows a small smile at that. “Smart boy. Now, do you have a way to contact him? I’m sure someone can get us his information if not.”

You think for a moment, then remember — your phone contacts. You grab your cell and pull up the fateful entry.

“Here, just this number with the stupid eggplant emoji.” Your cheeks flush a little as you say it.

Leo arches an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. Instead, he takes out his own phone and dials the number, his expression hardening with determination.

“Right, listen up, Lando Norris ...” he begins, leaving no room for argument.

You take a steadying breath as your dad starts laying down the law to the man who knocked up his precious daughter. For the first time since staring at those two pink lines, you feel a tiny kernel of hope taking root.

No matter what happens, you’re not alone in this. Your dad has your back, and Lando — well, Lando better prepare himself. Because when Leo Messi demands you take responsibility for your actions, you don’t dare say no.

***

Lando jolts awake to the harsh buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. He blinks blearily at the harsh red numbers of the alarm clock — 2:51 am. Who the hell is calling at this ungodly hour?

He fumbles for the phone, squinting at the unknown number with a +1 country code. Probably a spam call from across the pond. He’s tempted to just silence it, but something makes him swipe to answer with a groggy “Hello?”

“Lando Norris?” The deep voice on the other end is vaguely familiar, but Lando can’t quite place it in his sleep-addled state.

“Yeah, this is him. Who’s this?” He tries and fails to smoother a huge yawn.

“This is Lionel Messi.”

Lando’s eyes shoot wide open, any lingering drowsiness evaporating like he’s been doused with ice water. Leo freaking Messi is on the phone with him? His brain scrambles to comprehend what’s happening.

“I … uh … Mr. Messi, sir. This is … I mean … wow. What an honor!” He cringes at his own stammering, feeling very much like a star-struck fanboy rather than a fellow professional athlete.

Messi’s voice remains calm but firm. “I’ll get right to the point. Do you remember a young woman you slept with recently? The night of the Miami Grand Prix a few months ago?”

Lando feels his stomach drop out. Suddenly this phone call is taking on a very different context than just a casual chat with a sports legend. He racks his brain, trying to recall the handful of women he’d casually hooked up with around that time.

There was that petite blonde from the club after sprint qualifying … no, she was just a make-out in the back alley behind the valet. The pair of Brazilian bombshell twins he’d brought back to his hotel room on Saturday … no, they made him get tested after that escapade just to be safe.

Then it clicks into place — the gorgeous young woman with a killer smile that he’d met at the LIV Nightclub afterparty. They had danced and drank together all night until everything descended into a sweaty, semi-public grope fest in one of the VIP booths before he convinced her to come back to his suite.

He remembers her gasping and whimpering his name as he pounded into her from behind. Remembers the way her nails raked down his back when he made her come apart with his tongue. Remembers being too drunk and worked up to put on a condom before sinking back into her tight, wet heat and ...

Oh shit.

“I … yes, sir. I think I know who you’re referring to,” Lando forces out, his mouth incredibly dry.

“Good. Then you’ll remember getting my daughter pregnant that night as well.”

Lando actually feels the blood drain from his face, a rushing sound filling his ears. He must have misheard, right? There’s no way Leo freaking Messi just said Lando got his daughter pregnant!

“I … I’m sorry … your what?” He sputters out dumbly.

Messi’s tone takes on a steely edge. “My daughter. The young woman you slept with, she’s my daughter. And now she’s pregnant with your child.”

The room starts to spin. Lando tries to force air into his lungs, feeling like he might actually pass out. “Oh my god, I … I had no idea! We were both so drunk, I never would have … oh fuck, I’m so sorry, sir!”

“Sorry doesn’t really fix this, does it?” Messi’s voice is like sharpened steel. “You got my little girl pregnant from some drunken fling and now she has to deal with all of this.”

“I … yes, you’re right. Completely right.” Lando presses trembling fingers to his throbbing temples. This can’t actually be happening, right? “What … what do you want me to do? I’ll do anything, whatever you need!”

There’s a weighted pause on the line before Messi speaks again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“First, you’re going to meet with me and my daughter in person so we can discuss this situation. Then you’re going to take responsibility and be a part of this child’s life, understood? Step up and be a man about it.”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, of course!” Lando is nearly shouting into the phone, desperation and panic clawing at his throat. “Whatever you want, sir. I’ll be there. Just tell me when and where.”

“Good. I’ll have my people set it up and send the details to your team.” There’s a hint of grudging approval in Messi’s voice now, like he’s satisfied Lando appears to be taking this seriously. “I suggest you get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”

The line goes dead before Lando can respond. He stares dumbly at the silent phone in his hand for several long moments, trying to process everything.

Leo Messi’s daughter.

Pregnant.

With his baby.

Holy shit, what has he done? What is he going to do? How did one reckless, drunken night blow up into such a massive catastrophe?

His head is spinning and he can feel his overtaxed body starting to shut down from the shock and stress of the harrowing phone call. He tries to take a deep breath, pushing away the panic and leaning back against the pillows.

Sleep. Right. He needs sleep if he has any hope of dealing with … with all of this. But how can he possibly rest now?

Lando’s eyes start to drift closed despite his whirling thoughts. His body has other plans, sucking him under into blessed unconsciousness as he slumps fully back onto the mattress.

The last thing he’s dimly aware of is his phone slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor, followed by his own body going entirely limp.

When Lando finally does manage to sleep, it’s to the terrifying vision of Leo Messi’s furious face snarling “you got my daughter pregnant” over and over again behind his closed eyelids.

***

The flight from Nice to Miami feels like it takes an eternity, but also happens in a terrifying blur. Lando can barely remember booking the first available ticket, throwing some clothes into an overnight bag, or making his way to the airport in a daze. He runs on autopilot, his mind spinning in frantic circles.

He got Leo Messi’s daughter pregnant. How is this his life?

A private chauffeur is waiting at the baggage claim when Lando deplanes in Miami, holding up a printed sign with his name. Of course Messi would have people to handle something like this.

Lando swallows hard and approaches the stern-faced driver. “I’m Lando Norris. Uh, Mr. Messi is expecting me?”

The chauffeur gives him an appraising look but doesn’t respond beyond a curt nod. He turns on his heel, expecting Lando to follow.

The drive to the Messis’ palatial Miami mansion is silent and tense. Lando fights the urge to fidget anxiously, his knee bouncing until he forces himself still.

Get it together, man. This is it.

All too soon, they’re pulling through an immaculate gate onto perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the huge home. Lando takes a steadying breath as the driver gets his bag from the trunk.

Then the front door is swinging open and there’s Leo Messi himself, looking as intimidating as Lando has ever seen the football icon. His expression is stony, jaw clenched tight as he measures Lando up.

Before Lando can even open his mouth, Messi beats him to it, tone leaving no room for argument.

“I don’t like you.”

The words are like a kick to the gut. Lando forces himself to hold the steely gaze, giving a small nod.

“I understand, sir. I’ve made a terrible mistake and you have every right to be angry with me. I’ll accept whatever consequences I have to.” His voice is strong, despite the way his heart is jack-hammering in his chest.

Messi holds the intense eye contact a moment more before giving a short nod of what might be begrudging respect. He turns and heads inside, clearly expecting Lando to follow.

The foyer opens into an elegant living room where a familiar woman is sitting on one of the plush couches.

You.

Lando’s breath catches in his throat as memories from that hazy night come rushing back. Your skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved rhythmically to the music. Your throaty laugh and sparkling eyes as you flirted shamelessly over your fourth … no fifth … mojito. The velvet silk of your hair brushing his face as you ground down against his lap.

He swallows hard, trying not to stare. The situation is awkward enough without dwelling on the admittedly incredible sex that caused this whole mess. Though he can’t deny the sharp spike of pure physical want that hits his gut at the sight of you.

Your eyes are wide and nervous as you take him in. “Um … hi.”

“Hi,” he replies simply, feeling incredibly self-conscious under the weighty stare of your legendary father.

An agonizing beat of silence stretches between the three of you.

“Well?” Leo prompts impatiently, making you both jump. “You got my daughter pregnant. What do you plan to do about it?”

The blunt words make Lando’s face flush hot, but he forces himself to meet your father’s stern gaze head-on.

“Whatever I need to do, sir. I’ll take full responsibility. Financially, emotionally, being there for the child … anything you need from me.” He pauses, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. “That is … if the mother wants me to be involved as well?”

He looks at you then, trying to convey his sincerity. Despite the casual nature of your hook-up, he meant what he said — he will step up and do the right thing for this kid.

His kid.

You seem to consider his words for a long moment before giving a small nod. “Yes … yes, I’d like you to be involved if you’re willing. This is as much my responsibility as yours. We … we can figure this out. Together?”

The uncertain note in your voice tugs at something in Lando’s chest. For all your father’s bluster, you just sound like a young woman in a scary, overwhelming situation. Just like him.

“Together,” he agrees firmly, returning your nod. “We’ll, ah, we’ll be good co-parents. For the baby.”

The words feel strange leaving his lips, but also fill him with a sense of resolve and determination.

Leo watches the exchange between you both like a hawk, his expression unreadable. When he speaks again, his words are measured but dismissive.

“Get it sorted out then. Find a way to make this work. I don’t care about the details as long as you two take care of my grandchild properly.”

With that, he gives a curt nod and turns to exit the room, leaving you and Lando to your own devices. The sudden lack of his intimidating presence seems to deflate the tension somewhat.

You let out a long, shaky breath, shooting Lando a wry look. “He’s … taking this about as well as could be expected, all things considered.”

Lando can’t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that, some of the nervous knot in his stomach loosening slightly. “Yeah, I’ll say. Your dad is legitimately terrifying, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you say with a small smile.

An odd sense of camaraderie falls over you both then — two young people bonding over how Lando quite literally knocked you up. It’s almost enough for him to relax a bit.

Then you glance down at your still-flat stomach and all humor drains away. “So … co-parents, huh? You really want to do this?”

Lando doesn’t even have to think about it. “Of course. It’s my kid too, yeah? My responsibility, like I said.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not exactly how I pictured becoming a father, but … I’m in this all the way. For the little one’s sake.”

Something in your expression softens at his words and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “Thank you, Lando. That … that really means a lot to hear.”

Before he can think better of it, Lando closes the distance between you and pulls you into an impulsive hug. You stiffen for just a moment before relaxing against him.

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay, you and me,” he murmurs as he holds you close. “We’ve got this, baby mama.”

You stiffen again and pull back sharply at the words, a look of mortification on your face. Lando frowns in confusion until a familiar gravelly voice cuts through the room.

“Lando Norris, I swear if you ever call my daughter that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Leo Messi is back, leveling Lando with a look that would liquefy steel. The driver nearly swallows his tongue, flushing scarlet.

“Y-yes, sir! Of course, sir! It, ah, it won’t happen again!” He stammers out, mentally making a note to permanently delete those words from his vocabulary.

Messi just grunts in response, apparently satisfied, before retreating from the room once more.

You’re staring at Lando with wide eyes and badly-suppressed laughter. He groans, dropping his face into his hands.

“Why did I say that? God, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, that smile breaking free. “This is just … all a bit surreal, isn’t it?”

Lando peeks through his fingers to meet your gaze, unable to stop the rueful grin that spreads across his own face.

“Just a bit, yeah.” He drops his hands with a defeated chuckle. “But your dad’s right — we’ve got to take this seriously for the little one.”

You nod, smile fading into a look of grim determination. “We do. Which means you can’t call me baby mama if you actually want to stay alive to see your child.”

“Deal,” Lando agrees readily, feeling lighter than he has since your father first called to drop that bomb on him.

Maybe co-parenting won’t be easy, but somehow he gets the sense you two just might be able to figure it out. And with the entire weight of Leo freaking Messi’s protective rage motivating him, Lando is damn sure going to try his best.

***

Ten Months Later

The vibrant Miami sun beams down on you as you carefully lift Maia out of her stroller, cradling the bundle of joy in your arms. Your daughter’s wide, curious eyes dart around, taking in all the sights and sounds of the paddock for the first time.

“There they are! My two favorite girls,” Lando’s voice rings out as he jogs over, already wearing his team gear in preparation for the drivers parade. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to Maia. “And how’s my little princess doing today?”

Maia lets out a delighted squeal and you can’t help but smile at the pure adoration on Lando’s face as he gently brushes a finger over her chubby cheek. “She’s been an angel all morning. I think she knows this is a big day for her first race.”

“That’s my girl,” Lando grins. “Going to be a little racer before we know it.”

“Lando! There you are, mate.” The Aussie accent cuts through the paddock as Lando’s teammate bounds over. “I’ve been looking everywhere for … oh wow, is that her?”

Oscar’s eyes go wide as they land on Maia, taking in her tiny features with an almost comical look of awe. “She’s … she’s so small,” he says dumbly.

“What did you expect, she’s a baby,” Lando scoffs with a roll of his eyes, though his tone is good-natured. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Oscar asks eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overexcited puppy.

You laugh and carefully transfer Maia into Oscar’s waiting arms, guiding his hands to properly support her head. “Just watch the grabby hands. She’s got a pretty strong grip these days.”

Oscar nods rapidly, looking a bit intimidated as he gingerly cradles Maia against his chest. But the instant she lets out a little gurgling coo, his face splits into the biggest, most boyish grin you’ve ever seen.

“Hey there, little Norris,” he murmurs softly, instantly transfixed. “I’m your favorite Uncle Oscar.”

“Oi, who said you get to be the favorite uncle?” Another voice cuts in as Carlos saunters over, immediately zeroing in on the form in Oscar’s arms. “Is that her? Dios mio, she’s gorgeous!”

Without hesitation, Carlos plucks Maia right out of Oscar’s hold, completely ignoring the other driver’s sputtering. “Well hello there, princesa. Don’t worry, your Tío Carlos has got you.”

Maia blinks up at the new face peering down at her, tiny fists waving as if to grab at the Spaniard’s perfectly coiffed hair. Carlos simply grins and nuzzles his nose against her cheek, seemingly not caring one bit about any damage the squirming infant in his arms can do.

“Are you seeing this?” Lando mock-whispers to you, looping an arm around your waist and leaning in conspiratorially. “How are we supposed to get her back now?”

You stifle a giggle behind your hand, watching in amusement as Carlos and Oscar descend into bickering over who Maia’s favorite uncle will be — only to be interrupted as another figure appears beside them.

“What do we have here?” Daniel Ricciardo pipes up with a wide grin, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “Don’t tell me you two are fighting over babysitting duties already?”

“Something like that, mate,” Lando chuckles, reaching out to clap Daniel on the shoulder in greeting. “Up for putting your name in the hat too?”

“You know it!” Daniel agrees easily, quickly sidestepping Carlos to peer down at Maia with a wide smile. “Hey there, little monkey. Look at you all bright-eyed and curious.”

Amazingly, Maia seems entirely unperturbed by all the fussing going on around her. She simply blinks placidly up at each new face, soaking it all in like a tiny sponge. At one point, she even lets out a delighted squeal and flails her arms — prompting a fresh round of cooing from the three drivers clustered around her.

“Aw, I think she likes me best already,” Daniel declares with a wink, gently booping Maia’s button nose and making her giggle.

You shake your head in fond exasperation even as Lando tugs you tighter against his side, completely content to bask in the scene. That is, until Daniel’s next words nearly make you choke.

“So just how old is this little angel?” He asks idly, eyes still trained on Maia’s sweet face. “Four months now?”

“Three months and one week,” Lando answers automatically — only to tense a split second later, mouth falling open in realization. “Oh. Oh.”

The smug grin that slowly spreads across Daniel’s face is borderline devlish as it clicks into place for everyone exactly when Maia would have been … well, conceived. A heavy silence falls over the group, disturbed only by Maia’s happy gurgling as she remains oblivious to the sudden shift.

“Well, well, well,” Daniel drawls, dark eyes dancing with mirth as he bounces Maia playfully in his arms. “I think someone got a little overexcited celebrating his win last year, didn’t he?”

The only response is a strangled squawk from Lando as his face flushes bright red — no doubt remembering exactly how the two of you celebrated his first time on top of the Formula 1 podium. Meanwhile, Carlos and Oscar openly gape at the revelation, eyes nearly bugging out of their skulls.

“Don’t you dare,” Lando manages to choke out, stabbing an accusatory finger in Daniel’s direction. “We are not having this conversation here.”

“Why not?” Daniel shrugs blithely, gently jostling Maia to the crook of his elbow in a way that has her giggling. “It’s a perfectly natural thing, nothing to be ashamed about. That must’ve been one hell of a victory lap!”

The innuendo hangs heavily in the air, made all the more mortifying by the lecherous waggle of Daniel’s eyebrows. Lando, meanwhile, looks like he’s two seconds away from spontaneously combusting on the spot.

“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters through gritted teeth, dragging a hand over his rapidly reddening face.

Before Daniel can respond with another quip, however, you quickly step in — scooping Maia out of his arms with a stern glare. “That’s enough of that, I think.”

Daniel wisely snaps his mouth shut at the warning in your tone, offering a cheeky salute instead. “I’ll lay off … for now.”

With a wink and a last jaunty grin towards a still-sputtering Lando, he bids the group farewell and heads off to prepare for the race. Oscar, seemingly remembering you’re all congregating in a very public place, manages to pick his jaw up off the ground long enough to clear his throat awkwardly.

“Right, well … I need to go, you know, do driver things,” he mumbles before beating a hasty retreat, stumbling over his own feet in his haste.

Carlos, for his part, has the audacity to start outright cackling the second Oscar is out of earshot.

“You never fail to entertain,” he manages between wheezing gasps, wiping away mirthful tears from the corners of his eyes.

Lando flushes even deeper, if possible, and shoots you a helpless look. You simply raise an eyebrow, letting him squirm for a moment before taking pity.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” you chide Carlos lightly, shifting Maia higher on your hip. “Unless you want to be the one explaining the birds and the bees to her when the time comes?”

That seems to sober Carlos up somewhat, his laughter trailing off into a few more chuckles as he waves a hand dismissively. “You wound me, amiga. As if I would corrupt the ears of such an innocent little one.”

You give him a pointed look and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m done.”

With a roguish wink, Carlos reaches out to gently pinch Maia’s cheek — earning a bright smile from the bubbly infant.

“You’ll learn soon enough that your papá can be un poco loco sometimes, princesa.”

“She really doesn’t need to learn that at all, thanks,” Lando grumbles, shooting his friend an exasperated glare.

You can’t help but shake your head fondly at the pair of them, even as Lando tucks you snugly against his side. For all their bickering, it’s abundantly clear just how enamored all the drivers are with Maia already.

The tender moment is interrupted, however, by a voice calling out for your boyfriend from across the paddock.

“Lando, we need you over in the garage. The parade will be starting any minute now,” a press officer arrives to herd him away.

Lando exhales a put-upon sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of Maia’s head before meeting your gaze apologetically. “Duty calls, I suppose. You’ll be okay here with my littlest fan club?”

You wave him off with a warm smile. “We’ll be fine. Just focus on having a good race, yeah? Maia and I will be cheering you on.”

The brilliant grin Lando flashes you is enough to make your heart flutter. “How could I do anything else with my two favorite cheerleaders?”

With one last lingering kiss, he tears himself away — offering a half-hearted wave to Carlos before disappearing through the paddock. An oddly serene quiet falls in his absence, the crowd breaking up to get settled before the race.

Carlos seems to sense your pensive mood, stepping up beside you to gently bump his shoulder against yours.

“You know, he really has changed since becoming a papá,” the older driver muses, casting a fond look down at Maia. “Far as I can tell, it’s done wonders for him.”

You smile softly, bouncing Maia gently as you watch Lando’s retreating back weave through the controlled chaos of the paddock. “He’s been … amazing. And he loves Maia more than life itself. My father complains that he has run out of things to threaten Lando over, which is the biggest compliment coming from him.”

Your daughter simply blinks at the two of you for a long moment before that sunny smile you’ve grown to adore stretches across her face, little fists waving happily in the air. You can’t help but chuckle at her antics, brushing a knuckle over her soft cheek.

As the bright Miami sun shines down and anticipation slowly builds in the background, you feel a surge of nearly overwhelming contentment. No matter what twists and turns life throws your way from here, you decide, you’ll always be able to find your way back to moments like this.

So much has changed in the course of a year, but you truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if Lando still can’t quite look your father in the eye.

2K notes · View notes

afterglowsainz · 4 months

Note

hi sweetheart !!

can you write like the reader not being popular like jude, like nobody knows her, shes in college while hes a footballer:(( so so cutesy jude wouls probably make her famous AF!!!?

end of the world | jude bellingham

summary: no one knows who jude is dating until her college graduation

fc: candela gallo

a/n: the idea for this came to me in a dream so thanks for requesting it <3

—

📍miami, florida

liked by judebellingham, bffusername and others

🔒yourusername spring breaaak🌴

view all comments

bffusername just a few more weeks😩

yourusername i’m hanging by a thread i swear 😭

frienduser1 so so beautiful

yourusername love you💗

frienduser2 mine🥰

yourusername always💘

frienduser3 trip with me next 🤪

yourusername already booking it

judebellingham prettyyy 😍

judebellingham i miss you

yourusername miss you! see you tomorrow🤍

liked by vinijr, camavinga and others

judebellingham good match and nice close💪🏽 now a few weeks of break before coming back

view all comments

username SIR BELLINGHAM 😮‍💨

username HALA MADRID

username the man of the match🙌🏽

🔒yourusername 😍😍😍 (liked by judebellingham)

brahim un crack!

username and we had a belligol 🔥

username you were born for this fr

liked by bffusername and others

realmadrid.wags jude bellingham was spotted in miami during spring break with a misterious girl, we still don’t know her name or who she is

view all comments

username omg WHAT

username this is the day i died

username someone finder her quick!

username i need the fbi twitter girlies on this asap

username can’t believe i just lost my husband😩

username jude girlies how are we feeling?

username like it’s the end of the world as we know it

📍madrid, spain

liked by judebellingham, vinijr and others

yourusername i also study guys! (and watch my boyfriend kick a ball for 90 minutes)

view all comments

frienduser1 obsessed with your aesthetic

yourusername i’m obsessed with you🫵🏽

judebellingham mate who got you smiling like that like

yourusername removing you from my followers as we speak

judebellingham don’t even

bffusername imma steal you from your man if you keep this up🤭

yourusername omg i’ll leave him for you!

judebellingham 🤨🤨🤨

judebellingham BACK OFF 🤺🤺🤺

liked by yourusername, fedevalverde and others

judebellingham 3 more points for the go🙌🏽

view all comments

username LET’S GOOOO

username what a player💪🏽

camavinga 🤍🤍🤍

username king you dropped this 👑

username MY HUSBAND LALALA

username crack💯

vinijr killing it bro!🤍

🔒yourusername 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 (liked by judebellingham)

liked by judebellingham, bffusername and others

🔒yourusername long story short, i survived

view all comments

bffusername FINALLY A GRADUATE 🦅🦅🦅

yourusername THE SOUND OF FREEDOM FR

frienduser1 congrats my love! 🎉

yourusername thank youuu💓

vinijr congratulations y/n!

yourusername thank you viniii🤍

frienduser2 taylor knows mate😔

yourusername she wrote that song about my college experience i swear 😩

judebellingham smartest girl i know! congratulations my love❤️

yourusername you’re making me blush🤭

liked by frienduser1, frienduser2 and others

realmadrid.wags jude bellingham was seen at the universidad complutense de madrid graduation ceremony very close to a mysterious girl, we think it might be the same one he went to miami with

view all comments

username okay but the way he’s looking at her??

username my man is down BAD

username but who is sheee??? i need answers

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username NO WAY HE WAS AT MY FREAKING UNIVERSITY

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username i’ve been looking for her non stop i have no idea who she is

username i don’t think she’s famous or anything

liked by yourusername, brahim and others

judebellingham in love with this city🤍

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username ohhh the hard launch is hard launching

username that first pic did things to me😶‍🌫️

username finally we know!!!

username this is UNREAL i can’t believe this is happening

username jude i thought we were faithful to each other😔

username okay but she is GORGEOUS😍

username why is it that we finally know who his girlfriend is and her account is PRIVATE?

username she just made it public!

username 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

yourusername in love with you❤️

judebellingham 🥰🥰

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baddawg94 · 2 years

Text

Miami Dolphins 🐬

1983-2000

1984 League MVP 🏆 (48 passing touchdowns)

1994/95 Comeback Player of the year

9x Pro Bowl

3x First Team All Pro

4x 2nd Team All Pro

1998 Man of the year

1983/84 Rookie of the year

Led the league in passer rating in 1984

1st All America at PITT

Led PITT to the Sugar Bowl vs Georgia his junior year and the Cotton Bowl vs SMU his senior year

7,905 passing yards and 74 touchdowns, with 64 interceptions in his 4 year college career with the University of Pittsburgh

5x led the NFL in passing yards

3x led the NFL in passing touchdowns

61,361 passing yards and 420 touchdowns in his 17 year career with the dolphins 🐬

Played Quarterback for the Dolphins 🐬 in Super Bowl 19 vs 49ers in 1985

2006 Pro Football 🏈 HOF

College Football 🏈 HOF

#dan marino #miami dolphins #nfl #nfl legend #nfl throwback #nfl history #pro football talk #pro football hall of fame #university of pittsburgh #Dan the man

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coco-loco-nut · 6 months

Text

Miss Americana

Pairing: Lando Norris x American!Reader

Summary: Moments with Lando and his silly, American, girlfriend

TW: AMERICA! RAHH🦅

a/n: i wrote this super quick bc the ideas were bombarding me at work and it is not proofread. it’s also silly and stupid as an apology for my last oneshot which seemed to break y’all.

requests are open! masterlist part two

—————————————————

Lando didn’t mind you were American, in fact, that might be why he loved you. You poked fun at his britishness, even trying to copy his accent. It’s almost like a joke with you two.

“Baby, where are you?” Lando whines from his gaming chair, needing attention, having texted you a minute ago asking you for cuddles.

“I’m declaring my independence!” You yell back, your voice coming from outside. He pauses his game and trudges towards your voice. The two of you are spending time in your American residence, near Miami. He spots you near the pool, holding something out.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He spots your camera recording.

“Happy December 16th!” You grin, dropping a box of tea into the pool. Lando’s brows furrow, thinking back to the book he read about the Revolutionary War. Needing to have some sort of reference for your jokes, he bought a book with the basics to read on the flights to races.

“Oh… I get it. Babe, we aren’t even IN Boston,” Lando says after a minute, and after you start laughing, he does too. Lando quickly grabs your phone and pushes you in the water too.

“Rude,” you huff, grabbing the tea box and climbing out of the pool. If it weren’t for your grin, Lando would be running away. You grab your phone and Logan pops out from behind the bushes as Lando’s phone dings.

“Wait, I thought you were recording,” Lando says, his eyes narrowing at Logan.

“Nope,” you pop the p and walk inside, the video quickly going viral and spreading around the drivers group chats. Logan makes his quick escape, leaving Lando to wonder why he agreed to associate with Americans.

———

“GO GO GO GO! YES! TOUCHDOWN!” You yell, seemingly oblivious to the cold. Lando surprised you with a trip to your alma mater’s biggest football game of the season. He asked Logan for help with the surprise, but the Floridian didn’t mention, well, how much of a cult the school was.

“Logan said it was going to be cold, but not this cold,” Lando grumbles, taking a cute pic of you cheering.

“Babe, he has terrible taste in schools, why would you take his advice? Also, this is the northeast, it’s obviously going to be way colder than Austin will be next week,” You snort before joining in on a chant. Lando was only slightly regretting choosing seats right beside the student section, however, he could get behind the drinking. Especially tailgating. When you drug him out of his nice warm bed to hang outside the stadium at 9am with your old college friends, he was skeptical. All it took was one freshly grilled meal and a beer to turn that around. He is planning on creating an American tailgate for the race next week in Austin.

“American universities are... something else,” Lando smiles at you. Seeing as you are only one year removed from college, you had plans for the weekend.

“Just wait until we go to the bars later. Oh! And the frat party tomorrow, it’s family weekend and my cousin is getting us in,” you smile back at him. It was indeed a long, drunk, weekend, but Lando couldn’t help but admit that he would be more than happy to come back for more games throughout the year.

———

Austin was something else the next weekend. You and Logan were quick to jump on board with Lando’s idea for a tailgate, and you all gathered at the Airbnb that you rented the night before the race, right after qualifying. The team’s socials loved the idea as well as the Formula One social media team, so you paid for nothing as the drivers and friends gathered at the Airbnb for your and Logan’s tailgate. You made sure there were multiple coolers full of alcohol, soda, and water while Logan manned the grill. You wore a NFL football jersey while Logan repped a Miami Dolphins jersey.

“Why are those two arguing,” Max asks Lando, observing you and Logan fight about whose team is better.

“Either college football or pro football,”

“American football, mate,” George says, standing on the other side of Max.

“All I’m saying is that you have TERRIBLE taste in teams!” You huff in Logan’s direction. He rolls his eyes, turning his focus to the grill as you grab a beer. Lando, who is sporting your alma mater’s football jersey, walks over to the two of you.

“She’s not wrong, Logan,” Lando chuckles as the blonde boy throws his arms up in the air in frustration. Honestly, the only thing that can top the bickering between the both of you is when you pull out the jell-o shots and people start grabbing food.

Half an hour later, you turn on the projector to the screen, a Disney logo behind you. You take position in front of the screen, remote in hand as a microphone. The crowd turns their attention to you. Lando’s lips twitch up in amusement.

“I just got three things to say. God bless our troops. God bless America. AND GENTLEMEN. START YOUR ENGINES!” You yell as you hit play on the remote.

“Okay, focus. Speed. I. Am. Speed.” The voice says over the screen. You and Logan decided to culture everyone, making the end of the tailgate partly a movie night. Eventually, everyone finds a seat in the lawn chairs scattered in front of the screen. Lando grabs your hand and kisses the back of it when you sit down.

“I love you, y/n,” he smiles softly as he nurses his beer.

“Love you more, Lan, but not as much as America,” you chuckle, teasing him. He playfully rolls his eyes, knowing you are jesting.

“Are you always so… American?” Daniel laughs as he sits in the open chair beside you.

“Shut up before she drunkenly sings the national anthem,” Lando hisses, cringing at the time he mistakenly took you to a karaoke pub in London on July 4th. Honestly, he should’ve known better.

“I hate you all,”

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #lando norris imagine #america #logan sargeant #silly goose

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blue-aconite · 8 months

Text

the offside rule || j.h.s

Summary: Jake learns that his girl is crazy about football, but not the kind he expected.

Warnings: jake being a sweetheart, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Authors Note: This is inspired by @roosterforme's Sundays Are for the Boys and @teacupsandtopgun's Jake and Flick universe. This is also very self-indulgent and somewhat based on parts of my life.

“What are you doing?” Jake emerged from the bathroom, only to find his girlfriend on the couch, watching what looked like soccer.

“I’m watching football, what does it look like?” She didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she reached for the beer bottle on the coffee table.

Jake didn’t know how to respond. He knew what soccer was, he wasn’t an idiot but he never knew that his girl enjoyed the sport.

“Soccer, baby. It’s called soccer.”

Jake knew it was the wrong thing to say as she turned around, an unimpressed look on her face.

“I’m going to forgive you this time. But in the future, for your information, it’s called football. Not your ridiculous term soccer.” She was all business, a sharp edge to her tone that Jake hadn’t really experienced in their relationship so far.

There was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as serious as her tone suggested though. Jake flopped down on the couch next to her, plucking the beer out of her hands. “Is this MLS?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes as she looked him up and down. “MLS is a shit league. It only got interesting since Messi signed for Inter Miami and it’s still shit. You know, we call it the retirement league because it’s where all the greats come to wind down and just kick around.”

“Hey!” Jake protested. “Doesn’t it have a somewhat good reputation?”

She shook her head. “Baby, I love you but you’ve been greatly deceived.” She patted his cheek, opening another beer, seeing as he had stolen hers.

Jake grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. Granted, his soccer knowledge was limited but he thought that MLS at least was a popular league.

“What’s this then?” He pointed to the screen where the game was playing.

His girl clapped excitedly, tossing the cap onto the table. “This is the greatest league in the world. I give you the Premier League.” She dramatically spread her arms, as if showing him something of great importance.

In a way, Jake guessed that she was. He had no idea she was this passionate about this but he found it endearing that she did.

“I recognise that, it’s England, yeah?” Jake was 80% certain he was right but he could also be wrong. Like he said, his knowledge of soccer was limited.

“Yes! PL is played in England and it’s hands down the most popular and watched league. But there’s obviously others as well.”

He was a bit intrigued and Jake also wanted to know more about something that made his girl this excited. “Others?”

“Oh, you’ve got La Liga for example, and Ligue 1. And then there’s Serie A and Bundesliga. My dad used to watch a lot of Eredivisie too. He was a lifelong fan of Ajax.” She quieted down a bit at the end, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her dad.

Jake pressed a kiss to her shoulder, hand finding hers. He gave a supportive squeeze. He understood now why this was so important to her.

“Did you guys watch a lot together?” He asked as the game seemingly was paused, the players leaving the field.

“Yeah. He took me to my first game when I was 4. I barely remember it but I remember the feeling. And he coached my team for as long as I played.”

That surprised Jake. “You used to play?” It wasn’t something that had come up but he guessed it was somewhat of a sore subject.

“From the age of five til I was fifteen, maybe sixteen,” she paused. “Uh, I quit playing when he got sick. He wanted me to continue but it just wasn’t the same. It was our thing and then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and..”

Jake pulled her into his arms, lips pressed to her forehead. “Baby, why haven’t you told me about this before? I would have loved to know more about football if I knew it meant this much to you.”

She smiled when he called it football and Jake counted it as a small victory. “I honestly don’t know. You’re more of an American football fan and I just figured you didn’t care about this.”

“I would have cared if you told me. Hell, I know you don’t really care about the Cowboys but you still hang out with me when they play. And wear the jersey.”

She laughed then, leaning back from his embrace but kept their hands intertwined. “I wear the jersey because I know it gets you all hot and bothered.”

“Well, that’s definitely a perk. You do look very good in blue.” Jake kissed her then, hands sneaking under her shirt to trace her skin.

She was blushing when they pulled apart and Jake grinned, proud to be the one to make her that way.

“So is Ajax your team?” He asked, playing with the hem of her shirt.

“No. As much as I respect and enjoy Dutch football, the Premier League always called to me more. And then I fell in love with Manchester United.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up, teasingly pinching her sides. “Fell in love, huh? That means I got competition?”

She rolled her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for the Red Devils.”

“Good. Is this them then?” He gestured towards the screen, where the game had resumed.

“No, they play Aston Villa tomorrow. This is Newcastle vs Arsenal.”

Jake watched as the team in black and white kicked the ball back and forth. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. I know nothing.”

She launched into the game, explaining what was happening as well as informing him about the rules and terms. Jake tried his best to keep up but figured he was going to have to do some independent studying to catch up.

If this was important to his girl, it was important to him. He watched as she kept on talking, gesturing back and forth with her hands, eyes alight with excitement.

“But there must be leagues outside of Europe, yeah?” He asked after learning that the ones she had rambled off earlier were all based in European countries.

“For sure, but those are the most popular ones. And considering how much of an impact the Champions League, Europa League and Conference League have, it’s difficult for leagues outside of Europe to compete.”

Jake’s mind was reeling, trying to piece all the information together. “Wait, Europa League and Champions League? Conference? Where’s that?”

“All of those are played by teams in Europe. You qualify for UCL when you win your league in your country, and the second tier goes on to play in the UEL and third tier in UECL.” At Jake’s confused expression, she smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, this is way overboard. How about we keep that for another day and we just keep to the basics for now?”

Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes please.”

She handed him another beer, smiling softly.

“So, do I get a Manchester United jersey? It’s only fair, I got you a Cowboys one.” Jake asked.

He was comfortably leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Initially he had tried to get her to snuggle with him but quickly found out that she wasn’t going to sit still while watching the game.

“Babe, you’ll get a jersey when you deserve one. Maybe earlier if you can explain the offside rule to me.”

He was screwed then. “Never mind. I’ll wait.”

“It’s really not that difficult. A player would be seen as offside if their entire body is in front of the last defender of the opposing team, on the opposing team's half.”

Jake tried to imagine what it would look like but his mind came up blank. “You’re just speaking gibberish, that doesn’t make sense.”

She smiled softly, a gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a football fan. Just you wait.”

“I can’t wait. I’m also very excited to see you watch your team play.”

The game was now over and she climbed into his lap, hands finding the back of his head. “Oh, you’re in for a wild ride.”

Making the most of their position, Jake grabbed a hold of her thighs as he stood up, ignoring her squeal as he headed towards the bedroom. “How about I give you a ride right now?”

Two months later, when Jake officially got the offside rule right, a package was waiting for him on the kitchen table when he got home.

His heart swelled as he pulled out a bright red Manchester United jersey, embroidered with his callsign on the back. There was a note inside the box as well and Jake laughed as he read what his girlfriend had written.

Now you’re a real football fan. Glory glory Man United!

Ps. Come find me ;)

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” He called, jersey in hand as he stalked the house.

Her laughter echoed through the house. “Come claim your prize, cowboy.”

Taglist: @wildbornsiren @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @honkytonk-hangman @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster@notroosterbradshaw @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics @septemberrie @somenamewithepineapple @seresinsweetie @crescentwolf @seresinhangmanjake @waklman @roosterforme @rosiahills22 @dempy @i0veless @ilovewriting06 @kmc1989 @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming @hangmanssunnies

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #fe writes #fic: the offside rule #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin

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moonshynecybin · 12 hours

Note

if you could typecast the grid as stereotypical americans who would be who? (idk if i'm making any sense) but for example bezz gives very cali stoner energy.

god this one is hard because they are all so stunningly european. truly. american men do not act like that. the jean tightness alone. ummm. okay let’s start with the easy ones

pecco: pecco is from a suburb like three hours from chicago and he tells everyone he’s from chicago. framed bulls jerseys on the wall etc

pedro acosta: someone said baseball player from north carolina and yeah. i can imagine bumping into this guy at cookout. like he’s giving charlotte/macklenberg county. serving gastonia. he went to nc state with my friend thomas and he has strong basketball opinions.

bez: califoniaaaaa you’re right. of the surfer or skater variety… either way he’s in baggy as fuck clothes skulking around outside kicking it whenever he can. eating a sandwich

vale: new jersey. my trashy italian american clown princess

mav: screams boston 2 me

aleix: too european im being real. insane amounts of european. kind of breaking my brain sooo im not assigning him one

enea: gay ass san fran guy with his lil dog. walkin around the castro the dog gets hot. he picks up the dog. gay pride flag in the background. i cheer. he’s drinking espresso that costs fourteen american dollars. that’s like 12.50 euro google is telling me

casey stoner: this bitch is from vermont

luca: right across the river from vale in new york citayyyy… i think he would thrive in an environment where he doesn’t look insane wearing something very elegant and a lil dressier. like you can’t really do that in idk. most of the south or midwest or southwest or— anyways we’re sending him to nyc

jorge martin: i COULD see him hanging out in florida but like slutty florida not trashy florida. just on a beach in miami in the tiniest shorts imaginable with aleix comma also there europeanly. idk

joan mir: LOUSIANA. need to take his pissy ass to the bayou.

jack miller: attended the university of alabama and was perhaps too invested in SEC football culture. i would end this by saying roll tide for comedy but that would make me gag here in real life. anyways

marc and alex. hmmmmmmm. i could see outside austin texas as that seems 2 be hallowed ground for marc lol. alternatively. kentucky. horse boys. this is another hard one i’m open to suggestions here cuz nothin is jumping out at me tbh

franky: seems into mindfulness in a way that is giving seattle. runs a bookstore with REALLY good staff picks. big ass armchairs HUGE used book section that smells good. sitting there petting the store cat in a flannel with the sleeves rolled up. sipping his coffee. works nights at the local bar sometimes. who said that.

brad binder: denver.

#a mix of cities and states alas i am not perfect #PLEASE fellow usa people give me ur thoughts on this quote a few stumped me #motogp #callie speaks #asks #like truly you guys. you get called gay if you’re a man wearing a turtleneck here it is a different vibe.

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mydaddywiki · 12 days

Text

Jimmy Johnson

Physique: Average Build Height: 5′ 8″

James William Johnson (born July 16, 1943) is an American sports analyst and former football coach. Johnson served as a head football coach on the collegiate level from 1979 to 1988 and in the NFL for nine seasons. He is the first head football coach to win both a college football national championship and a Super Bowl, achieving the former with University of Miami and the latter with the Dallas Cowboys. Since his coaching retirement, Johnson has appeared as an analyst for Fox Sports and is one of the featured commentators of Fox NFL Sunday. He was inducted to the College Football Hall of Fame in 2012 and the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2020.

Handsome silverdaddy with a decent body and what I like to call 'perfect hair forever.' Would just love to run my fingers though that hair of his. Kinda disappointed about the ExtenZe deal, but he has other qualities I can abuse.

Johnson attended high school at Thomas Jefferson High School, now Memorial High School, in Port Arthur, Texas. Johnson played college football as a defensive lineman at the University of Arkansas between 1962 and 1964. During his time in Arkansas, he played with future Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones.

Johnson held his first head football coaching position at Oklahoma State University from 1979 to 1983. He became Miami's head football coach in 1984 and guided the team to a college championship, before succeeding original Cowboys head coach Tom Landry in 1989. He served five seasons with the Cowboys and guided the team to two Super Bowl championships. Johnson also coached the Miami Dolphins for four seasons and led the club to the playoffs in all but his first year on the job. In all, Johnson’s record as an NFL head coach was 80-64-0 in the regular season and 9-4 in the playoffs for an overall mark of 89-68-0.

Twice married, first to Linda Kay Cooper on July 12, 1963, with whom he had two sons, divorced in January 1990. On July 18, 1999, Johnson married Rhonda Rookmaaker. I swear… why do I even bother. There isn't much else I can say about him. He's good looking and I'd love to fuck him like crazy. Like a lot of other people no doubt.

Career Highlights and Awards As Head Coach: 2× Super Bowl champion (XXVII, XXVIII) AP NFL Coach of the Year (1990) Dallas Cowboys Ring of Honor National champion (1987) Walter Camp Coach of the Year (1986) Big Eight Coach of the Year (1979) As Player: National champion (1964) 2× SWC champion (1961, 1964) First-team All-SWC (1964)

Career Coaching Statistics NFL win–loss record: 80–64 Postseason record: 9–4 NCAA win–loss record: 81–34–3

#mydaddywiki sports figures #football coach #Jimmy Johnson

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saintescuderia · 4 months

Text

pancakes: the recipe!

for the version of pancakes published here, i have tried to make the character as generic as possible in terms of reference (pronouns etc.) however, the one thing i have kept is the last name: tessio.

should you be curious as to find out more about the character, here is some more information which is used for the alternate version of pancakes (linked here: coming soon!)

NOTE: this story has additional fics that are a part of the 'pancakes!universe.' these supplement the overall story arc. also are just a bit of fun, really

+++ ANTINAL // CS55 AKA carlos gets sick in jeddah - complete (read here) +++ LOS BLANCOS // CS55 AKA the first time carlos sees you wearing a real madrid jersey makes him question everything

+++ STOMACHING YOU // MV33 AKA max comes to you after winning abu dhabi 2021 - complete (read here) +++ JUST AN INCHIDENT // MV33 AKA you hurt your wrist - and jos verstappen's face

+++ STUCK ON THE PUZZLE // DR3 AKA how daniel's famed 2018 monaco win was the beginning of the end

+++ HILLBILLES // OP81 (ft. kendrick, keem + tyler) AKA you help increase oscar's street cred by getting him into a music video with a bunch of rappers

+++ SIL16 // CL16 AKA - charles debuts in F1 and almost says i love you

+++ FAST AND FURIOUS // LL40 (ft. LH44) AKA - now that both your calendars line up, you and liam can finally go drifting in japan

FULL NAME: elena marie 'tezza' tessio DOB: 6/3/97 PLACES: born in monaco. raised in australia. lived in america. FAMILIAL SITUATION: auntie nadia is the goat. and just not because her brother is football's Don. GENERAL: gymrat. hip-hop head with far too many shoes. introverted. monolingual. 400mg of caffeine is a guideline. bryan o'connor was a sexual awakening - to boys and cars. burned too many times. protein pancakes are the goated form of breakfast.

a pancakes moodboard

the pancakes 'let him cook bake' playlist

note: there is no correlation where certain songs are for certain scenes. these are just the songs i listened to when i wrote this story.

too many nights - metro boomin

no eres tu (soy yo) - kali uchis

is there someone else? - the weeknd

benthi - khaled + melissa m

avec moi - PLK

ma bansak - zeyne (colours show ver.)

miami - kali uchis ft. bia

self love - metro boomin

in my head- tertia may

no ordinary love - sade

smooth operator remix - sade (ofc)

bonbon - era istrefi

4eva (extended mix) - shygirl

don't forget my love - diplo

slide - HER

bathroom - montell fish

p power - gunna

trance - metro boomin

orange soda - baby keem

realism v idealism - $uicideboy$

shook ones pt. ii - mobb deep

link here

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon

@charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo @lozzamez3

@butterfliesflyaroundmymind @vellicora @ellen3101 @michelleyw81 @samantha-chicago

@bloodyymaryyy @a-beaverhausen @bokutos-babyowl @tsireyasgf

message me if you would like to be added :)

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trickphotography2 · 1 year

Text

First and Goal

Hangman hosts a college football day for the Daggers, only to have Payback bring a history making Angel. (Hangman x female Reader fluff, no use of 'you')

Completely self-indulgant college football fic after seeing Glen and Danny at the Texas and Miami games last week. Fic contains some trash talking of Miami and Alabama. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Word count: 1.5K

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Jake tore his eyes away from the television when the doorbell rang, huffing as the Game Day announcers stalled on making their prediction of who would win the Texas vs. Alabama game. Phoenix pushed away from the kitchen island where she and Coyote were grazing on the snacks he’d set out.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he grumbled as two hosts picked Bama. Planting his hands on his hips, he pressed his lips into a thin line when Lee Corso called for the fight song to play, and the twang of Sweet Home Alabama started.

“Roll Tide, I guess,” came a sigh beside him. Jake’s gaze snapped to the woman, taking in her crimson shirt, Navy regulation bun, and furrowed brow as she watched the antics.

“Hey, hey, hey! Oh no, wait a minute, wait a minute. That’s not the right song - play Texas’ song!”

“Yes!” He pumped his fist as Corso put on the Hook’em head.

“Thank Christ.”

“Not rooting for your team?” he asked, facing her. She rolled her eyes, pointing towards the logo on her chest - a Seminole head.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked - garnet, not crimson.” A slight southern accent colored her words. “While I appreciate Bama for making Tim Tebow cry, their fans are insufferable. I’m ready for them to get taken down a peg. If the Longhorns are the ones to do it, I guess I’ll put up with more of the Gig ‘em nonsense.”

“Hook ‘em,” Jake corrected, and the smirk curving her lips made him think she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Giving Hangman shit already, Syla?” Payback asked, tossing an arm over the woman’s shoulder. The woman grinned up at the pilot and raised an eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she laughed. Jake felt a shot of disappointment at the fond look that passed between the two. “But if you’re Hangman,” she added, turning her attention back towards Jake, “this is for you. Thanks for letting me crash.” She extended a bottle towards him - Wolcott bourbon, bottled in the bond.

“Thanks. Syla your name or callsign?”

“Callsign.”

“You stationed here?”

“Soon, but I’m in town for the show.”

“The…” he frowned, then nodded. “You’re a Blue Angel?”

“That I am.” The Blue Angels were the Navy’s flight demonstration team. Stationed at NAS Pensacola, they were the most high-profile squad that toured across the US. It’d made the news that they finally had their first female aviator on the team two years ago. “At least until the end of the tour, then I’m headed back to TOPGUN.”

“Oh, come on,” Fanboy grumbled, watching as the University of Miami quarterback was sacked. Across the kitchen, Syla pumped her fist and silently cheered while nursing her water bottle. Jake smirked into his beer. Fanboy and Syla had exchanged some good-natured shit-talking since Florida State and Miami were in the same conference and would be playing against one another later in the season.

When she’d shared the story behind her callsign - Syla, short for See Ya Later Alligator - Fanboy had gone red in the face laughing as Jake chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Bob asked.

Heaving a sigh, Syla explained, “My team is FSU Seminoles. We hate the Florida Gators, and there was a Gators fan in FRS with me. Our COs got tired of us shit-talking the whole season and decided to punish us by making our callsigns have to do with our rivalry. So I’m Syla, and he’s Renegade after our mascot.”

“At least it’s not Swamp,” Jake offered, thinking of how Gainesville, where the University of Florida was located, was nicknamed ‘The Swamp.’

“Yeah, that cost me 150 pushups.”

“Run, run, run, run, run!” Syla screamed, jumping off the couch with Jake beside her.

“Come on!” he yelled. When the player was tackled after a 40-yard run, he whooped and held a hand to Syla, who laughed and slapped his palm before leaning around him to high-five Fanboy.

“Fuck. There’s three of them,” Phoenix grumbled.

The afternoon passed into shouts of “He was wide fucking open!”, “No! Sit his ass down!”, “Where’s the damn flag?”, “Pass interference!” and “Find it! Find it!” During commercials, they quickly learned about one another - Syla was a Florida girl born and raised in Tallahassee. She’d graduated from FSU and attended as many games as possible during the last three years she’d been stationed in Pensacola. Touring with the Angels made it hard since she was on the road from March to November, but the constant travel was worth it to be the first female Blue Angel. She was looking forward to the stability of being an instructor at TOPGUN and not living out of her duffle bag.

Syla retrieved her uniform from Payback’s car at halftime and disappeared into the bathroom. “She’s nice,” Coyote told Payback as Jake stepped into his backyard.

“She’s great. Pain in the ass perfectionist, but that’s what got her on the Angels.”

“She’ll be a good trainer,” Phoenix added. “Have you seen that diamond maneuver they pull?”

“So, how do you know each other?” Jake asked, glancing at Payback.

“We met in flight school and kept in touch from there.”

“You guys…” Rooster cocked an eyebrow.

“Nooo,” Payback quickly replied, then shuddered. “She’s like a sister. A sister,” he repeated, pinning the other men with a stern, warning look.

A while later, the door opened, and Syla peeked out, her eyes meeting Jake’s. “They’re about to kick off.”

“Be right in,” he smiled back. After collecting the empty beer bottles from his friends, he jogged back inside. Syla had swapped out her jean shorts and t-shirt for her dress white skirt, and white tank top. She declined another drink - she’d sipped a glass of bourbon earlier before switching to water, saying that she needed to be sharp for work later - but accepted a soda.

The Daggers drifted in and out of the house, Payback sometimes joining them in the cheering squad, but Syla and Jake were glued to the game. When Texas threw a 39-yard touchdown to pull further ahead, Jake screamed and jumped around his living room, much to the amusement of his friends. Syla whooped and clapped, raising her hand for a high five. Their palms slapped, and his fingers curled around hers, giving a quick shake before collapsing beside her. His shoulders brushed against her as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and covering his mouth.

“We gotta head out soon if you’re gonna make the dinner,” Payback said as the game clock wound down.

“Shit,” Syla groaned, glancing at her watch. Between plays, she quickly slipped on her blouse, lower lip between her teeth as she watched the action and did up the buttons. Jake couldn’t help but glance at her legs as she swayed beside him, their knees touching as she tucked in her shirt.

When the quarterback took a snap and dropped to his knee, Jake exploded off the couch, whooping as Texas won. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around a laughing Syla, lifting her off her feet as he celebrated his team beating the Crimson Tide on their home field.

“Syla, we really gotta go,” Payback said.

“Fuck, okay, uh,” she said, stepping out of Jake’s reach and patting his shoulder. “Congrats on the win. It was nice meeting all of you. I’ll hopefully see you in a couple months if I don’t get reprimanded for being late for dinner with the top brass. Oh, and Fanboy - I’ll think of you when I’m in Doak for the game in November.”

Smirking, Fanboy held up his hands, his thumbs touching to make the Miami ‘U’ signal. She gave him a saccharine smile and did the same; all her fingers were down except her middle ones, so she flipped him off. “I’ll walk you out,” Jake offered, grabbing Syla’s bag from the dining room table. Payback narrowed his eyes at the other man. “It sucks you can’t watch your team play tonight.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “we played our hard game against LSU last week, and it’s an easy match-up this week. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and check the score every once in a while.”

“What time do you fly tomorrow?”

“Gates open at 0800, and we’re the closer at 1520. Why, gonna come to the show, Hangman?”

“You never know,” he winked. “Heard the Angels do a pretty impressive diamond formation.”

“18-inch clearance, wingtip to canopy,” she smirked. “If you come, I’ll be in the blue and yellow flight suit.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Chuckling, she took her bag, their fingers brushing and sending a pleasant tingling sensation up his spine. “Good to meet you, Syla.”

“You too, Hangman.”

Payback paused beside Jake when she walked away and hissed, “No.”

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

Notes: The Blue Angels are based out of Pensacola and just welcomed their first female pilot in 2023 - callsign Stalin. I miss seeing them buzz the beaches and hear them practice in the afternoons. They tour the US and Canada, and the clips I've seen are phenomenal. If you haven't seen the pilot perspective of the tight diamond formation, I highly recommend it.

The 0800 and 1520 are military time, so it's 1520 is 3:20PM.

Read part 2, Overtime.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader

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