#my first pride officially out and proud

[sirfrogsworth]

How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

[irisintheafterglow]

kid megumi starts a fight. you and satoru finish it.

being fresh out of high school while simultaneously taking care of a second grader was an interesting experience, to say the least. today was no different.

"oh my god; he what? i'll be there in a second, fucking hell," you sputter as you all but shoot upward from your desk, sweeping the post-mission paperwork to the side and grabbing your car keys from the bedside table. the car makes strained vrooms while you impatiently pump the gas pedal, accelerating down the street like a bat out of hell. swerving into the nearest parking space you could find, you forcefully swing open the door to the front office to find satoru waiting in a plastic chair. he mutters an exasperated oh, thank god under his breath before standing and taking your hand, leading you down the hall to the principal's office.

"is he okay?"

"he's fine, i promise." you look at him skeptically, remembering all the times megumi was "fine" yet had scrapes that satoru didn't know how to clean up. "i'm serious. i saw it myself. the nurse cleaned up his nose and iced the hit on his face."

"he got hit in the fucking face?" your jaw drops in shock and you quiet your voice to a hushed whisper outside the principal's office door. "what the fuck happened that he got punched in the-"

"fushiguro's guardians, please come in. we're ready for you," an irritatingly nasally voice calls from inside and it takes all of your willpower not to blast the door open until it's shredded to pieces. megumi's principal sits behind an obtrusively large wooden desk, with the boy sitting by one end and two empty chairs at the other. you immediately drag one of the chairs over to sit by his side, but a wrinkled hand stops you. "please sit across from him, not beside him. he must receive proper punishment and that begins with accounting for his own actions," the principal instructs you and you catch satoru's jaw clench in restrained anger. he wanted to tear the principal's head off for telling you what to do, especially since it was regarding megumi.

"i'll decide where i want to sit, thank you," you reply with forced politeness, sliding the chair next to a defeated megumi. he scoots as close to you as he can and links his pinky finger in yours. it's small, but you know he's trying to manage his anxiety along with yours. satoru shrugs indifferently at the principal but shoots you a proud wink when no one is looking. "they cleaned you up, yeah?" you ask megumi softly and he nods, wincing slightly when your knuckles lightly brush the bruise on his cheek. "i'm sorry, baby-"

"fushiguro instigated a fight with three sixth grade students, all of them older than him. we believe he may have developed issues dealing with his emotions, specifically anger," the principal informs you and you make a great deal of effort to wipe the glower from your face. "student witnesses say that he struck first, and-"

"do you know why he started the fight in the first place?" your eyes narrow on the scrawny, shriveled man behind the oversized desk and he shrinks away slightly.

"no, b-but we believe that violence should not be-"

"violence or not, shouldn't you be responsible for understanding why this occurred outright?" your voice is strained and tense, slightly shaky with repressed anger. you stare daggers into the old man's sunken eyes and catch satoru watching the whole scene with pride. here was a man who knew nothing about a child you considered your own, trying to argue that he started a fight for no reason when you knew megumi would never harm a bee, even if it stung him. before you're able to start a physical fight with the idiot school official that probably saw more board meetings than actual students, satoru's voice cuts in.

"forgive me, but i don't appreciate your tone-"

"we'll be sure to properly discipline him at home, sir," he states emotionlessly, and you wordlessly thank him for wrapping the meeting up quickly. after a few more glares and aggressive signatures on paperwork waiving the school of any responsibility for megumi's injuries, you walk out of the office with satoru's arm around your shoulders and megumi's hand grasping yours. "alright, firecracker. you fizzled out yet or do we need to take you to a kickboxing class real quick?" he presses a tender kiss to the side of your head, clearly unbothered by the way you barreled through that ridiculous meeting.

"put me in an empty field away from people, and i'll make a kickboxing class look like a fucking knitting circle," you mutter vengefully as satoru chuckles under his breath.

"alright, megs. you gonna tell us what happened or are we actually going to need to get you a therapist?" megumi glances off to the side, irritated, but you squeeze his hand once in reassurance that, no matter what happened, you'd figure it out together.

"they were hurting tsumiki," he says quietly and both you and satoru freeze, looking at each other in careful understanding. "she was saying it was just a joke, but i caught her crying while we were walking home."

"so, you decided the best option was to fight them," you say slowly. satoru's hand rubs loving circles on your shoulder and you ask the question you've been holding onto since he called. "well, did you beat them?"

"i did, and that's why everyone is so angry," the boy shrugs and you huff a tired exhale. "are you mad at me?"

"no, megs. i'm glad you defended your sister, but i wish you'd told us what was going on before acting on your own."

"yeah, we could have helped you," your boyfriend whispers and you elbow his stomach lightly. not yet, you mouth to him. let's drop him off first.

"the kids said they were going to get my parents involved. is that why you're here?"

"yes and no," satoru says, opening the car door for you as you slide into the passenger seat. he could have warped back to the school, but he'd silently indicated that he wanted to drive all three of you back. "yeah, we're here to come get you; but, unfortunately for those shithead kids-" you turn to face him in the backseat, a conniving smile creeping onto your face.

"we're not your parents, and we're gonna need those kids' names."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[aptericia]

Not proud to be here.

--

Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.

The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.

It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.

Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.

And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"

Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.

--

On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.

[requiemforthepoets]

hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?

tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43

PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader

SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n

As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.

However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.

Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.

When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.

“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”

You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.

After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.

When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.

“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”

He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”

His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”

Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”

You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.

“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”

Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”

You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”

He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”

Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.

You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.

Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”

Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”

You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”

“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”

Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”

As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.

After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.

You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.

“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”

He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.

Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.

You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.

[huggybearhughes43]

You’re my favorite trophy

Oscar Piastri x Fem! Reader

Warnings- smut, semi public, raw dawgin, creampie, getting caught

Summary- Oscar uses his first win to his advantage against his best friend

Word count- 948

My face heats up with pride as I watched Oscar finish the race on the garage tv. Bri and I stand up and cheer when we realized it was official that Oscar had won first. My heart was pounding in my chest as if it were about to jump out. Oscar and I had been best friends since elementary school. When he finally got into F1 I followed him, deciding that being a manager in the garage was the best bet to stay close. Bri and I settle down, sitting back on the couch to watch the podium celebration.

The stream cuts off, signaling that the racers were returning back to their designated garages. The second the door swings open I stand up and rush over to the McLaren racers. Oscar rushes in with a huge smile slapped across his face. “Did you see that? I mean, did you see my win!?” Oscar cheers, rushing to pull me into his arms in a hug. I laugh at his excited expression, I was surprised he wasn’t jumping up and down. Lando places a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, “Come on mate, we’ve got interviews and that meet and greet.” The smile on Oscar’s face doesn’t fade as he nods, “I’ll be right behind you, just wanna talk to y/n first.”

Lando nods in understanding before leaving with basically everyone else in the garage. I look back at Oscar, cupping his face with my hands. “I’m really proud of you.” I don’t fail to notice how Oscar’s ears and cheeks turn to a light pink hue. “Thank you.” The blush fades in a moments time, the flushed expression turned to one of mischief. Before I could say anything more, Oscar drops his head out of my hands and to my neck. I gasp, sure we’ve flirted a bit in the past but neither of us had ever made an effort to make a move.

“Oscar, what are you doing?” He presses soft kisses along my shoulder before pulling back. “Just tell me if you wanna stop.” He says before pressing his lips back onto my neck, this time making point to suck marks. When he doesn’t hear any protest, instead feeling a hand tangle into his soft hair, he smirks. “Didn’t think so.” He mumbles against the skin of my neck. He reaches down to loop his hands behind my thighs before lifting me and pressing me to a nearby wall. “What if someone walks in?” I ask, biting back a moan. “I’ll make sure no one sees you, promise.” I smile at his words and nod, “okay.”

Oscar pulls away, his eyes filled with lust. “Who needs a stupid trophy when I have you?” He presses his lips to mine softly, “you’re my favorite trophy.”he mumbles against my lips. The soft kiss soon turns sloppy and wet, our tongues colliding. The neediness in his rushed kisses almost made me laugh but I held my composure. My hands laced themselves in his hair again, giving it a slight tug to pull him away. “Oscar…” I whisper, “I want you in me.” His heavy breaths fanned over my face. I bite my lip and push my hips forward into his clothed hardness.

Without another word he reaches up to unzip his suit. He reaches into his boxers to pulls his rock hard member out. I feel my cunt get wetter and wetter as I look down at his dick. My panties already soiled by how turned on I was. He presses his lips to mine once again, reaching to pull my panties to the side under my skirt. My moans were muffled by his lips as he slowly presses into me. My hands tug harshly on the roots of his hair, his hips finally being to pressed to mine when he bottoms out. “So fucking wet” he gasps as he pulls out and thrust’s harshly back in, “and tight.”

I throw my head back against the wall, trying my best to muffle my own moans as he lets his free in my ear. I look down, watching as my cunt engulfs his above average size. My heads pressed back against the wall after a particularly hard thrust. “Oscar, m’gonna cum.” I whimper out. He nods through his moans, “go ahead.” He manages to speak out. With the words of permission I whine as my stickiness coats his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy when my cunt clenches hard around him.

I could tell he was getting close just by the pure bliss spread across his face. “Cum in me.” The words just slip out of my mouth. Oscar furrows his brows, not letting his thrusts stop as he approaches his orgasm. “Are you sure?” I nod with a fucked out smile, “consider it a congratulations present.” With just a few more snaps of his hips, he lets his hot, sticky ropes fill me up. His thrusts interrupted by the door to the garage swinging open.

We both jump and snap our heads towards the door. I see Lando covering his mouth to suppress a laugh, “finally, mate.” He manages to get out without laughing, but the huge grin went unnoticed. “I’ll just tell the interviewers you’ll be out in a moment.” He nods and turns to exit the room. I laugh and look at an insanely embarrassed Oscar. I wiggle out of his grasp to fix my skirt and hair, Oscar following me and tucking himself back into his boxers before zipping his suit back up. I stand on my tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips. “Could’ve been worse, it could’ve been the interviewer.” I shrug.

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 10

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2434 Click here for Part 9

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando and Y/N stood in the Norris family living room and Y/N felt her heart racing as she looked at Lando. They had discussed how they would share this countless times, yet now that it was happening, the magnitude of it all was overwhelming. Sensing her nervousness Lando squeezed her hand, reassuring her in a silent way.

Adam and Cisca sat across from them on the sofa. Cisca, always intuitive, had sensed that something significant was about to unfold. “So what’s going on?” she asked with a curious smile. “What’s the big secret?”

Lando exchanged a quick, comforting glance with Y/N before crouching down beside Noah. The 5-year-old had been busily playing with his toy car but he knew it was his moment to shine. Lando leaned in close and whispered, “Are you ready to tell Grandma and Grandpa the special news?”

Noah nodded eagerly, his small face lighting up. They had practiced this moment together and now, with Lando by his side, he felt confident. With a little nudge from the young man Noah stepped forward, clutching his toy car tightly in one hand.

The room grew silent as Noah looked up at Cisca and Adam, who he started calling his grandparents a while ago, his eyes wide and bright. “Mummy and Lando are getting married,” he announced proudly, his voice carrying across the room.

For a brief moment the room was still, the words hanging in the air. Then Cisca gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes filled with joyful tears. “Oh, my God! That’s wonderful news” she exclaimed while Adam’s face split into a broad grin and he immediately stood up to embrace Lando and Y/N. “Congratulations, you two,” he said warmly, pulling them both into a tight hug. “We’re so happy for you.”

Cisca quickly followed, wrapping Y/N in a tight, heartfelt embrace. “Y/N, we’re so thrilled to officially welcome you to the family,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and sincere. She then turned to Lando, her eyes shining with pride. “And you, Lando, we couldn’t be prouder.”

Lando felt a wave of relief and happiness as he hugged his parents. He had always known they would be supportive, they both loved Y/N and Noah already, but seeing their joy firsthand was overwhelming. He looked over at Y/N who was smiling through her own tears and felt his heart swell with love.

Meanwhile Noah, basking in the praise and attention, grinned proudly. He had done exactly what Lando and Y/N had asked him to and seeing the joy on everyone’s faces made him feel like the hero of the day. Cisca noticed and knelt down to his level, wrapping him into her arms. “And you, my little love, you did such a great job telling us,” she said, kissing his cheek. “You’re going to be the best ring bearer ever.”

Noah giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “I’m gonna carry the rings,” he declared, making everyone laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a great little family here, son,” Adam directed at Lando, “We’re so proud of you both.”

Lando felt his throat tighten with emotion as he looked at his parents. “Thanks, Dad. It means the world to us to have your blessing,” he said, his voice thick with feeling.

As the initial excitement began to settle they all moved to sit together in the dining room. Cisca, ever the hostess, hurried off to the kitchen to bring out the dinner she had prepared and soon they all sat together enjoying the meal.

“So, have you two thought about any wedding plans yet?” Cisca asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “A date? A venue?”

“We have a few ideas, but nothing’s set in stone yet,” Y/N said, feeling the butterflies return at the thought of all the planning ahead.

Lando nodded. “Yeah, we’re thinking of something intimate, with just close family and friends,” he added. “But we wanted to share the news with you first before making any big decisions.”

Cisca smiled warmly. “Whatever you choose, I know it’ll be perfect,” she said. “And if you need any help with the planning, I’m always here.”

Adam nodded in agreement. “We’re just happy to be part of this journey with you,” he said, reaching over to squeeze Y/N’s hand. “And Noah, too,” he added, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You’re going to be a very important part of this wedding, young man.”

Noah beamed, clearly pleased with his role in the family’s plans. He was already imagining himself walking down the aisle with the rings, feeling both proud and a little grown-up.

After the hearty meal Noah, tired from his big moment and the excitement of the evening, began to grow drowsy. He had been sitting on the floor by Lando’s feet but now, as his eyelids drooped, he climbed onto the sofa and snuggled up to Lando. Without a word Lando gently lifted him onto his lap, wrapping an arm around the boy as Noah rested his head on Lando’s shoulder, his toy car still clutched in his small hand.

Y/N watched them with a soft smile, her heart full as she saw the bond between her son and Lando. It was a perfect moment, one that captured the love and warmth they shared as a family.

Eventually, with Noah fast asleep on Lando’s shoulder, Y/N and Lando decided it was time to head home. They exchanged final hugs and goodnights with Adam and Cisca, who were still beaming with happiness. “We’ll start planning soon,” Lando promised as he carefully stood up, cradling Noah in his arms. “But for now, we just wanted to share this moment with you.”

Cisca nodded, her eyes still shining with tears of joy. “We’re so glad you did, darling,” she said, giving them both one last squeeze. “You’ve made us so happy.”

As Lando and Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, with Noah softly snoring against the young man’s shoulder, they both felt happier than ever. The night had been perfect and now, with the blessing of Lando’s parents, they were ready to start planning the rest of their lives together.

“We did it,” Lando whispered to Y/N as they were walking to the car, leaning in to kiss her temple.

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart full. “We did,” she replied, glancing at Noah. “And Noah was amazing.”

Lando laughed softly, nodding in agreement as he carefully placed Noah into his car seat. “Didn’t expect anything else,” he said, watching as Noah stirred slightly but remained asleep, his small face peaceful.

During their drive to the hotel Lando squeezed Y/N’s hand, his eyes flickering to her with nothing but love. “Thank you,” he said softly. “You and Noah are my everything.”

_____

A few weeks later Lando stood on the balcony of his apartment in Monaco, gazing out over the Mediterranean Sea. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city. It was a perfect evening, one he had carefully planned but his mind was filled with thoughts and a bit of anxiety as well. He had been with Y/N for over a year before getting engaged two months ago and tonight he was going to ask her and Noah to make a huge decision.

The three of them were spending the weekend in Monaco together. It was the first time Y/N and Noah had visited since their relationship had gotten more serious and Lando wanted to show them why he loved it so much here.

They had explored the Old Town, visited the nearby beach and even took a boat ride around the harbor. Noah had been particularly fascinated by the yachts, his eyes wide with wonder as he asked Lando all sorts of questions about them.

He loved them both more than anything but he knew this wasn’t just about them. It was also about Noah. The little boy had his life back home, friends, a school he liked, a neighborhood he was comfortable in. Lando had seen the joy in Noah’s eyes when he played with his friends and the last thing he wanted was to take that away from him. But Lando also knew that Monaco could offer them a wonderful life, one full of new experiences and opportunities.

Y/N walked up beside him, leaning on the balcony railing. She looked out at the view, a soft smile on her lips. “It’s so beautiful here,” she murmured, her voice calm yet thoughtful.

Lando turned to look at her, his heart starting to pound. “It is. And it could be our home.”

Y/N glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. She had a feeling where this conversation was heading but she stayed quiet, letting Lando find his words.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” Lando began, taking her hand in his. “About us, about our future. I love you, Y/N and I love Noah like he’s my own son. These past few months have been the happiest I’ve ever been and I want more of that, every day, for the rest of our lives.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes softening as she squeezed his hand. “I love you too, Lando. You’ve been amazing to us.”

He took a deep breath, his nerves getting the better of him for a moment. “I want you and Noah to move here, to Monaco, with me. I know it’s a big change and I know Noah has his friends and his life back home but I believe we can make a beautiful life here together. I want us to be a real family, all of us under one roof. No more traveling around just to see each other for a few days or hours. We can be together all the time, I would come home to you two instead of having to travel to see you.”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly as she thought about it. She had always known this conversation would come but now that it was here she couldn’t help but feel the weight of it. “Lando, I love you and I love the idea of us all being together but I’m worried about Noah. He’s still so young and his friends mean the world to him. He’s just started to really settle in at school. What if moving here is too much for him?”

Lando’s expression softened as he saw the concern in her eyes. He had thought about this a lot and he understood her fears. “I know it’s a big change,” he said gently. “But I think Noah’s stronger than we realize. Kids are adaptable and I’ll do everything I can to make sure the transition is smooth for him. We can find a great school here, one where he can make new friends. And I promise I’ll spend as much time with him as I can, making him feel comfortable and at home. We’ll visit his old friends whenever we can and they can visit us too. It’ll be different but it doesn’t have to be hard.”

Y/N bit her lip, still unsure. She wanted to believe him but the thought of uprooting her son’s life was daunting. “But what if he feels lonely? What if he struggles to make friends? It’s such a big move, Lando.”

Lando cupped her face in his hands, his eyes filled with love and determination. “Y/N, I’ll be here with you every step of the way. We’ll do this together, as a team. I know Noah will need time to adjust and there will be challenges but we’ll face them together and I’ll make sure he never feels alone.”

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and the love in them. She knew Lando was serious about this and he was ready to do whatever it took to make sure Noah was happy and comfortable in their new life.

Before she could respond they heard the sound of tiny feet pattering toward them. Noah came running out onto the balcony, his face lit up with excitement. “Lando, Lando! Can we go see the boats again tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Lando grinned. “Of course, buddy. We can see the boats every day if you want.”

Noah’s face lit up even more, his joy contagious. “Really? Every day?”

“Yep, every day. And you know, if you lived here, we could see them all the time.”

Noah’s eyes widened with surprise. “I could live here?”

Y/N watched as Noah’s excitement grew, her heart caught between her love for Lando and her concern for her son. But seeing how happy Noah was at the thought of living in Monaco, she began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Lando was right. Maybe they could make this work…

With a deep breath, Lando decided it was time for a little extra persuasion. “You know what else would be fun?” he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “If we moved here, we could get a dog!”

Noah’s eyes grew even wider, his mouth forming a perfect “O” of surprise. “A dog? Really?”

“A dog?!” Y/N chimed in as well, clearly surprised at the suggestion.

Lando nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! We could go to the shelter and pick out a puppy together. It could be your new friend in Monaco. What do you think?”

Noah bounced with excitement, his little fists clenched in glee. “I want a dog that can play with me!”

“Lando, you’re only suggesting this because you want a dog,” Y/N shook her head.

The man chuckled. “Guilty,” he exclaimed and placed a soft kiss to her temple.

Y/N chuckled, her heart warming at the sight of Noah’s excitement. She turned back to Lando, seeing the genuine happiness in his eyes. “A dog would be a big responsibility but I think it might be a great idea. Noah would love it.”

“We’ll make sure it’s the perfect dog for us,” Lando’s smile widened, and he pulled Y/N into a gentle embrace. “And it will give Noah a new friend to help with the transition.”

Y/N looked at her son. She saw the joy in his eyes and the hope that Lando’s proposal had ignited. “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s move to Monaco and get a dog.”

Lando’s face lit up with pure joy as he scooped Noah up into his arms, spinning him around with laughter. “Thank you, Y/N. I promise you, we’ll make this the best adventure ever.”

______

Stay tuned for Part 11! Sorry this is late, I'm coming down with sth and I'm not happy lol

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch @cherry-piee @wisestarfishbouquet

[b14augrana]

Scrubber

Your first time versing Lyon was the match of your dreams

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 3 masterlist

Warnings: lots of happiness and not proofread as per usual … 😁

A/N: i forgot to mention that mapi's knee is 100% functioning and not crippled in this series!!!! i’ve decided to turn it into a series because i love our hay day obsessed reader so much.

also, reader takes alexia’s place in scoring a golazo because our wonderkid needs her time to shine and what better time to shine than in a uwcl final 🪄🪄 (peep my reference in the fic to the gif im so smart)

we need a nickname for little miss wonderkid so i dont constantly refer to her as reader so plz suggest some in my asks 🥹

You were way too nervous for the final to function. You regretted eating breakfast that morning because it felt like you were about to throw it all up.

Honestly, you were even nervous to look at the players. You stood timidly between Lucy and Irene in the line, secretly hoping you never had to leave the tunnel. You did not want the likes of Ada Hegerberg charging towards little 16-year-old you.

You glanced down at the ‘NV15’ written on your wrist in black. That forever-present question of 'What would Vidić do?' loomed in your mind.

He wouldn’t be worrying about anyone on the opposition. He’d just be worried about breaking the Brexit tackle world record and keeping everyone in white as far away from the goal as possible.

The officials at the end of the tunnel signalled to both teams, which meant it was time. As you emerged out of the tunnel, walking out to the sound of a stadium full of culers, you didn’t feel scared. The cheers from all around the stadium deafened you, but also made you feel an insane amount of pride.

As you stood beside your teammates, the Barcelona anthem blasted on the speakers and the crowd became a choir as they sung the anthem loud and proud. Your attention was in the stands, looking at all the people that had come to watch. You almost teared up when you spotted a little girl and her older brother wearing a jersey with your name on it. Your name. Just having a mascot blew you away, so seeing people you probably weren’t much older than, wearing jerseys with your name on the back, was a crazy concept.

It made you think about the future. It made you hope that one day, you’d grow up to be some little girl’s idol the way Vidić is yours.

“Get ready to shake hands, (Y/N),” Irene reminded you, noticing that you looked a bit spaced out. You brought yourself back to the present and nodded, sticking your hand out to shake the long line of Lyon hands.

When Alexia asked you to bend down and hold the match day pennant, it almost felt like blasphemy. Your mouth was slightly agape as she thrusted it into your hand. “But why me?”

“My knee is no good, it’s better if I stand,” she explained.

“But why m–”

“Just hold it, nena!” Alexia laughed, getting back in the line. You crouched down, holding the pennant in one hand and bracing the ground with the other as you smiled gingerly for the camera.

As soon as the photographer lowered his camera, you sprung to your feet and gave the pennant back to Alexia. “There you go, capi!” you said happily, motioning to Renard who was approaching with their own pennant to exchange. Alexia laughed and patted you on the back, mumbling a quick ‘gracías’ before turning away.

You walked over to the bench and shrugged your jacket off, folding it neatly for one of the team management to take to the locker room later on. With one last meaningful glance at your wrist, you ran onto the field to take your position. Irene was with you in the center and Lucy covered the right while Ona took care of the left. Jona had told you to be prepared for Mapi to come on, so you kept that in mind too.

As soon as the whistle was blown, you were relieved to see that Aitana, Mariona, Caro and Salma had already gotten things under control. That gave you time to scope out the Lyon front three and think about how to handle them.

You thought about what Lucy said. ‘Don’t get hurt trying to do extreme tackles.’

At the end of the day, it all came down to instinct. When Dumornay started running at you with the ball, her feet moving too quick for you to focus on, you knew what you were going to do next had to be purely instinctual. This wasn’t the match for calculated tackles.

It was a fearless tackle. It wasn’t even much of a tackle, actually; you had just gotten to the ground right in her path and made contact with the ball first before she even touched you. When she did touch you, the top of her boot got caught on your abdomen, knocking her over. It was the consequence of her own speed and momentum.

With the ball at your feet, you did what you always did best — kick it as hard as you could and hope it goes well. You must’ve hoped extremely hard or hoped to the right deity, because the ball landed right at Aitana’s feet. Not an inch in front.

With one touch, she had beaten her marker. When Aitana got the ball, it was almost always a goal, and this time was no different; before you could even register that your ball had been kept in play, let alone found a player of your own, it had beaten Endler’s desperate hands and hit the back of the net. The stadium has the loudest atmosphere you’ve ever experienced after Aitana’s goal.

She came running to you, her arms outstretched. You threw yourself into her, hugging her tightly. The rest of the team came shortly after, suffocating you two in a big team hug. You heard some muffled voices praising you and Aitana, but you were too stunned by how quickly it all happened to even register their words. There were many pats on your back and side hugs before the game reset and you were back to your centerback position, kissing the writing on your wrist.

“Aparejo increíble (Y/N), and the pass! Magnífico!” Irene said, pulling you close and ruffling your hair (to which you huffed and slicked it back down) before running back to her position.

You didn’t actually intend to make that pass, so was it that special? Aitana did score from it, but she just has magical feet.

The match had flown by, both teams only separated by one goal at the 90th minute. Lyon were desperate for a goal. Barcelona were desperate for another. Many changes had been made, including Mapi and Pina coming on.

You watched as Diani came down the left wing and somehow managed to beat Lucy and Mapi, which meant you were going to have to try tidy up at the back and not let Diani get to Cata, the last hope.

At first, you just jockeyed. You held her off and tried to delay her, which worked; her stepovers were useless and she couldn’t get past you by tapping and running… but then she did.

She took a touch just wide of you, giving herself heaps of space to dribble up to goal if she was quick enough to retrieve the ball. The big underlying issue was, your jockeying had led you two up to the box. You could either get a card and risk her scoring from a penalty or worse — not do anything and let her put it in. You would rather break your Hay Day login streak than let that happen.

As she lurched forwards to get another touch on the ball, it was like everything was in slow motion. Time slowed down as you extended your leg and thrusted your entire body forwards, cushioning your fall by sliding on your arm across the damp grass and towards the ball. You closed your eyes as she got closer to your face, hoping that if you didn’t see it happen, the collision wouldn’t hurt as much. If this tackle went wrong, it would be over for you, for Barça.

Diani’s opening had been a gift from God himself, so you prepared yourself to see her celebrating happily, the ball rolling into the net when you opened your eyes, but when you finally did open them, the ball wasn’t in the net. Diani wasn’t celebrating.

She was lying on her chest, scrambling to get to her feet. The ball was out, discarded somewhere near the barriers as a ball boy passed a new one to Lucy to throw in. Cheers had rung through the stadium upon your last-ditch tackle, but you had been too distracted to pay attention to them. You had been too focused on trying to execute the perfect tackle that would either make or break the game.

The only thing you guys needed was another goal to really seal the deal. Lyon were getting dangerously close, you needed a goal.

When Lucy had played the ball in, you moved a bit further up the field, watching the play. You noticed Caro receiving the ball, and then you noticed the absence in the middle of the box. You scanned for Aitana or Pina or anybody, but they were all marked by figures like Renard and Carpenter or in other words, brick walls that were not letting them in any time soon.

It was all, pure, instinct. You ran– no, sprinted up the field, flailing your hands in the air. “Caro, Caro!” you screamed, motioning to the middle of the box, begging for a cross.

The cross she delivered from the right wing was set to land just in front of you. You couldn’t reach it for a volley and you sure as hell couldn’t bicycle kick it in. It was travelling fast and getting nearer by the second, but that was the advantage.

Without a second thought, you jumped up. Your body was basically horizontal in the air as you flew forwards, forehead connecting with the ball. It was a shame you couldn’t watch it shoot past Endler, burying itself right in the bottom left corner. You flew into the net as well, and the only way you realised you had scored was when you sat up and looked to your side to see the ball. That’s also the only way you realised you were in the goal.

You had never stood up faster or yelled louder. You zipped past Endler and ran down the field towards the nearest camera. Your first goal of your career couldn’t have been more perfect, so you needed a celebration to match.

Aitana appeared by your side, and as you two ran side-by-side, you pointed to the people in the stands. It was a simple but meaningful celebration; it was the same celebration Vidić had once done, and you remembered it vividly. In fact, it was one of your favourite moments.

You ran to the corner flag where the rest of your team were, and you all fell into another affectionate huddle. Lucy squeezed your side. “You’re in the wrong sport, I think you’d do well as a professional diver!” she jeered, having to yell her words over the noise. You grinned at her and hugged the woman tightly right before being instructed to reset.

The ball had barely started moving again before the referee blew the final whistle. Everyone from the sidelines jumped from their seats and ran onto the field, and the people on the field ram towards your goal. Cata booted the ball into the air and jumped on top of the big hug, and then Pina followed. There was singing and dancing and flags being thrown and tears and hugs for days.

It was happy moment upon happy moment for everyone as it all sunk in — you had finally, finally beat Olympique Lyonnais in a Champions League final for the first time in your history. You had helped beat Lyon and make history with this team, and you had won your first ever Champions League and quadruple, but you had to give credit where it was due.

You knew if you never had a role model like Nemanja Vidić, nothing would’ve happened the way it did for you against Lyon.

Being a 16-year-old girl with such a fiery passion to defend and hold it down at the back wasn’t easy. There wasn’t many defenders that played for the badge the way Vidić did. The reason you loved him so much was because he exerted such an immense sense of pride and dedication to his club, and that was the type of defender you wanted to be.

That was the type of defender you had been today.

You couldn’t believe Keira and Patri when they ran up to you saying that the officials wanted to see you so you could receive the Player of the Match award once again. Your jaw was dropped and you went red as they basically dragged you away from the locker rooms and towards the officials. Your cheeks were still red from embarrassment as you took the photo.

You learned that you couldn’t just slink away into the locker rooms after such a big match, so you spent a solid 10 minutes talking to fans all around the stadium. It was a bit awkward for you at first because most of them were either as old as Alexia or literally your age, but you figured you’d have to get used to it.

The best part about the whole day was, when you eventually got back to the locker room and picked your phone up, you had reached level 300 on Hay Day.

As if one major achievement wasn’t enough.

[cheezeybread]

I've been seeing concept on my feed lately so I have to ask: Jamil taking his lover's last name when they get married. I've been seeing arguments on how this could actually free him since he technically wouldn't be a Viper anymore. So can I have headcanons for this scenario? Also how happy does he get when he's called Mr.L/N?

I've never really thought about it, but that's a pretty good point...poor Jamil needs all the good stuff he can get in this life TwT

𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 (𝐞𝐱)𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫! :𝐃 𝐅𝐭: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥, 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲

┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓

He never figured that there could be so much freedom in marriage. In all honesty, he had never really considered marriage an option for him. In Jamil's opinion, marriage was for the wealthy, those who could easily afford to have so many children and not worry about feeding them. He saw how hard his parents worked day in and day out serving Kalim's family, all so they could afford to live.

It was honestly one of the things he grew to resent Kalim's family for. They had it so easy, and they didn't even appreciate it!

And, why would Jamil want to bring a child into this world only to have them indebted to the family he himself has slaved for his entire life??

Marriage was a snake pit, and Jamil knew how to avoid those all too well.

Well, but then he met you. To be honest, Jamil never looked twice at you, assuming that you were one of those stuck-ups who enjoyed everyone's attention. But after his overblotting incident, he began to see you in a new light. You weren't craving attention. You were simply being kind. And generous. And you were oh so smart, and gorgeous...

Before he knew it, he was head over heels with you, and a relationship blossomed.

Despite his uneasiness around marriage, Jamil couldn't stand to not have you permanently bound by his side, his love for you written down on an official certificate.

You knew good and well why he was so anxious about the marriage ordeal, so a few weeks before the wedding, you went to Azul to ask him his personal opinion on the matter. After a few hours of consultation (which was, surprisingly, free! Azul said to consider it a wedding gift!), a solution was found. If Jamil took your last name, then he wouldn't legally be a part of the Viper family anymore, and therefore wouldn't be in servitude to the wealthy family of Kalim.

You presented it to Jamil with excitement, and he joined in with your happiness, although he was still a little uneasy on how to tell his parents about it

In the end, you two decided not to tell his family until the day of the wedding.

"Jamil Viper, I hereby bound you eternally to (Y/N) (L/N), to stick together for all the time in this world. You may now kiss to solidify your bond," The priest said with a loving smile, looking at the two of you like a father looks upon his child with pride "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I now introduce you to the newly wedded couple...Jamil (L/N) and (Y/N) (L/N)

Jamil's family wasn't too happy about the name change, but what could they do?? Absolutely nothing! His mother especially was upset, and pulled Jamil aside to hiss at him about how he's disgracing their family and practically shoving the Al-Asim family's face with rotten dung

HOWEVER, Kalim showed up to save the day (of course he was there! Even if he wasn't invited...he still would find a way to invite himself), informing Jamil's mother that his family was overjoyed at Jamil's decision, and wished him all the best luck in his newfound life and marriage.

Jamil's mother shut up real nicely after that.

And, after this situation, Jamil saw Kalim in a new light, untainted by his servitude to the boy. The two of them slowly became actual friends!

And for the first month after the wedding, Jamil's face would light up with an insane amount of joy whenever someone called him by his full name, proud of sharing a last name with you.

Even several years after the wedding, you can still see the sparkle in his eyes over it all.

It was the right decision, for sure

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

[goldfades]

🌱 with luke!! going to see him play for the first tim in person at his nhl games

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 585

♡ ─ warnings | luke being downbad for u, jack teasing you two (nothing too bad tho), just fluff!

♡ ─ ev's notes | this was such a fun blurb LOL

You waited for Luke and Jack at the player's entrance, excitement running through your veins. It had been a couple weeks since you'd seen Luke and this was the first game you'd attended since he had officially signed with the Devils. Now after a great win, you and the others are planning on going out to eat to celebrate not only the win, but finally being able to see your boyfriend.

After the exhilarating win, the atmosphere outside the entrance was filled with joy and relief. As the players filed out, you scanned the crowd for Luke and Jack before finally spotting them among the sea of their teammates, your heart skipped a beat. Luke's face lit up happily as he caught sight of you, and he quickly made his way over, still flushed from the game as Jack followed suit.

"Hey, there you are!" Luke exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Couldn't have picked a better game to come to, huh?"

"That was such a good game, you did so well." You responded warmly as Luke kept his arm around you proudly. "I feel like such a proud WAG, like the ones on TikTok."

Luke laughed as he shook his head, "Oh yeah, that was the main goal - to make sure you get to brag about your boyfriend who's now officially in the NHL."

"How does it feel to be the best rookie this year?" You smiled, teasing him playfully.

Luke's cheeks flushed with a mix of modesty and pride. "Oh well, I mean... Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But it does feel pretty good. Hard work pays off, I guess."

"Don't let it get to your head, man. We need you focused for the next game." Jack playfully added as he looked at his brother, a smile on his face.

"You're too modest, Luke, you were so good out there." You grinned up at your tall boyfriend as he squeezed your shoulders.

Luke beamed at your compliment, appreciating your undying support. "Well, having the best cheerleader definitely helps," he said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

Jack watched as you two shared a small kiss, letting out an exaggerated gag as Luke pulled away with an eye roll. "Jesus, can you two save the PDA for, I don't know, not in front of me?" Jack teased, earning himself a playful shove from Luke.

Luke shot Jack a playful glare, "You're just jealous because you don't have someone cheering for you so proudly."

You laughed at Luke's comment as he pulled you closer, earning a dramatic scoff from Jack. "Luke I've got fan-girls all over the world. If I wanted a girlfriend, I'd have one-"

"Whatever, whatever." Luke dismissed with a smirk, "I'm just saying, it's different when you've got someone who knows you inside out, someone who's got your back no matter what."

Your heart fluttered as you watched Luke, your lips beginning to hurt from all the smiling.

Jack rolled his eyes, a subtle smile played on his lips. "Shut up dude, save the relationship advice for later. Plus I'm living my best life right now. No commitments, no stress, no nothing."

Luke glanced at you with a smirk as you two bursted out laughing, causing an annoyed to leave Jack's mouth as he began walking away. "We getting food or what? I'm starving."

"Absolutely," you replied, still chuckling from the joke.

Luke slung an arm around your shoulders, and together, you followed Jack outside to the car.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[musaslullaby]

My friends

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4 p5

Summary: The drivers defend you from insults

Face: people on Pinterest, Bianca Bustamante, and the driver

Warning: fluff and hate

a/n: We are 100!!! Thanks to you guys.I apologize for these parts that may be a bit boring, but lately I’ve been having trouble writing what’s on my mind. I still hope you’ll like it.

Masterlist

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Yn.official

Description: Let's hope this intense simulator session makes up for my disaster.

Liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, and other 9,384,93

Olliebearman: Wait, why didn't you come to me for help???

Yn.official: I needed a veteran.

georgerussell63: You did great, don't worry. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Don't be pessimistic, mon ange.

carlossainz55: I also want that little toy.

georgerussell63: Sorry, Mercedes exclusive.

oscarpiastri: We should make an official request to the teams. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Guys, would you buy them?

f1lover: Yes, right away.

lan_: Please make them!

Leclerc_: Poor Hamilton.

16: This is too funny.

Yn.official: No Lewis was harmed.

lewishamilton: My face says it all. ❤️ Like to author

44.63: More meme content, thanks, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

formula1_: I'd buy them all.

user23: Instead of playing around, go train.

user48: I hate when people don't put in the effort.

user21: All pictures of George, not one of Yn, I wonder why.

user3: Yn, please stop playing the victim.

maxverstappen1

Description: Yn is training and also acting as a social media manager, what more do you want?

Liked by danielricciardo, olliebearman, and other 6,347,634

mv1: Max has entered protective mode.

checomax: Yes, these tactical jabs he throws at Yn's haters are awesome.

1.11: Yn, please date Max, I beg you! ❤️ Like to author

Red_:Max's like????

charles_leclerc: I've always said she's perfect.

landonorris: And also beautiful.

georgerussell63: I'm booking a photoshoot.

oscarpiastri: Leave her alone, George.

Yn.official: As soon as I find some time, I'll take some beautiful photos for you.

landonorris: You raised her well, your daughter.

danielricciardo: I know, she's my pride.

Yn.official: I'm about to cry.

op81: How cute you all are.

lewis: What a perfect family.

Lec: I want a dad like that.

user43: Proud of what?

user12: He probably taught her how to crash.

f1lover: Are you guys just here to stir trouble? ❤️ Like to author

user76: At least you can go straight in the simulator?

Formu_la: She's definitely much better than you. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official

Description: Mom forced me to go shopping.

Liked by maxverstappen1, yourcousin, and other 6,255,252

yourcousin: Go auntieee!

Yn.official: Mom’s waiting for you at homeee.

landonorris: Yn left the house!!!

charles_leclerc: Strange but true.

carlossainz55: These are the powers of mothers.

georgerussell: The lady has great taste in clothes too. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Mom said thank you.

oscarpiastri: Especially for that McLaren shirt. Mom said thank you.

user3: No, but how can you go out when you should be preparing for a race?

user32: And you’re with Haas, why are you covering McLaren gear?

user14: Can’t you do your own hair?

la_: Guys, mind your business?

16.55: If you’re here to insult, don’t follow her.

user09: I don’t think you get the point, if I were her mom, I wouldn’t let her out for the whole week so she could just train.

81: But how do you know if she’s training or not, and how much?

Landonorris

Description: When she apparently doesn’t train.

Liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and other 74,467,3

f1lover: Now the drivers are at war.

lan_: After Max, now it’s Norris too.

4__: I imagine in the first photo Lando thinking, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” ❤️ Like to author

Ynqueen: How cute are they?

Ynandnorris: And how beautiful is she?

charles_leclerc: Gorgeous. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: All thanks to training.

maxverstappen1: Training and willpower.

user30: You only go to the gym for photos.

user78_: I don’t understand why they defend her.

Formu_la: They defend her because she doesn’t want to create bad situations by responding.

yourcousin

Description: You're the best cousin I could ever have. We love you.

Liked by charles_leclerc, Yn.official, and other 9,802,833

Yn.official: My two stars.

❤️ Like to author

f1lover: How adorable.

Formula: Yn would be an amazing mother.

charles_leclerc: I missed the “Yn as a babysitter” era.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: But weren’t you terrible with kids? ❤️ Like to author

yourcousin: She was.

Yn.official: That’s not true!

danielricciardo: All great, but Yn, don’t get baby fever. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Are you scared?

georgerussell63: Now we’re all scared.

Yn.official: Never

carlossainz55: Now I’ve got dad fever. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: But wait, since when do you drink?

Yn.official: Oops.

Ynislife: Please tell me they’re coming to the GP.

yourcousin: We’ll see.

user87: Why do you have to use a child to get views?

Ynqueen: You guys are even here?

yourcousin: If you notice, you can’t even see the child’s face.

user45: Oh please, you’re probably just like Yn.

yourcousin: And how would that be?

user45: A manipulator.

Ynandlando: How dare you?

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Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @exotic-iris13 @secretlychaoticruins

[kittykattropicanna]

it's 2 am and i should sleep but i just read your prison penpal!ghost now it's rotting my brain!!!! ><

reader would so try to send him gifts if they're allowed. special holidays aren't miserable for him anymore as he would be accompanied by reader's sweet little presents!!!

Sleeps for the weak baby, sleep when you’re dead ;)

Of course you're going to look after your man, he does so much for you, the least you can do is send him some money to treat himself!!! maybe a gift or two you dirty girl :3

I know I promised to upload this last night after work but I was sleepy. IM SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

TW: edging, Si fucks himself with your dirty panties, smut, masterbation (Reader and Simon) its just fucking disgusting and dirty, but also kinda sweet <3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Absolutely, holy shit. After your first phone call, you’re his, he makes that so unbelievably clear through his next letters. :)))

Telling you how much he craves you, how you’re the only thing on his mind, describing in intimate detail how his gonna touch you, kiss you, fuck you :((((

His so fucking desperate for you, to the point he actually gets enraged knowing he can’t touch you. Just the thought of you being on the other side of the wall makes his skin crawl, you’re right there, only thick cement dividing him from you :(( 

Its even worse knowing that he can’t do anything about it >:(

Si’s a problem solver, he prides himself on being able to weasel his way out of practically any situation without a problem, if that’s  reducing his sentence down to basically nothing or getting away with his little late night phone calls with you. He always finds a way to make it work, but for the first time ever, he can’t fix this, his stuck here. No exceptions, no sweet talking to get what he wants, no amount of calculated manipulation could get him out of this situation, and it makes him go absolutely mad. 

At this point he has a year left of his sentence, his so fucking close to being let back into society, so close to finally being with you :(((

Letting his emotions (and dick) cloud his judgment, driving him to think about making stupid decisions such as an attempted jail break would be absolutely the worst idea of his entire life.

Ohhhhh, but its so tempting :(

But it would just put more time between you and him, as much as he wanted you now, he knew it was only going to rip him away from you again in the long run :/

And that’s if his even successful, one night with you would mean the world to him, but it wasn't worth being thrown back in jail, only separating the two of you for longer :(

He just needed to sit tight, let the days roll on and try not to think about your soft moans through the shitty speaker of the prison phone. :(((

He absolutely asked you to be official after speaking to you for the first time. It drives him crazy knowing when guys try and hit on you at the bar, you smile brightly and tell them that you're his, his to keep. 

One of the guards asked him what’s the first thing his going to do when he gets out, with a dopey smile he chuckles a little

“See ma’ missus mate” his so fucking cute, his actually so obsessed with you, so proud that you’re his ;))))

Of course the other inmates wouldn’t know, and technically he most definitely shouldn’t of told a guard, news spreads, but he couldn’t help it, it slipped out, and you know what, he was fucking proud of it :)))

You 100% would send him money and gifts, Si makes a little money, about £35 a week either cleaning, laundry duties, basic maintenance, basically anything the job program can offer him. 

The only issue being when he first signed up, he made sure that all his money was payed into Price’s bank account. He didn’t want to risk using it, the whole reason he started the work program was because he wanted to try and set himself up once he got out, at least have some type of savings waiting for him on the other side. Every now and then he regrets it, but he knows its for the best :/

Learning that Si was so strict with his money that he didn’t treat himself to anything didn’t sit well with you….and its not like you’re struggling financially, you work a good job and your daddy is always willing to send money if you ever needed it!!!!

A hundred odd pounds a month isn’t going to leave any sort of dint in your bank account, so of course your going to send Si some money to treat himself!!! You’re such a sweet, sweet girl :(((, his sweet, sweet girl. 

You start sending the maximum amount each month which comes out to about £150, its the least you can do!! His your boyfriend! he might be a felon, a little perverted and rough around the edges, but to you, his perfect :)))

His so grateful as well :(( treating himself to snacks :((( chocolate bars, skittles and gummy’s, buying himself a book or two, replacing his flat, stained pillow and ratted blankets, getting himself some actually nice soap and a new toothbrush, buying clothes that actually fit him!! 

His muscles have grown so much since being locked up :3 there’s nothing else to do besides lift weights, work and sit around :((((

“Sweetheart, I want ya’ to know, the second I get out of here, imma treat you real nice, give ya’ everything I can, look after ya’, protect ya’”

and

“The minute I get ya’ home, its all about you, yeah? Imma lay ya’ down and eat ya’ like a starved man, overstimulate that little cunt till ya’ beggin’ me to stop, fuck ya’ so deep and hard that you’ll forget ya’ fuckin’ name, whatever ya’ want darlin’ its all yours, been lookin’ after me so well….. imma show ya’ how much I appreciate it, as ya’ can probably tell, i’m more a man of action, poetry an’t ma style baby ;)”

Definitely learns origami from other inmates, makes little paper swans and hearts for you, the paper always being a little stained from his dirty fingers, obvious crease marks showing his folded it the wrong way and had to reattempt :))))

God he knows how to treat a women :33333

But what I really want to get into are the gifts you send him…..;)

As I established in my last fics about you sending things to Si, you absolutely send him innocent gifts. 

Photos, one of your favourite gold necklaces, an oversized tee that smells like your perfume…. Cute little personal things so he can have a piece of you, nothing crazy :3

I feel like you were reading a spicy romance book. It mentioned the main character stealing his lovers used panties out of her dirty laundry basket, very quickly and idea clicked in your brain :((((

You wanted it to be a surprise for him :(((( you didn’t mention it to him in your letters, only telling him your working on a little something that’s crafted just for him ;))

Waking up in the morning you make sure to fuck yourself with your fingers :(( 

Covering your panties with your juices, making sure their absolutely soaked in your cum :((

Rubbing your thighs together while you’re at work, soaking through your panties with your arousal :((( thinking about Si eating your pussy just like he promised while in important meetings, loosing focus…. your boss pulling you aside and asking if you’re okay :(( 

Scrambling to find an answer to explain your distracted behaviour and flushed cheeks >:(

He ends up sending you home because you’re distracting everyone with your aloofness :(( putting the rest of your team behind because you're a selfish girl with a dirty mind >:( can’t even focus in your workplace because Si’s dirty words have taken over every aspect of your thoughts >:(

At the end of the day your panties are ruined with your slick, soaked  all the way through and smelling of your orgasm just like you planned ;))

And when Si received your thong obviously used??? :000000 he let out a low grunt....

Just the idea that you did this for him, fully confirming in his mind that you wanted him, craved him just as much as he craved you made something animalistic set off in his mind….

Because he received your package in the middle of the day, he couldn’t hide and tend to himself like normal >:((((((

He needed you now, he needed to fuck his cock NOW, not wait till his cell mates were asleep, his heavy balls ached and he knew if he didn’t relieve himself soon, his blue balls would become unbearable >:(((( aching and hurting with each step, uncomfortable and frustrated :(

Purposely being a dick and coursing havoc with his inmates so he can be locked up for his disruptive and disrespectful behaviour ;)))))

A shit eating grin when his in handcuffs being walked to his cell, knowing your panties are tucked into his boxers ;))))) his won yet again ;)

Like I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, he ALWAYS gets what he wants :)))

The second his cell locks his ripping his hard, leaky cock out and wrapping your used panties around himself :((((

Pumping his fat dick, the friction of the fabric making it that much more satisfying :((((

Closing his eyes and imagining you walking around all day, turned on and flustered for him >:((((( the idea of you restricting yourself from fucking other men because you're his, knowing all you want is to be filled with dick, have the feeling of a real cock fucking you, not your cold, rubber dildo >:(

His precum mixing with your juices only turns him on more, knowing that this is the closest he’ll get to fucking your cunt for now :(( 

As his big hands slowly pump his dick, wanting to savour the moment, he lets out animalistic grunts, slowly speeding up and then slowing his pace, he edges himself almost whimpering when he refrains from his release yet again :(((

Something about holding back satisfies him, his training himself for you, getting ready for when he fucks you for the first time, wanting to hold out long enough that he can rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, forming a white rim of your cum around the base of his cock :(((

Grunted whispers of your name falling from his lips as he tries to hold back yet again, legs twitching and face getting hot as uncontrollable ropes of cum finally release from his vainy cock :(((

His never cum that much in his life, your panties damp with his semen, dick so sensitive that even the feeling of the fabric from his boxes makes him flinch >:(((

You’re such a good girl, always knowing how to please him, feels like you know him inside and out already ;)

You just wait until he gets his hands on you sweet girl ;))) 

Y'all are so fucking obsessed with each other I CAN'T

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

[footballfanficwriter]

First day

Summary: where it's Kylian's Real Madrid presentation and the reader is there on by his side

I wake up to the soft light filtering through our bedroom window in Paris, and I feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling in my chest. Tomorrow is the day Kylian officially becomes a Real Madrid player. As I slowly slide out of bed, trying not to wake him, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water does little to calm my racing thoughts, but it gives me a moment to compose myself.

I dress in a stylish yet comfortable outfit, knowing the day will be long and full of events. As I finish getting ready, Kylian wakes up, stretching and yawning. He looks at me with those beautiful eyes of his, filled with love and anticipation.

"Good morning, my love," he says, his voice husky from sleep.

"Morning," I reply, smiling as he pulls me into a warm embrace.

He kisses my forehead. "Today’s the day we move. Are you ready?"

"More than ready," I say, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. We share a tender kiss before heading downstairs to our waiting car.

The ride to the airport is filled with light conversation and laughter. Kylian's hand never leaves mine, his thumb gently stroking my skin. The city of Paris rushes by outside the window, but my focus is entirely on him. He looks so calm, so confident, and it reassures me.

As we board the private plane, I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement. The flight attendants greet us warmly, and we settle into our seats. Kylian wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

"Can you believe it? We’re actually moving to Madrid," he says, his voice filled with awe.

"I know. It feels surreal," I reply, resting my head on his shoulder. "But I’m so proud of you."

He kisses the top of my head. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N."

The flight is smooth, and we spend most of it cuddled together. Kylian talks about his dreams and plans for his career in Madrid, and I listen, my heart swelling with pride. Every now and then, he kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my lips – each touch sending shivers down my spine.

Upon landing in Madrid, we are greeted by a driver who takes us to our hotel. The energy of the city is palpable, and I can feel the excitement of the fans already. Our suite is nothing short of spectacular, with a breathtaking view of Madrid.

Kylian takes my hand, pulling me close to the window. "Look at this, Y/N. Our new home," he says, his voice filled with wonder.

I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into me. "It’s beautiful, just like you," I murmur.

He turns to face me, his hands cradling my face. "Not as beautiful as you," he whispers before kissing me deeply. Our kiss is filled with promise and passion, a silent vow of the future we are about to build together.

We decide to take the rest of the day to relax and adjust to our new surroundings. We explore the hotel, take a leisurely walk around the nearby area, and enjoy a quiet dinner together. Every moment is precious, and I savor the time we have to just be with each other.

The morning of Kylian’s medical tests, we wake up early. I make sure he has a nutritious breakfast, knowing he’ll need the energy. He takes my hand as we head to the medical facility, his grip firm and reassuring.

The facility is state-of-the-art, filled with bustling staff and high-tech equipment. Kylian is taken to a room for his tests, and I wait in a comfortable lounge area. My heart races with anticipation and pride. As I sit there, I receive reassuring texts from him, letting me know that everything is going smoothly.

After what feels like an eternity, he emerges with a confident smile. "All good," he says, pulling me into a hug.

"I never doubted it," I reply, kissing his cheek.

We head to the Real Madrid headquarters next, where he’ll sign his contract. The atmosphere is electric, filled with anticipation and excitement

The room where Kylian will sign his contract is grand, with an air of importance. As we enter, we’re greeted by club officials and media personnel. I take a seat beside Kylian, our fingers intertwined.

The club president gives a brief speech about Kylian’s achievements and the club’s excitement to have him join. Then, Kylian is handed the contract. He takes a moment to look at me, his eyes filled with emotion.

"Ready?" he asks softly.

"Always," I whisper back.

He signs the contract, officially becoming a Real Madrid player. The room erupts in applause, and I can’t help but beam with pride. Kylian pulls me into a celebratory kiss, his lips warm and soft against mine.

After the signing, we move to the press conference room. Kylian takes his place at the front, and I find a spot where I can see him clearly. The room is packed with journalists, cameras flashing nonstop.

Kylian looks calm and composed as he begins answering questions. His eyes occasionally find mine, and we share silent, affectionate glances.

"How does it feel to finally be a part of Real Madrid?" a journalist asks.

"It’s a dream come true," Kylian responds. "I’ve always admired this club, and I’m excited to contribute to its success."

He glances at me, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. I smile back, giving him a small nod of encouragement.

"Can you tell us about your decision to join Real Madrid?" another journalist inquires.

Kylian takes a deep breath, his gaze flickering to me before he speaks. "It was a tough decision, but ultimately, I felt that Real Madrid was the right place for me to continue my career. The club has a rich history and a passionate fan base, and I’m looking forward to being a part of that."

Our eyes meet again, and he subtly nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. I can’t help but feel a swell of pride and love for him.

Throughout the press conference, we share these silent moments of connection. When he talks about his family and his support system, his eyes soften, and I know he’s thinking of me. I feel a sense of pride and warmth wash over me, knowing that I am a part of his journey.

The next day, we head to the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium. The stands are filled with ecstatic fans, all eager to welcome their new star. The energy is electric, and Kylian steps up to the podium, looking every bit the confident and poised athlete he is.

"Hola, Madridistas," he begins, his voice strong and confident. "This is a dream come true for me. I’ve always admired this club, and I’m excited to be here."

He pauses, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before settling on me. "I want to thank my mom, my dad, my siblings, and my incredible wife, Y/N, for always supporting me. Without their love and encouragement, I wouldn’t be standing here today."

His mom is in tears, and I quickly move to her side, wiping away her tears and rubbing her back comfortingly. "He’s amazing," I whisper, and she nods, smiling through her tears.

Kylian continues his speech, talking about his goals and aspirations for his time at Real Madrid. His passion and dedication are evident, and I can see the fans are just as captivated as I am.

"I promise to give my all for this club and its fans," he says, his voice filled with determination. "Together, we will achieve great things, ¡HALA MADRID!

The crowd roars in approval, and I feel a swell of pride and love for him. He glances at me, and I give him an encouraging smile.

After his speech, it’s time for the family photo. His parents step onto the stage, posing proudly with him. Kylian looks around and notices I’m not there. He signals for me to join them, but I shake my head, indicating I’ll stay out of the picture. He doesn’t take no for an answer. Walking over to me, he takes my hand and leads me onto the stage.

"You're part of this family, Amore. Always," he whispers, his eyes locking with mine.

We pose for the picture, standing next to the Real Madrid president. I feel Kylian’s arm around my waist, holding me close. The camera flashes, capturing this unforgettable moment.

The rest of the day is a blur of celebrations and fan greetings. Kylian walks around the stadium, shaking hands and thanking the fans. I watch him, my heart swelling with pride and love. When we finally return to our hotel room, we’re both exhausted but elated.

As soon as we close the door behind us, Kylian pulls me into his arms, kissing me passionately. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you," he murmurs between kisses.

We collapse onto the bed, cuddling close. He becomes clingy, holding me tightly as if afraid to let go. "What do you think our life will be like here?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder.

"I think it will be amazing," I reply, running my fingers through his hair. "We have each other, and that’s all we need."

He smiles, kissing me gently. "I love you so much, Y/N."

"I love you too, Kylian," I whisper, our foreheads touching. "Forever."

We spend the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about the day and dreaming about our future in Madrid. Every kiss, every touch, and every word is filled with love and promise. This is the start of a beautiful new chapter in our lives, and I couldn’t be happier to share it with the love of my life

After a while of Kylian and I having our conversation and he's fallen asleep on my stomach, I decide to check people's reactions and what they thought, occasionally smiling at their comments

@FabrizioRomano: 🚨 Official and confirmed: Kylian Mbappé is now a Real Madrid player. Contract signed until 2028. Here we go! #HalaMadrid ⚪️🔴

@RMadridUpdates:The King has arrived! Welcome to Real Madrid, Kylian Mbappé! This is going to be legendary! #Mbappe2028

@FootballAddict: Mbappé to Real Madrid is the biggest transfer of the decade! Can’t wait to see him in white. #Galactico #Mbappe

@LaLigaLover:With Mbappé at Real Madrid, La Liga just got a whole lot more exciting! Let's go! #HalaMadrid #Mbappe

@KylianFanClub: So proud of Kylian! He’s finally living his dream. Real Madrid is the perfect place for him. #Mbappe2028

@RomanticSportsFan: Did anyone else notice the way Kylian kept looking at his wife during the press conference? So much love! #RelationshipGoals #MbappeLove

@FootballGossip: Kylian Mbappé’s wife might be the real MVP here. Those supportive glances and little gestures... True love! #Mbappe

@FanGirlCentral:Okay, but the way Kylian’s wife wiped his mom’s tears and rubbed her back was so sweet. She’s already a fan favorite! #MbappeFamily

@TheRealMadridista: Mbappé signaling his wife to join the family photo... Can we talk about how cute that was? #CoupleGoals #Mbappe

@SportsRomantics: Watching Kylian and his wife exchange those little glances during his speech was everything. You can tell they’re so in love. #MbappeLoveStory

@RealMadridFans: A new chapter begins with Kylian Mbappé at Real Madrid! His wife is such a supportive partner. We stan! #HalaMadrid #Mbappe

   - Comment: @LoveFootball: The way he looked at his wife during the press conference was just 🥺❤️ True love! #MbappeLove

@FootballRomantics: The way Kylian looked at his wife during the press conference was just... 🥺❤️ True love right there. #Mbappe

   -Comment: @GoalDreams: They’re such a beautiful couple! #CoupleGoals

@SportsLoveStory:Did you see how Kylian walked over to his wife and brought her onto the stage? My heart! #CoupleGoals #Mbappe

   -Comment:@FanZone: That was the cutest thing ever! They belong together. #MbappeFamily

@FootballMoments:That moment when Kylian’s wife comforted his mom was so touching. She’s already part of the family. #MbappeFamily

   - Comment: @TearsOfJoy: She’s such a sweetheart! #FamilyFirst

@MadridistaLove: Kylian and his wife’s love story is the real deal. Watching them today was like a movie. #MbappeLove

  - Comment:@FootballHeart: True love exists and they are the proof! #HalaMadrid

Overall I'm just so happy that Kylian was able to fulfill his dream and I'm so honoured to be stood by his side as he makes this transition

[sunny44]

Karting days with the Leclerc’s

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wife!reader

Warnings: nothing I guess

Summary: It's yours and Charles son's first karting competition and he's nervous and excited at the same time so Charles tries to calm him down before the start.

It's Jules' first kart race, and Y/n and I are filled with excitement. As I watch my son, Jules, eagerly getting ready for the race, I can't help but feel a mix of pride and nerves.

We were arriving at the race track and Jules couldn't contain his happiness, it was the first time he'd run in a competition.

I remember the feeling and I can tell you that I was just as excited as he was.

"I'm afraid he'll explode with excitement before the race starts." My wife says and I start laughing.

"Well, that could happen." She laughs and Jules goes into the garage where his kart was.

"I can't stand this heat any longer." She says using her hand as a fan. "I think pregnant women get hotter than normal."

"Let's see if we can get you a fan." She agreed and there was a sofa and a fan in the garage, and that's where she stayed.

"Dad." He calls me and I go over to him. "I'm nervous."

"It’s ok buddy, it's normal."

"But what if I don't make it to the end of the race? What if I crash or lose?"

"It'll be fine, if you lose mom and I will be here for you and if you win we'll be here to celebrate too." He agrees. "Sometimes losing teaches us more than winning."

"What do you mean?"

"That this sport is not just about winning, you know that I don’t win all the time but you have to do you best and if you do your best you will be rewarded with victories.” He nodded and smiled. “Got it?”

"Got it." He says and goes off to get his clothes.

I carefully assist him in putting on his racing suit, making sure every zipper is secure and every strap is properly fastened. His eyes sparkle with anticipation as I adjust his helmet, ensuring a snug and safe fit.

"Are you ready, champ?" I ask with a reassuring smile.

Jules nods enthusiastically, his small hands gripping the steering wheel of his kart in the garage. He may be just starting out, but I can already see the determination in his eyes.

As a father and a racing driver myself, I know the importance of this moment.

It's not just about the race, it's about the lessons he’ll learn on and off the track. Together, we'll tackle this new adventure, and who knows, maybe one day he'll follow my footsteps.

But for now, it's all about that first thrilling race in the world of karting.

Bonus scene!

Y/nleclerc instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc, @pescaleleclerc, @pierregasly, @yourmom and others 927392

Y/nleclerc My baby Jules had his first official karting race today and I’m so happy

Tagged: @Charlesleclerc

Charlesleclerc I’m so proud of him

Y/nleclerc we both are

Pierregasly my nephew is the best

Pescaleleclerc love you guys

Charlesleclerc we love you too maman

User927 his name is Jules 🥹

[oepionie]

A DIFFERENT TYPE OF CONTRACT. azul ashengrotto

"…You already hate me as it is so it’s not like i have nothing to lose here."

Synopsis: Azul has dragged you into contract after contract and you've taken it all like a champ. However, when he asks you to be his date for an event, you become so upset that an argument breaks out. In the midst of it, Azul accidentally blurts out his feelings for you.

Character/s: Azul Ashengrotto x GN! Reader

A/N: GUYS IM SO PROUD OF THIS WORK HEHE

Tags: Slight enemies-to-lovers, Fluffy Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Mentions of drowning, Slight manipulation, Crying, Azul's love language is dragging you into contracts lol

Word Count: 1.1k+ | 🎸Event Masterlist

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.” You shake your head, barking out laughter. Floyd gleefully laughs along with you, skipping forward and jabbing a heavy hand against your back. The action made you stumble to the floor, which only served to further intensify your anger towards the octopus and his little hench-eels. "Another one of your stupid contracts?!" 

Azul smiles coolly, clasping his hands atop his table loaded with shimmering magical contracts and various ink pots — all meticulously arranged in an orderly layout, of course. He snapped his fingers and Jade strode over, swiftly handing his 'boss' a singular sheet of paper.

"Why, of course!" Azul's eyes crinkled in mirth as he turned the paper to face you. A leather-clad finger pressed against the sheet, pointing to the title. "How could I not pass up an opportunity like this?"

"EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT" was written in bold cursive lettering, the bleeding dark black ink making it pop out and almost seem as if it was mocking you in your predicament. Your jaw dropped, a look of surprise flashing across your face before a scowl quickly replaced it. "Me?! How desperate are you for new employees?"

“Oh, such an insult to my pride as an entrepreneur! I would never employ anyone I deem…" Azul scrutinizes you with calculating eyes, tucking one arm over his chest as the other fixes his glasses. He rises from his chair and circles around you, his polished shoes clicking against the marble tiles of his office. "…unfit.”

"Yeah~ You're the perfect shrimpy for the job!" Floyd pulled you from your position on the floor, shoving a uniform in your arms. You take a gander at the clothes. It might’ve been the trick of the eye or the light inside the lounge, but the silk almost seemed to have a mystical glow and shimmer. Your eyes dart up to the trio, hesitation crawling up the very depths of your heart.

All three men exchanged sardonic smiles with sly glints in their eyes. It's unusual for a stranger to pique their curiosity, but you possessed something most of their victims don't: you were such an odd little human.

"Welcome to the staff, prefect." Jade smiles curtly. "I do hope you don't disappoint."

—

It's official, you hate fish.

Working in Monstro Lounge for the past few weeks was nothing but underwater hell. Truly, you had to give both Jade and Floyd credit for having the patience—or rather, tolerance—to deal with all these self-important customers. If you had to make another 'double blend venti coffee frappuccino with whipped cream, additional ice, honey blend, and caramel drizzle' order for that one Pomefiore regular, you think you might have just lost your mind.

As if the annoying customers weren't already enough, Azul was always requesting for further favors. Really, there were occasions when you felt more like his personal secretary. If it was actually stated in the tiny fine print of the contract, you wouldn't be a surprise.

You've been left victim to all his schemes and whims. Though you could say with confidence that you were able to handle every single demand thrown your way, it's not like you really had a choice in the first place. You had boundaries and this one request of his might just finally push you over the edge.

"I need you to act as my date for an event."

"…y-you want me to what?" You sputtered, features contorting into a grimace. Azul stared at you indifferently, casually looking over his pile of paperwork. So struck by anguish, you failed to see how his hands trembled or how a pink hue spread across his face. 

"A-Ah, you see, I'm under a time constraint and seeing as you're the only one available, you may accompany me." Azul replied, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. "T-There's no one else to run to, so I'll have to settle for you."

'I'll have to settle for you.' The way he said it so nonchalantly and bluntly made you gnash your teeth together. How could he just push you aside like that? Like you were just some insignificant bystander in his life.

"Using me again, huh?" You laughed bitterly, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Stupid. You were so stupid for developing feelings for this octopus. Azul blinked at you owlishly, watching as a lone tear ran down your cheek. "Pardon…?"

"Nevermind that. Screw this, I'm leaving!" You pulled your suit jacket off, discarding it onto the floor as you cut across the tables, moving towards the exit. Azul scurried after you, protests shooting out of his mouth.

"You-! We have a contract you can't just do as you wish!" He bellows, unadulterated anger coiling around him in a ruthless grip. The octopus seized you by the arm, yanking you around to face him. Scoffing, you attempt to shove him away, but he grabs you by your elbows. "Great Sevens—Damn me! Why are you so stubborn, prefect?!"

"Why can't you just let go?! What is with you and dragging me into contracts?!" You shriek, lifting your knees to kick at his shins.

"​It's because I like you!" Azul bellows, grasping onto your shoulders, his chest heaving. Clamping your mouth shut, you fell silent. The octopus's eyes widened with saturated horror as he scurried away from you, disregarding the sickening vertigo in his head in his haste.

"Sevens—I'm so careless." Azul groans, dragging a hand down his face before pounding his fist against a table. He tugs at his hair, doubling over as a wave of nausea hits him.

"W-What?" you ask, tone wavering. You moisten your lips as you meet the merman’s eyes. "Azul, what?"

He peers at you through his parted fingers, shakily standing straight once more.

"…You already hate me as it is, so it’s not like i have nothing to lose here." He breathlessly blunders out, eyes glossy with tears from being overcome with embarrassment. "I like you. I-I've liked you ever since the very day I met you."

Fear gripped him right down to his soul as his heart was left torn open; Bare for you to see. He comes to a halt, feet anchored to the floor, as you ponder the gravity of his confession.

Is this how sailors reacted to the song of a siren? You knew all too well that the minute you accepted, Azul would lure you into the depths of his heart, where you would never again be able to emerge. Would you sacrifice the world above to drown for your infatuation yet be rewarded with love from a charming octopus below?

"Azul…" You whisper, deft fingers creeping up his hot cheeks. He shudders at your touch, turning putty under your frigid, piercing gaze. Azul's mouth parts open, but words fail him.

"I'll be your date. Though you really don't need a contract for that." Leaning forward, you pressed a scorching kiss against his lips and the deal was set.

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad

↳ want to be added?

[onyourowndaisymae]

obey me characters hands hcs (demon brothers, dateables, + side characters)

college has whooped my ass but your girl has officially graduated with two degrees!! finally!! hopefully i will be able to get out more writing soon. i think i am also going to tweak my request rules in the coming days to make writing easier on myself and my schedule, so expect that soon. anyways enjoy these random headcanons that came to mind one night out of nowhere

content warnings: none

Lucifer

lucifer is usually wearing gloves, so you rarely get to see or feel his hands. so when you do, it's a treat.

his hands are cold, but not unbearably so. they perpetually feel like he's been out in the cold just a few minutes too long. when he touches your bare skin, it makes you jump-- but keep them close for a few minutes and you'll chase the cold away completely.

his hands are soft. probably not super surprising considering he's always wearing gloves, but it's still pleasant.

he's got big ass, strong hands. they may be soft, but that doesn't mean they're weak. lucifer is the type of person that could open a jar for you with such ease that he'd almost look disappointed in your weak little human arms. if he's in a good mood, he might tease you about it.

he's pretty pale, so you can see the color of his veins under his skin. he's also got just a few prominent veins-- nothing excessive, but just enough to hit that sweet spot between too much and not enough.

his nails are always pristine. he's the avatar of pride. do you think he'd willingly walk around with chipped nail polish? if something somehow happens, they will be redone by the next day, almost like they'd never chipped in the first place. either he'll call asmo over to fix them, or fix them himself, depending on how much time he has.

Mammon

mammon has pleasantly warm hands. sometimes they get a little sweaty, but it's not much of a problem honestly. he's like a nice little heating pack on a winter day. because his hands are warm, though, yours usually feel cold to him... and he will complain. it's mammon.

his hands are also pretty soft. gotta look nice, y'know? i can see him keeping lotion (and chapstick-- not relevant here but it's worth a mention regardless) on his person pretty often. this came about bc he got tired of the lotion he borrowed from asmo smelling all perfume-y getting him odd looks.

this man is always wearing at least one ring and you cannot convince me otherwise. i can see him wearing a lot of matching gold ring sets. they just look like they belong on him, y'know?

i think he's got a few subtle veins across his hands. he knows that people like that, so i think he's pretty proud of his hands. he even takes care to avoid chipping or otherwise messing up his nails so the whole look will stay cohesive.

Leviathan

oh you know this man's hands are clammy as fuck. sorry bud. facts are facts.

he's blessed with very pretty hands. his nails just grow in a pretty shape (and asmo makes sure to keep them that way), his fingers are slender and proportional, his hands are a normal size, and his skin stays pretty moisturized, even in harsh weather. he doesn't have to try. which is good, because we all know he wouldn't.

i think levi actually hates the feeling of rings and hand jewelry. he'd fidget with it too much and eventually become so aware of it that he'd need to take it off before he goes crazy. if he gets married and wears a traditional wedding ring, it would have to fit perfectly and be very comfortable for him to eventually get used to it.

levi picks at the pads of his fingers a lot when he's anxious, but he's not super prone to scaring there, so it isn't super noticeable. he'll go through bursts of trying to break this habit where he covers his poor hands in vaseline, but nothing even quite breaks him of it.

Satan

satan has hands crafted by god specifically to play piano and look nice holding books. look at him. there's no way he'd have ugly hands. they're soft and pretty, but i think he has to put more effort than expected into maintaining them.

he's another one that i think would be anti-ring for much of the same reason as levi. i think it would just feel odd on his fingers and he'd get irritated by their presence. he's okay wearing bracelets though.

his hands, slender and pretty as they remain, are also quite strong. he's the avatar of wrath, after all. he's probably the second or third best to go to when you need a tough jar opened.

his nails and cuticles always look presentable, but i think he finds grooming them unpleasant. he lets asmo do it for him-- the younger one's chattering distracts him from the irritating feeling of pushed back cuticles and trimmed hangnails. his hands aren't naturally soft, either, but asmo has developed a routine for him so they stay nice with a bit of regular (secret) effort. satan's all about seeming effortlessly perfect, after all, and his hands are no exception.

Asmo

softest hands in the entire cast. simeon and mephistopheles are good competitors, but this is not a battle he will lose.

his nails are always perfectly manicured and soft. he's got a million different lotions scatter across his room, the HoL, RAD, etc., all to make sure he never encounters even a hint of dry skin. he's got emergency nail polish, too, just incase a nail were to chip while he's out and about.

asmo reaches a lot for daintier, tasteful jewelry. think small rings, delicate bracelets, pretty gemstones, the works. he's very particular about matching the jewelry both to his outfit AND his nails.

he doesn't have any visible veins, so his hands seem inhumanly perfect at times. he likes this. compliment his hands and he'll swoon-- not that he cares more about them than the rest of his body, but because it shows you notice the smaller details he puts effort into, and he appreciates it.

Beel

big boy's got big ass hands. even if you're grown yourself, putting your palms against his will make you feel like a kid again. he could palm a basketball like shaq.

he's got his fair share of callouses. i think he mostly leaves them alone because they serve the purpose of improving his grip, which is nice for the gym or fangol. asmo probably gets on him for it, but beel doesn't care enough to do something about it. i can also see him having quite a few prominent veins on both hands.

his hands fluctuate in temperature a LOT. it's pretty unpredictable, too. you can touch his hand and find it scorching hot, then touch it again ten minutes later to find it eerily lukewarm. nobody knows why this happens.

beel has to be very conscious of his hygiene, or his hands will get really dirty in a matter of minutes. he's constantly eating and touching things, so he needs to either be careful or have a napkin on hand. i think lucifer carries hand sanitizer for this exact reason (although he won't admit it).

Belphegor

belphegor's hands are upsettingly lukewarm. it's like touching things or inclimate weather has no effect on him. they're always lazily warm, like a glass of water sitting out in the sun.

his hands stay soft mainly because he doesn't do much with them. he is, however, prone to hangnails. he's lazily bite them off and accidentally cause more in the process-- not that he particularly cares.

he leaves nail and hand maintenance in asmo's hands. he'll let the fifth born do anything to them so long as he gets to sleep through it.

not anti-jewelry/rings per se, but doesn't care enough about it to a) put any on, or b) make sure he doesn't lose whatever he's wearing that day. if it somehow falls off, the most you're getting from him is a quick look around, unless the piece was really meaningful and/or borrowed.

Diavolo

is anyone surprised to hear that diavolo has massive, strong hands? no? didn't think so.

he's got really thick fingers, too. you feel like a toddler comparing hand sizes with him. he's just a mountain of a man.

his hands are always hot but never sweaty. it's comforting most of the times, but if you're already hot his touch is like fire. dawg. don't touch me. i'm sweating. his entire body is like this, too.

his nails are always very particularly manicured (it's an image thing) and fairly soft. he cares enough to use lotion but not enough to carry it. he's not one to be super vain in that regard.

there's a tasteful amount of veinage on this prince's hands. enough to be attractive, but not enough to make him seen overworked or to age him.

Barbatos

definitively the coldest fucking hands in the entire cast. barbatos' hands are cold enough to wake the dead with just a touch.

his hands are always covered by gloves as well, so they're not as rough as you'd expect. still, though, the butler is always keeping his hands busy, so i imagine there are still some minor calluses across his hands. nothing enough to be super noticable, but still there.

he's got long, slender fingers. very regal. his hands themselves are average sized. compared to someone like diavolo, though, they're dainty.

his hands are also very pale, but for some reason you can't spot a single vein. it's odd. you can see the tendons and bones shift when he moves so you know his hands are built like normal... but something about the veins just seems so odd. mammon tricked luke into thinking barbatos doesn't have any blood, so that's why no one can see his veins. this is wrong, but luke is too polite to ask about it. (the real explanation is that, although he's pale, he's got pretty thick skin-- demon perks-- so you don't really see much below it).

Simeon

simeon's hands are pleasantly warm at all times. you can feel the heat through his gloves. it's just a very comforting thing-- he'll hold your hand anytime you ask, so don't be afraid to ask if you're a little chilly or in need of some reassurance.

when he takes the gloves off, his hands are silky smooth. did you expect anything different? i can see him being very methodical abut hygiene in general, and in this case i think he's always using a nice lotion on his hands before he puts his gloves on for the day. when they come off, his hands are soft and sweet-smelling-- like cocoa butter and vanilla.

he doesn't paint his nails or anything, but they always look very nice. his liberal use of lotion pairs well with his other grooming habits. his cuticles are never overgrown, his nails are always short and uniform, and his nail beds are healthy and clear. it's minor, but it just adds to the overwhelming perfection that simeon exudes.

Solomon

solomon's hands are somehow both clammy AND cold. pick a struggle, peepaw.

on the plus side, his hands are soft. even in the winter, solomon never has to worry about rough knuckles or dry skin. which is good, because you cannot convince me that this man would remember to regularly apply lotion. he's a menace.

his hands are pale, like the rest of them, but also more veiny than i think most would anticipate. he's got one prominent one heading to his ring finger, and the rest are a bit smaller but still noticeable. his pale skin allows you to see the blue of his veins underneath. they're interesting to just stare at at watch move when he flexes his fingers.

i can see him wearing a ring or two on occasion. i don't think he'd care a whole lot about the aesthetics, but i think he'd put in enough effort to wear gold when his outfit has gold and switch to silver when wearing outfits with silver in them. it's a small thing, but it lets your know he's putting in at least a little thought.

Luke

luke has got such little, cute hands. his fingers are small and a little stubby, just like his nails. his nails also grow slowly, too, so he doesn't have to do much to keep them presentable.

unfortunately, they're often a little sticky. he bakes a lot, and while he's not usually dirty or messy, he's still young and somehow just attracts stickiness like any other child. it's especially bad when he uses honey in his recipes-- his hands are perpetually sticky for like two or three days after, no matter how often he washes his hands.

luke is a nervous little child, and for that i could see him being someone that picks at his cuticles. simeon gently discourages this habit, but at the end of the day he can't do much but make sure they heal properly.

BONUS:

Thirteen

she gives barbatos a run for his money in the cold hand competition. her fingers are ice. unlike barbatos, she will use this to her advantage. you'll find her frigid fingers on the back of your neck or under the hem of your shirt when you least expect it. she doesn't have any reason to do this. she just thinks it's funny.

her hands are a little dry, mainly around the knuckles. she strikes me as someone that constantly rubs her dry hands together and bitches about needing lotion, while simultaneously never remembering her own. she probably bums a dab of lotion off of someone ever day (i'm thinking asmo).

her nails are always really nice. they're just naturally shaped really well, round at the top and pretty straight. they're strong and don't break easy, which is good, because a hangnail can throw off her concentration for an entire afternoon.

Raphael

like belphegor, raphael's hands are an upsetting temperature-- no matter how warm or cold your hands are, his feel lukewarm against yours. it should literally be impossible, but then again, a lot of things you've encountered in the devildom should be impossible.

he's got some calluses. they're pretty interesting, honestly-- if he was a human, he'd have the bumpy, dry hands of a weathered veteran or lonely woodworker, all rough skin and long years embedded into his flesh. but he's an angel. the calluses on his hands are small and fairly easy to miss if you don't touch him. but run your hand along the ridges of his fingers or the fatty parts of his palms and you'll find them just fine.

raphael has really pretty nail beds. something about the way they look is just so clean and nice. he never has overgrown cuticles or anything, either. just really nice hands for a man that does not spare a single thought to the way they look.

Mephistopheles

this man has hands like butter. they're just so soft and luxurious. you think they'd be a bit more rugged seeing as he's a rich boy with a penchant for horseback riding, but no. i can see him being very anal about his hands. they're always soft with not a callous or imperfection in sight.

speaking of perfect, this motherfucker has amazing nails. they're just a tad longer than you'd expect to be traditionally "masculine", but that just enhances how slender and pretty his fingers look. no wonder he's always pointing and gesturing so dramatically-- he's gotta show off all that hard work!

pretty boy here just has really nice, strong hands. not really veiny, but very smooth and even. his palms are a bit lighter than his skintone, naturally, but across the board there's no discoloration or scarring to be seen. you can tell he's a noble just by looking at his hands.

he's usually in those gloves but, if not, i could see him being a rings kinda guy. only tasteful ones, though, and in moderation. not like mammon.

[lenafromthenordiccoven]

Yes, ma'am | Bob Floyd x f!pilot!reader

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x f!Pilot!reader

Requested? no (unless you count my own brain pestering me with this)

Rating: M – MDNI 18+

Word count: 4370

Warnings: Pilot!reader,  switch!Bob, switch!reader, light fingering, oral (f!receiving) unprotected PinV (be smart and wrap it, folks), breeding kink, Bob Floyd fucks, Navy and Air Force inaccuracies are probably gonna pop up here and there, super self-indulgent

Summary: After six years of training, you’re finally graduating from flight school as one of the first female Eurofighter Typhoon drivers in the Austrian Air Force. Your boyfriend of six and a half years, Bob, has supported you every step of the way. And now? Now it’s time to celebrate his newly graduated, freshly made Lieutenant, girlfriend.

Read on ao3

A/N: Listen, this is gonna be SUPER self-indulgent, ‘kay? Thanks to TGM, the Austrian airshow “Airpower” in 2022 and the internships I’ve done with the AAF, I’mma try to enter flight school for the Eurofighter Typhoons once I’m done with my MA. This translator wants to flyyy, baby! 😂 So, this is my brain keeping me motivated to train for the entry exam by giving me ideas of what it could be like to actually do it and graduate. Also, I’m a slut for Bob Floyd. What else is new? 😂 This is basically an extension of @attapullmans International Bob Floyd Fucks month. I wanted to have this up by the end of January but didn’t have time. (Song to listen to for this would be Tell Me The Truth by Two Feet.)

Six years. You’d been waiting for this moment for six years. Had worked hard for it. And now, as officers, family and other invitees were applauding and two of the Typhoons soared overhead, you were officially being dismissed as a Second Lieutenant for the first time. The first female Typhoon driver in the Austrian Air Force. And yet, it didn’t feel real. Not the way your classmates, other pilots with the rotary wing or other fixed-wing aircraft, clapped you on the back as they cheered. And certainly not the way your boyfriend of almost seven years, who’d been there for you every step of the way since you’d told him you wanted to try out for the Air Force when you’d first started dating, was grinning at you. No, he was positively beaming.

The fact that your parents hadn’t been able to make it to your graduation might’ve dampened your mood, if Bob wasn’t looking at you with so much love and pride, it made your own chest swell. You’d done it. Despite what everyone else and your own mind had told you from time to time, you’d made it. And, to be honest, you’d been terrified of Selection Day. Scared that even after already three years of consistently being top of the class and adamant about wanting to fly the Typhoon, your superior officers would tell you, they’d assign you to the helicopters or air transport.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as you pushed through the crowd and finally reached Bob. You were trembling by now, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, the world coming back into focus. And with it, the thought that you had to get Bob out of here as soon as possible. He’d chosen to wear his dress whites, while you were in your dress uniform with its grey jacket and grey pants (thank god, they’d actually let you choose whether you wanted to wear a skirt or pants and nobody had pitched a fit when you’d gone for the pants, explaining that you would “stick out like a sore thumb as is”, you didn’t want to add to that by being the only person wearing a skirt. The other female cadets in your class had all chosen the pants as well.) – and the new golden edelweiss on your collar. Fuck, if he didn’t look like he’d stepped off the pages of one of the romance novels you’d been devouring recently.

“Congratulations, darlin’. ‘m so damn proud of you,” he murmured before bending down to press his lips against yours in what had to be the most chaste kiss of the century. But you were still in sight of your superiors, so you couldn’t go too far. Especially since your relationship had already sparked enough gossip – and a three-hour briefing on what you could tell your boyfriend and what you couldn’t, not that you hadn’t figured out most of the things with you usually being on the receiving end of Bob’s professional silence. You didn’t feel like adding fuel to the fire, even though you positively ached to kiss Bob the way you really wanted to and to stick your hands in his hair and mess up that gelled back hairdo he was sporting.

You could feel your cheeks heat at the thought of how you didn’t even want him to take off his uniform. You just wanted to get him home and have him fuck you while he was still wearing his dress whites. “Thank you, baby,” you finally replied to Bob’s praise.

He raised an eyebrow and slightly cocked his head at your reaction, but you saw recognition bloom on his face when you lightly bit down on your bottom lip. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “Do we still have to go to any official dinners or parties, or do you think, we can jus’ sneak off?” His voice was rough, lower than it had been just a minute ago, and it sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

You briefly closed your eyes before you looked back up into those light blue eyes of his, trying to look as innocent as you could muster. “I’m afraid, there’s one more we have to go to. My new squad leader’s paying, and it would probably be good to get to know them a bit before next Monday. But I’m sure, they’ll understand if we don’t stay for too long.”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.” His lips stretched into a smirk, the kind of which you imagined only you saw on the regular, as another shiver raced down your spine and left goosebumps in its wake despite the June heat. Damn it. You knew, how much he liked it when you called him by his rank. But this? This was new. And you loved it. “You wanna take the lead when we get home?” He wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you in closer as you nodded.

“Hell yeah, I do.” You both chuckled at your response. Usually, you had no problem handing over control to Bob, especially in the bedroom. But sometimes, especially if things had been stressful and since you’d joined flight school, you liked to be the one to make him whimper and beg for a change. Tonight would not be any different. You grinned as your mind was already busy conjuring up ideas.

***

“Good god, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, he could talk that much,” you groaned when you finally entered your off-base apartment with Bob hot on your heels. Initially, you’d expected to only stay for maybe two hours with your new squad. But then time had stretched on and now it was almost ten pm. You were exhausted. But also restless. Besides, you actually had the weekend off, starting with Saturday tomorrow. And Bob would leave on Sunday evening, so who would fault you for not wanting to go to sleep yet?

You toed off your shoes as Bob closed and locked the door and then leaned his back against it. His eyes were closed, a sigh left his lips and for the first time since you’d picked him up from the airport, he looked tired. You inched closer to him, snuggling into his chest, despite his buttons and ribbons digging into your cheek. You could feel him relax against you, just as the tension finally left your own shoulders.

“You know,” you began to mumble into his jacket, “I’d get it if you wanted to go to sleep after today. We’ve still got tomorrow and Sunday after that.” You really would have understood if his response had been yes, wouldn’t have minded just curling into his embrace and against his warm body in bed as you both drifted off to sleep.

But to your surprise, he simply lightly pushed on your shoulders until he could get his fingers under your chin and tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “I might be tired, but that doesn’t matter. Haven’t seen you in months. Just wanna … feel you. Make you feel good.”

“You want to be a good boy for me?” you replied with your own question, your own fingers inching up his neck until you could caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch and then nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes were glued to yours, pupils blown a little wider than they had been just minutes before. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards when he heard the sharp intake of your breath at his words.

You groaned, squeezed your eyes shut and then leaned your forehead against his chest. His words only worsened the throbbing in your core, while you fought the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “I never thought, I’d actually like it when people call me that. Makes me feel so old.” You swallowed thickly. Well, you weren’t entirely honest. You’d thought about what it would be like to hear Bob call you “Ma’am” or by your rank. The two of you had tried it out once, where he’d called you cadet and you’d immediately shut him down. It had made you feel too small, by no fault of his really. You just hadn’t liked it. But this? Hearing him call you Lieutenant? Especially in this tone of his he sometimes got when he was particularly needy and wanted you to ride him. It ignited a whole new wave of desire in your core that quickly spread throughout your whole body.

He chuckled. You felt his chest vibrate underneath your cheek. “Now you understand what you do to me when you call me by my rank?” His hand came up to cup the back of your neck. Your eyes almost fluttered closed again just feeling his fingers brush against your skin.

“You wanted me to call you Lieutenant and Sir,” you started to defend yourself. Bob’s grip around the back of your neck tightened. Only lightly, but enough to make you take a half step back, so you could look him in the eyes properly. The light blue of his eyes was almost completely swallowed by his blown-out pupils now. His other hand took your wrist and brushed your hand against the growing tent in his pants.

You could see his nostrils flare when you flexed your hand and grabbed his dick over his pants, rolling the heel of your palm against his tip. He jerked, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand. He barely suppressed the moan bubbling out of his throat and you bit your lip to hide the grin threatening to break out on your face. “I know, you feel weird about people callin’ you ma’am at work. But when we’re off-duty and I call you that or by your rank, I don’t want you to ever think, it’s not a sign of my utmost devotion to you. I love you, Y/N. And I wanna make you feel good. Please. Lemme make you feel good. Show you how much I worship you, ma’am.”

He kept his eyes trained on yours as you leaned up on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ever so lightly. He groaned and chased after your lips, but you took another step back, took your hand away from his crotch in the process. “Well, then you better show me you mean it, Lieutenant. Don’t you think?” You began to slowly walk backwards into your small apartment, undoing the buttons on your uniform jacket as you watched him stalk after you.

While discarding your uniform, you were careful not to wrinkle it. You’d have to probably go to the designated dry cleaner’s anyway, but just wanted to be safe. A thought that immediately left your head when you saw Bob reach up to undo his own buttons. You surged forward, put a hand on his and then said: “Did I say, you could undress, Lieutenant?”

Bob’s gaze flicked from your face to your hand on his. You were pretty sure, he’d also eyed the semi-lacy bra peeking through your open shirt, but you couldn’t fault him. While your current underwear couldn’t possibly be classed as lingerie, you were wearing a pretty, white set that came with lace trim around the hems, was super soft and comfortable to wear – but also had your now pebbled nipples poking through the cloth. “No, ma’am. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Lieutenant. I’ll let it slide this time. But just so we’re both clear, the uniform stays on until I say otherwise, understood?”

Bob startled, blinked once, twice, before he stuttered: “S-say again?” In another instance you would have teased him for so easily falling back into the standard ICAO phraseology, but this time, you just smiled. You shrugged off your white shirt, relishing in the way his eyes tracked every little one of your movements. He licked his lips as you pressed your body against his, nudging his cock with your thigh. One of your hands travelled up his chest, over his ribbons. Your nails lightly scratched the skin of his neck until you could tangle your fingers into his hair. And you tugged. Not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough to elicit a broken moan.

“I said, the uniform stays on until I say otherwise.” You tugged again. “Did you understand me, Lieutenant Floyd? Or do I have to spell it out for you?” He leaned down a bit, until your faces were only inches apart.

You could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He would obey for now, play along with your little game, but you would definitely be having a conversation about your apparent uniform kink later. And you knew, he would use it against you when he could.

“Loud and clear, ma’am.” He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you a little closer, and you guessed, to keep your body pressed against his, give you a harder time to escape his grasp again.

“Good.” You pressed a small kiss to his lips, ducking away before he could deepen it. You started to back up again, into your bedroom while you opened the button and fly of your pants, pushed them down over your thighs and let them pool down at your feet. You heard him groan and felt his fingers lightly brush over your ass when you turned around to walk over to your bed. You swatted his hand away, then bent over to push down your panties.

Bob swore under his breath, and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face at his reaction. You’d soaked through your panties by now, knew he could see it. Was probably itching to bury his fingers and face in your pussy. But when you caught his gaze, your breath hitched in your throat and your overly confident, dominant persona faltered for a split second. Fuck. He looked like he was going to devour you the second he got his hands on you. For a moment, you wondered if you’d gone too far in teasing him this much.

“What’s your color, baby?” you asked and slowly sank down on the edge of the bed.

“Green. Still, very much green. But, damn, Y/N…” His gaze briefly landed on your pussy and the wetness you knew he could see staining your inner thighs. You swallowed, before you leaned back a bit, steadying yourself on your hands.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here and show me what other talents your mouth and those thick, nimble fingers of yours possess.” He didn’t even respond verbally this time, only made a sound that reminded you of a growl. He nodded, once, just a quick, curt movement of his chin. Then he closed the distance between the two of you in two long strides.

His hands were on you before you could even tell him to touch you. One of them cradled your head and pulled you closer, so he could crash his lips against yours in what you’d call a complete 180° turn from how you’d kissed on base earlier that day. You moaned into the kiss, tangled one of your hands into his hair and easily opened up for his tongue to slip into your mouth. His other hand wandered down, quickly squeezing your right breast before it dipped down between your legs.

“Bobby,” you gasped against his lips as he swiped his fingers through your folds and pressed his index finger lightly against your clit.

“What, no more orders for me, ma’am?” He smirked against your lips as you desperately shook your head. You’d thrown your persona out the window the minute he’d fully touched you. All that mattered was feeling his body against yours now. Nothing else.

“Fuck that. Need you to take over. Fuck me, Bob. Please.” You could barely suppress the moan ripping out of you as he quickly shoved two fingers inside of you.

He groaned into another kiss; you knew he could feel you clench around his fingers. How you grew even wetter. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll do anything you want if you ask me this nicely.”

When you opened your mouth to tell him what exactly it was you wanted, he gently withdrew his fingers from your pussy and pushed them past your lips instead. You closed your mouth around his fingers, letting your tongue swirl over the tips and let out a low moan at the taste – and the fact that he had just figured out what you wanted without you having to ask.

He slowly sank down on his knees in front of you, grabbed your thighs and placed them on either side of his head. He looked up at you, making you wonder if it was even possible for his eyes to grow even darker? Much like you, he’d foregone his usual glasses for the day and opted for contacts, making you almost miss the feeling of the frame digging into your skin. Without his gaze ever leaving your face, he turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of your inner thigh. “This what you were gonna ask me to do, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly, trying to push him closer to your core with your heel, but to no avail. “Yes.” Any other time you would have been fucking mortified at how needy and breathless you sounded, and he’d barely touched you. But you’d done the same to him, it was only natural, he’d turn the tables on you as soon as he got the chance. And you’d handed him the reins freely after all.

“Yes, what?” He’d practically growled the words, raised an eyebrow at you and slowly leaned closer to let his hot breath ghost over your now practically dripping pussy.

You swallowed again, scrambling to find your voice and command your tongue to move. “Yes, Sir.” You could barely hear his mumbled “Good girl” in response; your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, you wondered how he hadn’t heard it yet. And then he dove right in. Licking, sucking, groaning into you as he got a taste of you after you’d barely been able to even talk on the phone for months. You leaned back further, your mouth fell open and you let the moans and gasps flow freely. When you bucked your hips against his face, his left hand came up to grip your right hip; his right hand landed on one of your breasts, pulling down your bra, so he could grab at the flesh and roll your nipple between his fingers.

Your arms trembled underneath your weight as your hands dug into the duvet underneath you. You didn’t even hold back the praise, told him how good he made you feel. In return, he doubled down on his efforts of eating you out like he was a man starved. It didn’t take long for you to reach the edge, but Bob made no move to slow down. Instead, the hand that had been kneading your breast wandered down until he shifted his mouth to your clit and thrust three of his fingers back inside of you, curled them up to hit the spot that sent you careening over the edge with a litany of “Oh my God”s leaving your mouth.

Your arms had now fully collapsed under you as you slowly returned to your body and your chest heaved with every breath as you were gasping for air. Bob pulled off of you and crawled over you, light concern shone in his eyes as he asked if you were okay.

You nodded after a couple seconds of blinking and trying to regain your ability of speech. “That was …”

You’d trailed off and before you could pick up your train of thought, Bob interrupted you: “So, what else did you have in mind for tonight?” His left hand was drawing abstract shapes onto the skin of your right hip and stomach while he waited for your reply.

You groaned, closed your eyes and dragged a hand over your face. “I … hadn’t decided, actually. Either, I ride your cock or you bend me over and fuck me until I can’t walk.” You peered up at him through your lashes with a sheepish grin. You couldn’t place the origin of the flush creeping up your neck and spreading over your chest. It was either desire or embarrassment. Or, more likely, a mix of both.

He chuckled and let his head drop down for a quick peck against your lips, before he shook his head at you. “Jesus, Y/N.”

“Sor–” you’d almost said before a hand over your mouth silenced you.

“Don’t apologize for that. Besides, I did say, I’d do anything for you, didn’t I?” He smiled down at you as you nodded, still somewhat bashful at your suggestion. Without another word, Bob stood up and you whined at the loss of contact as his hands trailed off of you as well. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be right back where you want me. Where’d you put the condoms?”

Oh, that’s where he was going? No, no, no. That didn’t work with the fantasy you’d sketched out in your mind all week as you’d touched yourself – at night, in the shower… You sat up and grabbed his wrist with a hand to pull him back towards you. “No condom tonight. I’m on birth control anyway for my cramps. And I …” You looked down, wanting to look at your knees, but your gaze got caught on his dick straining against his pants.

“What is it, Y/N?” He leaned back down, put a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head backwards, so you had to look at him. You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes for a second, praying that he’d understand what you were trying to say. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Hm? Feel my cock inside of you, feel me come inside you?”

You nodded, breathed out another “Yes”.

Bob groaned in response. He squeezed his eyes shut, his lightly dominant persona leaving the room for a second as he looked at you again and quietly asked: “Is that why you want me to fuck you from behind?” Again, you could only nod and respond in a whisper.

He chuckled, gently cupping your cheek for a second and brought you in for a slow kiss. You practically melted into his touch and sighed against his lips when he pulled away again. “Well, lose the bra, turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart.” His voice was back to the low, darker and more dominant undertone. His gaze felt heavy on you as you scrambled to unhook the clasps of your bra behind your back and then threw the garment behind you. You’d pick it up later.

You scooted back onto the bed, before finally turning around and waiting for his next move on your hands and knees, completely bare before him now. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard him undo his belt and pull down the zipper of his pants. Goosebumps spread over your skin as his fingers traced your vertebrae and his lips pressed kisses against some of the healing bruises on your back. (Nobody had ever said, flying a fighter jet at hundreds of knots and with multiple Gs wouldn’t leave a mark on you.)

The buttons and ribbons on his jacket dug into your skin as he leaned over you, putting part of his body weight on you. He lightly nibbled on the junction of your neck and shoulder and you whined, pushing your ass back against his definitely rock-hard cock. He slipped into you easily, setting a pace that had you squeezing your eyes shut again as you let your head hang low and exposed your neck for his lips and tongue and teeth to mark you up as his, just as his cock marked your pussy.

He kept mumbling praises into your ear in-between groans and moans from both of you. But with how you’d worked each other up, it didn’t take long for either of you to get close to the edge again. “Fuck, darlin’. ‘m so close.”

“Please, Bobby. Come in me. Want to feel you.” You whined at a particularly rough thrust and your whole body shuddered when his fingers found their way down to your clit.

“Right there, Y/N. Just need you to come with me, ‘kay? Can you be a good girl and come with me?”

You weren’t sure if you’d replied to his words when your second orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. The wave of pleasure pulled you under and you distantly felt Bob’s hips stutter, then still, as he reached his own climax and spilled into you with a low, guttural groan and a mumbled “Fucking hell”.

It took a while for the ringing in your ears to fade out, your breathing normalized as did Bob’s. Although he didn’t move from his spot behind you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your back against his chest as he tipped the both of you over onto your sides. He kissed your shoulder.

“That how you imagined it, sweetheart?”

If you’d had any strength left in your body, you would have rolled over in his arms to look him in the eyes. But as it was, you simply craned your neck a bit, humming at the kiss that landed on your cheek in response. “Better. So much better.”

“’M glad. Have to take care of my new Lieutenant, don’t I?” You heard the grin in his voice and weakly rolled your eyes at the teasing lilt.

“Of course, you do. You’re always a good boy for me and take such good care of me.”

He groaned lowly and sunk his teeth lightly into your shoulder again. “If you keep that up, you won’t have to wait long for round two.”

You chuckled, before fully relaxing in his arms with a sigh. “Good. I was planning on riding your cock while you were still in your dress whites, anyway.”