#let it be known that i got this camera like the weekend of making this

[loppiopio]

out into the world.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

George with shy daughter of 2 years old that loves going to the races but don’t like attention

Raining 🌧

The rain drizzled over the paddock, casting a dull gray over the usual vibrant chaos of an F1 weekend. It wasn’t a torrential downpour, but just enough to dampen spirits and make everything feel a little colder, a little more overwhelming.

George adjusted the hood of his team jacket, glancing down at the small girl in his arms. Yn, his two-year-old daughter, was curled into his chest, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt underneath. She loved coming to the track with him, loved watching the cars and spending time in the Mercedes garage. But the attention? That, she wasn’t fond of.

George knew it the moment they stepped out of the hospitality area. The way her body stiffened slightly, how her small hands gripped him just a little tighter. The usual friendliness from the other drivers, the fans calling his name, the cameras flashing—it was all too much for her. She buried her face against his chest, barely peeking out when a familiar voice called to them.

“Yn!” Lando’s bright voice rang out as he jogged over, a grin on his face. He had known her since she was born, had been there at the hospital to visit when she was just a few days old. But even now, she remained hesitant around him.

“Hey, little one,” Lando greeted softly, crouching down to her level. “You’re back at the track, huh?”

Yn didn’t respond, just tightened her hold on George’s shirt and turned her head away.

“She’s a bit shy today,” George explained, rubbing her back gently.

Lando frowned slightly but nodded. “No worries. Maybe later, yeah?”

No answer. Yn simply nestled further into her dad’s embrace.

George sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He wasn’t going to push her. If she wasn’t in the mood for interaction, then that was that. He wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable just because others expected her to be more social.

As they made their way through the paddock, other drivers and staff greeted them, some attempting to talk to Yn, but she remained quiet, her little body curling tighter into George’s arms. By the time they reached the Mercedes garage, he was certain—today wasn’t a day where she wanted to deal with all the attention.

Toto was already standing near the monitors, arms crossed, observing the screens when George approached.

“Morning, boss,” George greeted, adjusting Yn’s position in his arms.

Toto looked up, taking in the sight of the little girl tucked against George’s chest, her eyes barely peeking out. “And good morning to you, Yn,” he said, his voice gentler than usual.

Yn didn’t respond, only shifting slightly.

George sighed. “She’s not feeling the attention today. Normally, she likes being around, but I can tell she’s not comfortable with how many people are trying to talk to her.”

Toto nodded in understanding. He had known Yn since she was a baby, had held her when she was just a few months old. She wasn’t a loud, attention-seeking child. She liked her small circle of people, and outside of that, she was reserved.

“I can watch her during FP1,” Toto offered, his tone casual, but George could see the sincerity in his expression. “She can sit with me. No one will bother her.”

George blinked, then let out a relieved breath. “You’d really do that?”

Toto scoffed. “Of course. She’ll be warm, and she’ll have a better seat than anywhere else in the garage.”

George looked down at his daughter. “What do you think, sweetheart? Want to stay with Uncle Toto for a bit while Daddy works?”

Yn finally lifted her head just enough to look at Toto. There was a long pause, then a tiny nod.

George smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before carefully handing her over. She settled into Toto’s arms without a fuss, and the team principal adjusted his hold with ease.

“She’s got her blanket in her bag,” George said. “And a snack if she wants it.”

Toto nodded. “We’ll be fine. Focus on FP1.”

George gave one last glance to his little girl before heading off to change into his race suit.

Yn sat comfortably on Toto’s lap, her tiny hands gripping the soft fabric of her blanket as she watched the monitors in front of them. The garage was busy, engineers moving about, mechanics preparing the car, but no one dared to disturb Toto, not with the way he sat there, his arm securely around the small child.

When a Mercedes engineer approached to discuss strategy, he barely got a word out before Toto shot him a look. A look that immediately sent the message: Not now.

The engineer swallowed. “Right. We’ll, uh, talk later.”

Yn didn’t seem to notice the exchange, too focused on the screen. She might not have understood all the numbers and strategies, but she recognized her dad’s car, knew how to watch the lap times change.

A few minutes later, someone else approached. It was Mick, holding a cup of coffee, his usual smile in place.

“Hey, boss. Hey, Yn,” Mick greeted.

Toto didn’t respond. He just looked at Mick.

The smile wavered slightly. “Right. You’re busy. Got it.” Mick took a slow step back before walking away.

Yn turned her head slightly, peeking up at Toto.

“You’re safe here, Schatzi,” Toto murmured, brushing a hand over her curls.

Yn blinked up at him before leaning back against his chest. She wasn’t tired, not really, but she felt warm, comfortable. She liked the steady heartbeat against her back, the feeling of security.

FP1 continued, and every time someone so much as thought about coming near, they stopped themselves at the sight of Toto’s unreadable expression.

At one point, Alex peeked into the garage, spotted Yn, and waved.

Yn lifted her tiny hand and waved back.

Alex grinned but didn’t approach, understanding the situation immediately. Instead, he gave Toto a thumbs-up before disappearing again.

By the time the session ended, George was back, still in his race suit, slightly damp from the lingering rain. He immediately made his way over.

“How’s my girl?” he asked, crouching down.

Yn turned her head, blinking sleepily at him. “Warm,” she mumbled.

George chuckled, reaching to take her from Toto. “That’s good. Thank you so much, boss. I really appreciate it.”

Toto simply nodded, watching as Yn settled back against her dad, wrapping her little arms around his neck.

“No need to thank me,” Toto said. “She’s always welcome here.”

George smiled, pressing another kiss to Yn’s forehead. “Still, means a lot.”

Yn yawned, rubbing her eyes. The rain continued to fall outside, but she didn’t mind. As long as she was with her dad, and the few people she trusted, she was happy.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hi loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[augustinewrites]

“itadori, please respect his personal space—”

“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”

“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”

peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.

you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.

a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.

[satoru]: send nudes?

you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.

peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.

he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.

but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.

when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.

luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.

he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.

[satoru]: haha jk

[satoru]: unless…?

huffing, you quickly type back a response.

[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.

[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)

“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”

“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”

yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!

megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.

sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.

thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.

he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.

your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.

[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?

[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…

[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you

oh, that’s actually kind of—

[satoru]: nude, preferably

maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.

[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.

there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.

[satoru]: shit

[satoru]: is this a scene?

you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.

[you]: i hate you

he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.

you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.

once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—

you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.

he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.

you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.

“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”

“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”

“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”

“a nap does sound kind of nice…”

he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.

“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”

it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.

so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.

because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.

[mrspiastri]

prompt 24 + oscar + coworker reader (pr/photographer) please?

oscar piastri x reader

prompt 24. “So, uh… do you wanna be my Valentine? No pressure, though. I mean, lots of pressure, but like, in a cute way.”

💌💌💌

Y/N had photographed Oscar Piastri hundreds of times before.

From race weekends to sponsor events, behind-the-scenes moments to dramatic podium shots—her camera had captured every version of him. The serious, race-focused Oscar. The rare, celebratory Oscar. The one who rolled his eyes whenever she asked him to pose but always did it anyway.

But today, something felt different.

She wasn’t behind the camera now—at least, not in the way she was used to. Instead, she stood off to the side of a McLaren media studio, observing as Oscar filmed a Valentine’s Day Q&A.

And for some reason, his answers kept throwing her off.

“All right, Oscar,” the interviewer said, flipping through their notes. “Let’s start with something simple. What’s your ideal type?”

Y/N expected something vague and rehearsed. Instead, Oscar tilted his head, considering. “Someone who keeps me on my toes,” he said. Then, with a slight smirk: “Maybe someone a little bossy.”

The crew chuckled. Y/N’s grip tightened on her camera strap.

The shoot continued, and it only got worse.

“Biggest green flag in a person?”

“Good under pressure. Knows how to take charge.”

“Dream date?”

“Something simple. A coffee shop, maybe. Or sitting in a hotel lobby, pretending we’re meant to be somewhere else.”

Y/N’s heart lurched.

The hotel lobby. Singapore. Last season.

She and Oscar had both been late for a press event, yet instead of rushing, they had sat down in the hotel lounge, pretending they had nowhere else to be. She had snapped a candid photo of him then—one of her favorites.

Now, Oscar was bringing it up here? On camera?

Her pulse spiked, but she forced herself to focus. She was working. She was supposed to be documenting this moment, not getting caught up in it.

Once the cameras stopped rolling, Y/N immediately busied herself checking photos on her camera, pretending her heart wasn’t hammering out of her chest.

She needed to get out of here before—

“Hey.”

She froze.

Oscar was standing next to her now, hands in his hoodie pockets, looking slightly nervous.

“Got a sec?” he asked.

Y/N hesitated. She glanced around—the crew was still here, but they were distracted, discussing clips for social media. She sighed, nodding. “Yeah.”

They stepped into a quieter part of the studio, where the overhead lights weren’t as harsh.

Oscar rocked back on his heels. “So… you gonna say anything about earlier?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Oscar. You practically confessed on camera.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

She shot him a look. “You know you did.”

Oscar sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… yeah. Kind of.”

Her heart pounded. “Why?”

He met her gaze, all teasing gone now. “Because I like you.” His voice was steady, but his fingers twitched slightly—a rare tell. “I have for a while.”

Y/N swallowed.

This was different from the usual back-and-forth between them.

This was real.

She gripped her camera tighter. “You’re serious?”

Oscar huffed a small laugh. “Would I joke about this?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

Because now, standing in this quiet corner of the studio, away from the bright lights and cameras, she realized—

She had always known.

It was in the way he lingered after media duties, making excuses to hang around while she sorted through photos. It was in the way he never minded when she adjusted his posture for pictures, even when other drivers rolled their eyes. It was in the way he had let her drag him to that hotel lounge in Singapore, letting her take a photo of him just because she wanted to.

She inhaled sharply. “Oscar—”

“Look,” he said, cutting her off. “If you don’t feel the same, just tell me. I’ll drop it. But if you do…” He hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “Then I’d really like to take you out. For real.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart hammering.

This was insane.

This was completely unprofessional.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Her fingers flexed around her camera strap. “You still want an answer?” she finally asked.

Oscar tilted his head, hopeful. “Would be nice, yeah.”

He took a breath, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him. Then, with an awkward chuckle, he said, “So, uh… do you wanna be my Valentine? No pressure, though. I mean, lots of pressure, but like, in a cute way.”

Y/N exhaled, something warm spreading in her chest. A small smile. “Yes.”

Oscar’s breath hitched. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A grin broke across his face—bright, genuine. “Okay. Cool. That’s… good.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You just confessed on camera, and *now* you’re nervous?”

“Terrified, actually.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Come on, Piastri. Let’s get out of here.”

And just like that, everything between them finally clicked into place.

[sinofwriting]

It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Masterlist | Support Me! | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver’s room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be.

“What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words.

He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs.

The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.”

“What?”

“She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.”

“She’s never liked Red Bull.”

“You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.”

“No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue.

She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.”

He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.”

“Was there a reason you called, Nico?”

“What? I can’t check in on my sister?”

She rolls her eyes again, but grins.

“I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.”

“Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.”

“And you still want to do this?”

“Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.”

“And Mercedes?”

“I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.”

“Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.”

“Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them.

“I retired from the last race.”

“And that was the last race.”

He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?”

She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed.

She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You’re my lucky charm.”

She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.”

“I know.”

She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her.

She nods but doesn’t look at him.

“Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.”

“You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.”

He flushes at her words.

“I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.”

“Then I won’t.” He tells her.

She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.”

“Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je, Max.”

He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.”

He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes.

She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.”

He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it’s okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?”

She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before.

“Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.”

“Inside Max. Please, inside me.”

He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?”

“With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does.

She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It’s the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?”

She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.”

The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why.

“What did you hear?”

“Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.”

The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.”

He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.”

“Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.”

“Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco.

The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep.

He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine.

“When do you stop?”

He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?”

“When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?”

His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.”

She nods, “and as a kid?”

“December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.”

She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him.

“Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend’s reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.”

She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done.

“She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.”

She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.”

Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.”

She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.”

“Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.”

“Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022

They’re making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.”

She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.”

The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms.

“A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?”

“Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.”

She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.”

“Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loves it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver’s room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew.

“How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say.

“Good. So has Nico.”

He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

[artvscvntymullet]

I have a will idea?

Maybe she works for one of the other creators and Will talks about his Deliveroo/Uber eats bill which is outrageous as he gets takeaway 2 sometimes 3 times a day and she offers to help teach him how to cook and they develop a relationship from that

A TASTE OF SOMETHING NEW - WILLNE

thank you for the request, this one was so fun to write!!

content warnings : none

word count : 2200 words

You’d always known Will was a bit of a mess when it came to his eating habits. It was a running joke among his friends and fans—he was the guy who ordered takeaway like it was an Olympic sport. You’d see him posting on his socials about his latest Uber Eats or Deliveroo delivery, always boasting about how many times he’d “treated himself” to food. But recently, you’d noticed he’d been talking about his takeaway habit a little more than usual.

One evening, while scrolling through your social media feed, you came across a video of Will chatting about how much he spent on food every month. He looked both frustrated and amused as he ran the numbers aloud.

"So, my takeaway bill this month is extortionate," Will said, holding up his phone as if trying to show the camera his bank statement. "Two or three times a day, every day. That’s literally all I’m eating. I can’t cook, so I just keep ordering. I think I could’ve bought a small car with how much I’ve spent."

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was funny—and kind of sad at the same time. Will wasn’t exactly poor, but the guy had absolutely no clue how to feed himself. You had seen him cook in the past, and while he wasn’t hopeless, it was clear that cooking wasn’t his priority. But that’s where you came in. You were known for your skills in the kitchen—friends always begged you to make them meals or show them your recipes. Maybe this was your chance to help Will out.

You didn’t waste any time. You sent him a message: Hey Will, I saw your latest video about your takeaway addiction. I get it—takeaway is great, but your bank account’s not gonna be happy if you keep this up. If you want, I can teach you how to cook. It’s not that hard, and trust me, you’ll save a ton of money. Plus, I’m really good in the kitchen.

It didn’t take long for him to respond, and the message was exactly what you expected: skeptical, but open: Wait, you think you can teach me how to cook? I can barely make toast, but alright, I’m intrigued. What do you have in mind?

You grinned to yourself. The guy was definitely down for the challenge, even if he didn’t believe you could change his ways. You quickly replied: How about we start simple? I’ll show you how to make a decent dinner without burning your kitchen down. I promise you, I won’t let you screw it up. What about this weekend?

His reply came through almost instantly: Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. If I end up with a burnt kitchen, I’m blaming you though.

Saturday arrived, and you were feeling oddly excited about it. You packed up a few groceries, grabbed a few ingredients, and headed to Will’s flat.

When you arrived, he was already waiting for you by the door, grinning sheepishly. "I know I agreed to this, but I still don’t get how you think you can teach me to cook," he said, laughing as you walked inside. "I can’t even microwave food properly. Like, it’s a struggle."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "We’ll start slow. Don’t worry, I’ll be here to guide you." You dropped the bags onto the counter and began pulling out ingredients. "Today, we’re making a simple pasta dish. It’s easy, but it tastes way better than ordering in. Trust me."

The lesson started out slow. Will was completely clueless at first—he needed help with everything, from chopping the vegetables to stirring the sauce. But as you worked through the steps, you noticed something: Will wasn’t just following along because you were telling him what to do. He was genuinely interested. He asked questions, joked around, and seemed to enjoy learning how to actually make something from scratch. It was a bit adorable, to be honest.

"Okay, I’m not gonna lie," Will said, grinning at you from across the counter, "this actually smells good. Like, I’m impressed."

You smiled, pleased with how things were going. "See? It’s not so hard. You just need a little patience and some practice."

By the time dinner was ready, you were both sitting down to the pasta you’d made together. Will took a bite, looking impressed. "Okay, wow," he said, his eyes wide. "This is really good. You weren’t lying." He gave you a playful look. "So, what’s next? Am I ready for a Michelin star?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Not quite, but we’ll get there. You’ll be making full meals on your own in no time."

Over the next few weeks, you and Will continued your cooking lessons. You showed him how to make all kinds of things—from stir fry to homemade burgers. Every time, he was impressed by how good the food tasted, and how easy it could be to cook for himself. Slowly but surely, Will was starting to ditch the takeaways.

One evening, after a particularly fun cooking session, Will surprised you. You were both sitting on the couch, enjoying the meal you’d just made, when he turned to you, "I’ve gotta admit," he said, his voice a little more serious than usual, "I never thought I’d be into cooking. But… it’s been pretty fun, hanging out with you. And I’m actually kinda enjoying it. You’re pretty good at this."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "I’m glad you’re liking it. But, you know, you’ve got a talent for it too. Just needed the right teacher."

There was a slight pause before Will looked at you, a bit more earnest now. "Well, if I’m being honest… I kinda look forward to these cooking sessions more than just the food."

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to quiet down. His gaze softened, and he moved just a little closer, his voice a little lower. "I mean, I really enjoy spending time with you," he added, a bit shy, his eyes meeting yours. "I didn’t expect it, but I think you’re great. I guess… I’m really glad you reached out to help me."

The air between you both felt different now—charged with something new, something more. You shifted closer, your voice barely above a whisper as you responded.

"I’m glad too, Will. I didn’t expect this either… but I think I’m starting to look forward to it too. More than I thought I would."

For a second, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was comfortable, natural, like everything had led up to this moment. Will hesitated before leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours, soft and slow. "I think you’ve taught me more than just how to cook," he murmured against your lips, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’ve taught me how to enjoy the little things. Like spending time with someone who makes everything better."

You smiled against his lips, your hand finding its way to his chest. "Well, you’ve been a pretty good student. And I’m starting to think… maybe this could be something even better than cooking."

His eyes softened, a tender look that made your heart race, before he kissed you again, this time a little deeper, a little longer. In that moment, you realized that all the little lessons you’d taught him had led you both here—into something real, something that was growing into something much more than either of you expected.

A few months later, you and Will had become regulars in each other’s kitchens. You still taught him new things, but now it was more than just cooking—it was about building something real together. Every meal, every shared moment, and every smile was a reminder that sometimes, it takes a little help in the kitchen to cook up something much sweeter.

"Hey," Will said one night, as he leaned in to kiss you after a meal you both had just finished preparing, "this whole ‘cooking together’ thing? Best decision I ever made."

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around him. "Yeah, me too."

And for the first time in a long time, you realized that this wasn’t just about cooking anymore, it was something much more.

[4ln-stay8]

A stream full of surprises

✑ summary: you join Max for a stream that doesn’t go the way you expected to

✑ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

✑ autor’s note: so this is my first attempt on doing this so Im really sorry if it sucks

✑ warnings: some stuff might not be accurate but its a fanfic so just pretend

You sat nervously in front of the computer, joining Max Fewtrell's Twitch stream for the first time. You and Max had become close friends fast, thanks to your secret relationship with Lando Norris. Due to you being often alone for a few weeks in a row sometimes, you and Max often hung out when Lando was busy with Formula 1 commitments.

You were often busy studying to get your masters degree. You sometimes needed to stay behind on all the fun you could have by joining Lando and travelling with him but you needed to study so you could keep your scholarship.

“Hi guys! Welcome back to the stream! Today we have a guest who will be joining us, my good friend Y/N. Say hi to her chat!” said Max starting his stream.

The stream started surprisingly well. The chat didn’t payed much attention to you at first, even tho Max made sure that your presence is known. They were very busy trying to get Max to respond to their questions. It took them about 10 minutes to actually acknowledge your presence and then the hell got loose. The chat was flying with questions about who you were and why were you there. Speculations about the relationship between you and Max, people asking where Pietra was and why were you there instead of her were all you could read.

*Chatuser: who is that?

*Chatuser: where is P?

*Chatuser: is she your new gf?

*Chatuser: why is she here?

Max, being the lovely person he is tried very politely to respond to as many questions as he could.

“Guys, as I said, this is my friend Y/n and she will be joining us for today’s stream so be nice chat”

To your surprise, the stream went pretty smoothly from then on. As you chatted and laughed on the stream, the chat kept buzzing with speculations about you and Max being more than just friends. With each new viewer the subject of who you were and what was your business with Max kept repeating over and over again. You then started to blush at the comments, unsure of how to respond.

You weren’t used to being in the spotlight, one of the reasons why you and Lando were keeping things a secret. Unlike them, you weren’t trained to respond in front of cameras, how to respond to personal questions as politely as possible without actually answering them. You were totally unprepared and in that exact moment you hated yourself for letting Max convince you to join him.

You strongly disagreed to his proposal about the stream, not even Lando could convince you to join him but after Max repeatedly asking for you to join you changed your mind and agreed to do it.

Don’t get me wrong, there was nothing you wanted more than to stream with your boyfriend. Seeing him become a chaotic storm, watching his eyes light up whenever he would get a sub or have fun. There was nothing more you wanted that to hear his loud laughs and frustrated screams whenever he was gaming. You wanted to be a part of it but you couldn’t.

You were a very shy and awkward person around strangers and knowing there were thousands of people watching you didn’t sound pleasing to you, but you wanted to change that. You wanted to become more comfortable in front of the camera so you could be all the way in, in your relationship. You wanted to be more comfortable with the fans before you would announce your relationship with Lando and join him around the world. You wanted to make sure they liked you.

Meanwhile, Lando was on his way home from the airport, having just returned from the last race weekend of the season. He got bored on the uber drive and he decided to tune into Max's stream to see what was he getting up to. He was surprised to see his girlfriend on the screen. He often tried to convince you to join him on the streams but you just didn’t agree with him. He didn’t want to push you to do it knowing how shy you can get but what he didn’t understand was why did you accepted Max’s offer instead of his. He just stood there, surprised and confused, watching in silence as the chat filled with ship names and teasing messages about you and Max.

His jealousy flared, and he couldn't help himself. When he finally arrived home, he payed the driver, quickly took his bags and he burst into the house. He left all his things by the door and ran to the room you were in. He opened the door loudly, surprising both you and Max, causing you to jump in your seat.

Lando didn't waste a moment. He quickly approached you without saying a word. When he got in front of you, he cupped your face and he leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on your lips right in front of the camera. The chat went wild, emojis and exclamation marks flooding the screen. Everyone was stunned not knowing what the hell was going on.

*Chatuser: what just happened?

*Chatuser: did lando just kissed y/n?

*Chatuser: 😱

You were petrified at first, your eyes wide as you tried to process what was happening, but then you slowly melted into the kiss, your hand finding its way to the back of Lando's neck. You missed the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands cupped your face, his thumb slowly brushing your cheek. You were addicted to his kiss. You were addicted to him. It was a brief moment, but it felt like an eternity in front of thousands of viewers. Time just stopped whenever he was near you.

When you finally pulled apart, Lando realized what he had just done. He looked at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks as he was trying to think his next move. He chuckled nervously and helped you to your feet, settling you on his lap as he took your place in front of the camera.

"Hey, everyone," Lando began, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I guess I should explain what just happened." He glanced at you, who was still blushing furiously. You got all shy and he knew it.

“So as you most likely saw, I kissed Y/n. Well that would be scandalous in different circumstances but the truth is that Y/N and I have been dating for the past year. Well, I hope we still are after that stunt I pulled” he said chuckling and he looked at you for reassurance.

“We decided not to make it public due to the fact that Y/N gets a bit shy around strangers and I wanted to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible in this relationship.” He said giving you a small smile

The chat went crazy about all that was happening. Not only did they witness a very private and intimate moment between the two of you, but they also got to see the way Lando looked at you while he was trying to explain the situation.

*Chatuser: the way he looks at her trying to make sure she’s comfortable 😫

*Chatuser: can they be any cuter?

*Chatuser: God it’s me again…

Max was sitting quietly next to you, only making his presence known with small chuckles as he read the chat. He patiently waited for you to finish your conversation before he could actually start teasing his dear friend.

You stayed quiet as well, giving small smiles to the camera trying not to seem rude. You read the comments as well, smiling even wider as you saw how nice and accepting the fans were to you so you decided to make your presence known by teasing your boyfriend.

You leaned in and whispered to Lando, "You couldn't handle the chat teasing us, could you?"

Lando laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I guess not," he admitted. “ You know I don’t like sharing whats mine” he said playfully.

You looked at him amused and decided to keep teasing him. “I mean, Max is quite charming today I’m not gonna lie” you made a small pause looking at the way his brows frowned “…but you know I only got my eyes on you, right?

You smiled looking at him, your heart swelling with love. You just adore him in ways you didn’t even know that was possible until you met him.

He looked at you with love in his eyes, trying to memorise the way you look, and answered with a simple “I know my love! I only got my eyes on you as well” he said lovingly.

The chat continued to explode with comments, but now it was filled with hearts and messages of support for the couple. Max, who had been silently watching the whole exchange, grinned and gave them a thumbs-up.

“You know guys, if I knew I had to watch you being grossly cute again I wouldn’t have let Y/n join me” said Max earning a light slap on the shoulder from you.

“Oh shut it Max… It’s not like you don’t do the same” you said rolling your eyes giggling at how chill your friend was.

“So what are we gonna do know?” Asked Max trying to change the subject while it was still in a respectful state.

“How about you guys go play something while I’ll go find P?” You said slowly standing up from Lando’s lap ignoring his protests.

“Fine we will play something. You can go and gossip with P now but first give me a kiss” said Lando trying to look as cool as possible.

You leaned in and pecked his lips one more time before slowly walking towards the door. Lando groaned as he didn’t got the kiss he was hoping for, making you giggle.

The boys went back to the stream playing games and causing chaos as they usually do while ypu and P enjoyed some quality talks while drinking some tea.

You never would’ve thought that this would be the way the world would find out about your relationship and you definitely didn’t expect the fans to be so nice about it. At the end of the day you were really grateful that Lando did what he did knowing that you now could stop hiding your love.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

[quintessenceofdust88]

Nonna Rosa fixes it

[Now on AO3!] Okayyy, it's officially not the weekend anymore, but only for like five minutes, so technically I'm on time! This got totally away from me, and I had to actually force myself to end it where I did. Nonna Rosa took the narrative from my hands and said 'I'll take it from here', and good for her. Not to be dramatic but I love her. Anyway, if any Italian-speaking people read this: I AM SO SORRY. This is all Collins dictionary or Google Translate, I don't speak a word of Italian and I'll be very glad to correct any mistakes you might notice ♥ I hope you guys enjoy it! if you want to know more about Nonna Rosa, send me an ask, I have looots of headcanons for her (and Tommy's childhood). Here you go:

A week after breaking up with Evan, Tommy is still feeling like shit. He can barely sleep, anything he tries to eat tastes like sawdust, and he feels like he’s living on autopilot. He goes to work, he comes back home, he tries to eat, he tries to sleep, rinse and repeat. Nothing else matters, there’s nothing else he feels like doing. He doesn’t answer Howie’s texts asking how he’s doing (he answered the first one, telling Howie not to worry about him, but can’t do more than that); he completely ignores Eddie’s invitation for Muay Thai and basketball, and he comes up with an excuse as to why he can’t make karaoke bar that Thursday. And yet, there’s one thing he can’t put off, as much as he wishes to: talking to his Nonna. 

Tommy calls his grandmother at least once a week; she still lives in Indiana, in the same house he spent most of his childhood in, and he knows his uncle Bart visits often. But he likes to hear from her himself. Visiting her was a rare occasion, and the last time he was able to was about four months ago. The minute he had stepped in, Nonna had asked him if he was ‘innamorato’, because he was looking so much happier than usual.

And he knows she’ll perceive his sadness just as quick, if not quicker. The woman has always been able to read him like an open book. She’s probably the only person alive who can; he’s always made sure to keep his layers hidden from everyone else, even from… 

Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? 

Fact is, that if he misses his call with Nonna, it’ll be even worse. She’ll know something’s up, and he doesn’t put past her to fly across the country to check on him (he’s always been the favorite grandson and everyone knows it). So it’s best to get it over with. With a heavy sigh, he sits down on his couch (and tries not to think about how empty it feels when it’s just him in there) and rings her up, bracing himself.

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words. 

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs. 

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old, before leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy, and that she would always love him. 

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern. 

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault” He blurts out before he can stop himself, and the look on his grandmother’s face tells Tommy she’d be placing a sizable plate of cake and a cup of strong coffee in front of him if she could.

“You have a habit of saying things are your fault even when they aren't, so I'm afraid I'll need the entire story, my boy” She says gently, and Tommy watches as she sits down by her kitchen table (the same kitchen table where he did most of his school homework, the same kitchen table from where he always used to steal a biscotti while they were still warm), supporting her face in her hand and turning those sharp blue eyes at the phone screen. Tommy swears he can feel them pierce through his very soul. “What happened? Is it your Evanino?”

The question sends a knife right through Tommy's chest as he imagines what could have been. Gosh, Nonna would have loved Evan (who doesn't love Evan, you idiot?, he tells himself), and he knows deep in his heart Evan would have loved her as well. Every time Tommy would talk about her (which he did fairly often; he was a grandma's boy and had no shame about it), Evan would get a wistful expression on his face and tell Tommy that she sounded awesome.

He had been planning on taking Evan with him next time he managed to visit her, not wanting to introduce them through the phone. Now it's for the best he didn't; at least Nonna won't have to miss him like Tommy does.

“He… he's not mine anymore, Nonna,” He admits, his voice thick with emotion. “We broke up”

“What?! Ma comme?! You were so happy last time we talked!” She asked, and of course Tommy was happy; it was the day before their six month anniversary, and he had been so full of excitement. “Was he not happy? Is that why you're blaming yourself, Tomasino?”

A smile as bright as sunshine crosses Tommy's mind. A smile that only started to fade once Tommy told him he knew how it ended. A smile that had become his personal beacon of light in the past six months. A smile he misses like a lost limb.

“He… he was happy” He says, because that much he knows to be true; Evan was happy with him, Tommy made sure of that. His grandmother frowns at that, and Tommy doesn't blame her; the story seems convoluted, feels convoluted, even to himself, and he lived it.

“Thomas, you have to help your old grandmother, because I cannot understand what is the problem. If you were happy and he was happy, then why are you not together anymore?”

“Because he asked me to move in with him” Tommy says, and that doesn't seem to clear the situation for her. If anything, her frown deepens, and she reaches for a piece of bread, fiddling with it; Nonna could never keep her hands still, especially when she was nervous, and Tommy had inherited that from her. 

“Does that mean something different when it’s two men?” She asks, completely genuine, and that earns a surprised chuckle from Tommy. 

“No, Nonna” Tommy says, and all of a sudden the urge to laugh is gone again; it never lasts long, not after Evan. “It… It means the same”

“Very well, and you said no? That’s why he ended things?” She asks, and Tommy sighs brokenly, the memories of the night no less painful than when it happened.

“No. I… I broke up with him, Nonna. He asked me to move in with him, and I didn’t just say no. I… I broke up with him," Tommy admits with a heavy heart. 

“Tesoro, you do realize you are not making any sense? You and your boy were happy; he asked you to move in with him, and instead you broke up with him. Then you show up looking like your heart was broken and tell me it is your fault. What am I missing, bambino?”

“I have a house, Nonna!” He snaps, finally being able to voice the things that have been stewing in his heart and mind since that night. “I have a house, and he lives in a rented loft, and it makes no sense for me to move in with him!”

Nonna doesn’t answer right away. She chews thoughtfully on her bread, letting a small silence fall between the pair of them before she eventually sighs and answers him.

“Benne, you have a point, it wouldn’t make sense. But that isn’t the whole problem, is it, Tommasino?” Nonna adds shrewdly. “You could have talked it out, explained that to him. So what made you walk out of the best thing that happened to you in years?”

Tommy can always trust Nonna to lay things down exactly as they are, no matter how painful it sounds. She’s right, he did walk out of the best thing that happened to him in years, maybe ever, and it’s getting harder and harder to justify that decision to himself. 

“N-Nonna, I was… I was falling so in love with him” He tells her, and feels tears starting to prickle the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve known that since last time you were here” Nonna says impatiently. “That’s not a reason to leave, Thomas; that’s a reason to stay”

“Only if he loved me back” He says automatically, and Nonna crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

“And who says he doesn’t? Did you ask him?” She asks sharply, and Tommy sighs. This conversation is taking a completely different route than what he expected. 

“I didn’t have to, Nonna. I… I just know it, okay? I was his first relationship with a man. I cannot be the last, that’s not how it works. And I… I thought I was okay with it, that I could enjoy it while it lasted, but… But I didn’t expect to love him this much” He admits, as much to himself as to her. It’s all his fault, really, for falling so deeply, flying too close to the Sun. “I-it’s safer to break my own heart now than to let him do it when I’m way too deep to recover. N-not that I’m recovering all too well, but… could be worse” He finishes, already wiping the few tears that inconveniently decided to rush down his cheeks. 

If Tommy expects his grandmother to nod sympathetically at that and coo at him (he kinda does; she has a habit of doing that when he cries), he has another thing coming. Nonna scoffs loudly, hitting the table with her hand, strong from decades of kneading bread. The noise is enough to startle Tommy out of tears.

“Thomas Domenico Kinard, I didn’t know me and your dear Mamma, may God have her soul, had raised an estupido vigliacco!” She exclaims, her hand flailing loudly to emphasize her words. 

Tommy will be the first to admit his Italian is rusty, but he’s pretty sure she just called him a stupid coward. And. Ouch.

“Nonna!” He exclaims back, but she isn’t dissuaded. She tuts him with a sharp ‘Silenzio!’ and a raised finger, and Tommy shuts up right away. He knows that when Nonna starts, the best he can do is take the scolding, so he leans back on his couch, trying his best not to look like a chided boy who got caught stealing fruit from the neighbor’s orchard.

“You are my grandson, and I love you more than anything in this world. You are a good man with a wonderful heart, but you have one big problem, Tommaso. You always assume you know people’s feelings better than they do, and then you make your own decisions based on that without actually asking anyone. Remember when you decided I should move to California because you thought I was lonely here?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, and Tommy nods sheepishly. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“That if and when you wanted to move to California, you would let me know, but you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions” He mumbles back, the epic scolding from five years ago still fresh on his mind. 

“Esattamente. Now, I think your Evanino deserves the same courtesy. He is not a silly child, Thomas. If he wants you to be his last, if he loves you, who do you think you are to decide that he doesn’t?”

“But he never said he did,” Tommy replies stubbornly. “He… He never even told me he loved me, he just asked me to move in with him. It’s like… It’s like he wanted to prove a point, Nonna. That he could be… committed, or queer, or whatever, I don’t know. But he never said he loved me”

“Did you say it to him?” Nonna asks, and Tommy stares at her with his mouth agape. Damn this woman and her ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions. 

“N-no” He admits. “I… I was too afraid of him not saying it back”

“Hmmm” Nonna hums thoughtfully. “That’s your other problem, bambino mio. You think you don’t deserve to be loved. I blame that man for that” Nonna says with a scoff, and they both know exactly who she’s talking about; there’s no lost love between Rosa Lucciola and her ex-son-in-law, Brian Kinard, and the way he treated Tommy and his mother before she passed is the sole reason for it. 

“Well, that’s neither here nor there, Nonna” He says with a shrug, always uncomfortable when his father becomes even a small topic of conversation, but she tuts disapprovingly.

“Ah, isn’t it? Has it never occurred to you that maybe your Evanino could have the same problem? That he was as afraid as you to show his heart and have it broken?”

Tommy desperately wants to say that he thought about it, that it occurred to him; but it hasn’t. Evan is such a sunshine of a man, always so prone to smiles and loving gestures towards anyone he cares about, that Tommy never thought there could be insecurities there. Now it makes him feel selfish and stupid (or estupido as Nonna had so accurately called him). 

“Nonna…” Tommy says, his mind catching up to everything she said and a horrifying realization dawns on him. “What if he did love me back? Oh my God, did I fuck this up?!” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“Language! Do not take the Signore’s name and swear in the same sentence!” She chides him, and Tommy mutters ‘sorry’, but her look is impossibly fond. “But, well. Maybe you did; maybe you didn’t. Are you going to sit around and mope or try to find out?” Nonna challenges him. 

“W-what if he never loved me, Nonna? Or what if he did, but me walking out made him stop?” Tommy asks, not knowing which possibility scares him the most.

“What if he still does, Thomas?” Nonna counteracts. “What if he loves you and is too afraid to reach out because you already rejected him once, hm? Someone has to be brave, and he already was when he asked you to move in, bambino. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but his heart was in the right place; it was in your future together”

Tommy realizes Nonna is right. He can’t expect Evan to reach out (he realizes he was at some level, and he would have rushed to it; one call from Evan and Tommy would be right back to his life, ready to reheal his own heart when things inevitably went wrong, just for another glimpse of Evan Buckley’s personal sunshine); it’s his turn to fight for them. It’s his turn to be brave. 

“Ah, you finally realized it, hm?” Nonna says; something must be showing on his face, because there’s a satisfied smile on her face. “Fight for that boy, Thomas. Fight for your happiness, tesoro. Prove to your Nonna you are not estupido”

“Nonna, you are most definitely the best person on the planet, and I promise you didn’t raise a estupido. I’ll do right by Evan. By… By me. By both of us” Tommy promises to her, promises to himself. He blows a kiss to the screen of his cellphone, desperately wishing he could kiss her cheek in person. “Ti amo, Nonnina” (I love you, granny) 

“Ti amo, nipotini del mio cuore” (I love you, grandson of my heart) She tells him back, and a mischievous smirk appears on her face. “You better bring that boy here to try my rondelli before the year is over, you hear?”

“Dio, I hope so, Nonna” He tells her, and they say their goodbyes before hanging up. Tommy already misses her.

He holds his cellphone close to his heart, wondering if he should text Evan, but decides against it. This is too big for a text, too big for a call. He’ll go over in the morning, probably with a bouquet of flowers or whatever other extravagant gift he can come up with, ready to grovel and explain himself and beg for a second chance, even if it’s only to hear a ‘no’. Even if it’s only to let Evan yell at him and get the closure he deserves. Even if it’s only to get his already shattered heart broken into even more pieces. Tommy has to be brave.

After all, nonna and mamma didn’t raise a coward. 

(Evan doesn’t say no. And when Tommy explains, after several rounds of make-up sex, what made him change his mind, he promises to send Nonna a present. The present ends up being him and Tommy, because they go to Indiana for Christmas, and Evan falls in love with Nonna and her rondelli. Just like Tommy knew he would)

--

Tag list (let me know if I missed anyone! also if you want to be removed or only tagged in Little Blobs' Verse):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie

(Although here's a lil spoiler - Nonna Rosa will probably show up in Little Blobs' verse cause I'm not ready to let go of her and she'd whack me in the head with a spoon if I didn't let her meet her great-grandchildren)

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do oneshot for Checo with wife pregnant!reader? She accompanied him to the race and he had a crash during Monaco GP 2023 and she's afraid that he will never get to see their child and everyone in the garage tried to calm her down. But he's fine. And she just grateful that he's still alive. I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Tag me later!! Thanks!!

Monaco: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly - Sergio Perez x PregnantWife! Reader

Plot: Sergio Perez gets into a nasty crash in Monaco, where his wife attends to support despite being uncomfortably pregnant. However, with the rainy weather conditions Monaco GP is looking more dangerous than ever!

A/N: this is a little shorter as I struggle to right for Sergio more than others!

This year, you hadn’t really been to many races as you’d got pregnant during the winter break. You’d spent Christmas avoiding people asking why you weren’t drinking before letting everyone know after the first doctors appointment you had.

By the time the Monaco Grand Prix rolled around you were coming up to around 7months of your pregnancy and boy could you tell.

However, because of what Monaco was Sergio had asked you to come considering that’s where you both resided now that he was in Red Bull.

You agreed to come as long as the days weren’t too strenuous on you, and that you always had a seat available as it was hard carrying another human inside of you.

When you arrived at the garage you’d never had so many compliments from well pretty much everyone. Everyone in Alpine had congratulated you, as it was Sergios old team and there were people there that still held a lot of love for the both of you.

When you came to Red Bull Max and Kelly couldn’t help but praise your looks and how you were glowing. And it went on like that for most of the day, people complimented how you looked and it made you feel better about any insecurities you held.

The only thing making you anxious now was the race itself.

You of course loved to support Sergio in what he did but you couldn’t deny that your husband driving round tricky tracks at over 200mph scared the living daylights out of you.

And Monaco, we’ll it was one of the worst. It’s the tightest street circuit ever, and you have to be very precise when it comes to overtaking and gaining places.

Through the whole weekend it had stayed relatively nice, when it came to the weather and the vibes. Everyone was cheerful and excited about the race at one of the most iconic tracks in motorsport. After some great times tested in all the free practices and getting into Q3 in Qually, Sergio was in P8 having locked up on his flying lap.

You were currently in the garage sat watching the race with the mechanics next to you.

“It’s going to be hard for them to get ahead of both the Ferraris and the McLaren” you say to the mechanic next to you. Seeing Charles in Pole, Lando in P2 and and Carlos in P3, Max in P4 and Sergio behind 2 Mercedes, and an Aston Martin.

You watch the lights turn off once all five had lit up, and listen to Cofty commentating. You watch as Charles manages to keep the lead, Lando falling in nicely behind him while Carlos managed to defend from Max quiet nicely.

Sergio had an amazing start, meaning that he moved up past George in the Mercedes, sitting comfortably in P7. Over the radio all the drivers were let known it was going to start raining within the next 3 laps, most of the drivers pitted.

Max pit for Red Bull first while Sergio stayed out moving up to P2 with Lewis now in the lead. Ferrari having made a double Pit stop worried about their drivers with the oncoming rain.

The rain started to come down heavily, you watched on from your husbands car camera seeing how low the visibility was.

You saw his mechanics preparing to have him come in and change to intermediates. You watch on seeing him struggling for grip until he slides forward having something jolt him from behind.

His car, flips as the Aston that bumped his rear also lost grip forcing itself around his car. They are both sent into the barriers both cars getting a massive shunt.

There’s debris everywhere and his car is no-longer race worthy.

Your mind goes haywire and your hand reaches up to your mouth to cover it as it opens in shock. Tears built in your eyes as you watch no movement from both cars.

“Oh my god!” You breathe, one hand still covering your mouth the other resting on your stomach.

What if this was it? You questioned to yourself.

Would your husband never be able to meet his child? You wondered watching as the medic car is released and sent to go help Sergio and Lance.

Some of the social media girls in the garage come up to you, holding a hand out to you to grip in shock. One of them is whispering that he’ll be okay but you are only listening to Crofty and his soft commentating about the incident.

Mechanics soon come up to you realising what has happened trying to block your view and make you take a seat as they can see you are getting breathless.

Red Bull was like one big family, they’d know you since before Sergio had joined as you were good childhood friends with Kelly, so they all felt a high level of protectiveness over you.

You were the sweetest person in the Red Bull family, always bringing them health boxes, full of delicious yet healthy snacks, and then on Sundays coming by with post race goodies that they could class as part of their cheat day, and you were always willing to listen to each and every one of them.

“No no no” you cry more tears spilling as neither driver continues to communicate or make movements.

Some more of the mechanics rushed over to you, pulling you away from the cameras and the screen. Kelly follows holding your hand in a comforting manor. They sit you down in Sergio’s drivers room. The TV in there is on and playing the crash and Kelly goes to turn it off but you stop her before you can.

“No I have to know!” You say watching on as you see the red flag given, all the drivers coming into the pits.

Lance manages to pull himself out and is able to communicate back to the Aston Martin team who all cheer as he is presumed okay, where he pulled himself out and is walking.

He walks straight over to Sergio, there’s some kind of communication which makes you sigh in relief that your husband is able to talk. Nods of heads show that they’ve agreed on something and Lance helps as Sergio pulls himself up on out the car.

You sigh in relief seeing that he was able to get himself out the bashed up car wreck. He wobbled around before collapsing to the ground which only had your heart rate spiking even more.

Lance called the medics over, pointing for Sergio to be helped into the van first. A stretcher was brought out from the back. More tears falls from your eyes, however your husband knew what you’d be looking like right now.

And frankly he’d never liked seeing you cry.

So he pulled himself up, and walked towards the medical van despite what the Marshalls were telling him.

He explained to them he wanted to show his wife and team he was doing okay. Lance clambers in the back after him and they are driven round the last bit of the track to where he would be taken to medical tent for evaluation.

A knock on your door sounds and in walks Christian Horner himself. You smile lightly at him but the tears only come out a little more as he looks between you and the TV.

“He’s going to be okay Y/N” he promises and you nod.

The wait for him to come back and be cleared by the medics was painful, you waited for so long it felt like hours but in reality it was only 30 minutes. There was no damage in the crash, only a mild concussion that would be okay within a few days of rest.

“Hello mi Carina” he smiled sheepishly at you.

“You had me so worried!” You cry as you pull him into a hug, he hugs you kissing all over your face before bending down to the height of your round belly.

“Im so sorry, to the both of you! I can’t imagine the stress I just put you both through!” He offers kissing your clothed stomach and rubbing it lovingly.

“I was so so scared that you’d never get to…” you stutter and choke on your words finding it hard to admit what was so worrying to you, what you’d feared for a long time now.

“Id never leave you both” he smiles standing back up to his full height and pulling you into a chaste kiss that you melt into.

“I love you so much” you sigh sinking into his hold strong hold .

“I love you too, I’ll never put you through what I did today again!” He promises holding into you tightly.

He wouldn’t admit it, but today really was a change of perspective of racing for him.

He’d never been that apprehensive getting into a car and driving it as quickly as he did, but he knew he would have a new found patience and carefulness driving the car after todays events as he too had been fearful he wouldn’t make it back to his two best girls.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @ironmaiden1313

[allastoredeer]

Hello I had this dream last night and I need to share it with you!!!

We know the whole crew is invited to the Cannibal Cookout for the weekend.

So I imagine Al is gonna let cameras take pictures of him and Lucifer, that way the headline of his relationship with the king of hell will reach the seven pentagram faster(it was showed that he can take pictures when he wants to, since vox kept one). But that also mean he is gonna be exposed for the first time in probably forever. Like he is known for his terrifying radio podcast, which means that not many ppl know about his true form, especially new born sinners. So I can only imagine the surprise of those people to see the radio demon , the scariest overlord of them all, being a cute deer with a a fluffy tail and all the package that comes with it. Also Alastor mentioned to Lucy to ‘Wear your Sunday best.”, which might imply that he is gonna wear something nice as well…

It would be hilarious if Half of hell will start simping for Alastor and downright ignoring Lucifer.

I can imagine the internet exploding with Alastor pictures and people going like 'aww his ears are moving’ or something, sinners go as far as make fan club about him, meanwhile a certain picture box is having a mental breakdown…

~Valentino: “u know u can just say it that u want him”

~Vox: “Alright alright fuck yea I do and so Does half of hell. God damn it”

Meanwhile Angel reading through the chaos Alastor just unleashed

“oh he is so stealing my job already”

Lmao

OFC In all of this Al is completely oblivious about the situation he caused, so the crew tries to keep him out the flow, to not freak him out, which it’s not hard at all, since the dude doesn’t have a phone, but he does get a bit suspicious when Lucifer makes him wear something to cover his upper body, almost as far as making him wear an hat and glasses lol(I don’t see Lucifer as being who enjoys losing himself on new trends and gossip on the internet, so Angel probably showed him a innocent picture of them, but Lucy made the bad choice to go read through the comments. Nonetheless to say he was scarred for life, and decided to take it upon himself to protect Alastor’s privacy)

Also Alastor can probably sense when someone takes pictures of him, twitching his eyes and tail but otherwise leaves it be for the sake of maintaining the charade.

This was it ehehe, I kinda felt bad I woke up from that dream, I honestly wanted to know how it ended.

Either way I can’t wait to see how u are planning to go with it. Cause I just know u are gonna make me love every second of it😆👌

thank you for listening

Ps I wrote this at 5 in the morning a week ago, and I am not sure if I already sent it to u or my mind is playing tricks to me…so I am sorry if u already got the message.

Heheheheh I love this! You have the BEST dreams. I'm so in love with most of Hell not knowing Alastor, or not really remembering what he looked like, since he's been gone (and Hell is expanding by the thousands every day, so of course there would be people who don't know him).

And so they see him for the first time and it's such a stark difference to what they were expecting XD He's developing a fan-base and Lucifer has to scare them all of (otherwise Alastor WILL murder. He will).

And no worries! I did get the ask from earlier! Sometimes, if it takes me a long time to get to an ask, that's because I want to draw some doodles for it like the pics above ^.^

[madomkasak]

I feel very fond today so here's a lil something vignetty from reckless thoughts part 3. It doesn't even feature the baby girl cow, where is she???? (Meeting the cats)

Maxiel. Post maxiel retirement. Melbourne 25. Soft, very soft. c.400 words

~~~~~~

Thinks of his own scabbed knees, the pale spider webbed scaring that Daniel thumbs sometimes, when Max sits across from him on their ugly lawn chairs. It scars, but heals. Neither of them will come back to this world fully. Max doesn't mind it, and thinks that Daniel will not either — not after this weekend.

No one noticed the rings. They got more important things to focus on, like Lewis in red. Like Daniel in Melbourne. Everyone wants to talk to Daniel, in Melbourne. They don't even look at Max, who isn't even wearing jeans today.

The rookie in the VCARB seat doesn't get the same attention. The crowd wasn't expecting Daniel. No one stands a chance in Albert Park. Oy oy oy. Max is deafened by the cheers, louder than Rocky. Just for Daniel. Of course, for Daniel.

Max cups his hands around his mouth as Daniel shouts at him too. Daniel noises Max hears shouted at birds most mornings. He makes a heart shape with his hands just like his lips, pinky finger trying its best for Max. Daniel is so silly. Max is so in love.

Daniel says hi to everyone back. Max doesn't even glance at the RedBull line up. He glares a bit at the pitwall. Lets Martjin turn him away with a laugh. Max misses GP in his ear a little bit, but he hugs the man fiercely enough to lessen the longing. At least no one is getting GP in their radio either anymore, he is Max's only now, just like Daniel. Max doesn't share well still.

GP knows of course, has known since Singapore and Max awkwardly standing at the breakfast buffet, hickey just under his collar like a beacon, and Max wonders how Daniel misses it with the way they roughhouse each other. GP doesn't even let Daniel win. Neither care for the cameras. Max is so in love.

Max might make him his best man. Pretends it wasn't decided years ago. Will accept the fake surprise on GP's face when he asks, later.

[bluemirrorangel]

fem outsiders hcs

So i already did this for DPS but I wanted to do an outsider's version.

Darry:

Name: Shayanne ‘Annie’ Darrel Curtis, Named after her mum.

Pins her hair back to look more ‘professional.’ 

Works as a secretary for a roofers firm.

Was really popular in high school, she was voted cheer captain in her senior year but her parents died so she had to drop out.

Lost all her friends after dropping out to raise her sisters.

Has a second job as a babysitter on the weekends.

Bails the others out of jail so much that the police call her on impulse.

Used to go ‘skiing’ with her friends, she never actually skied herself but sometimes she misses the snow.

the  Curtis’s don’t have an open door policy anymore but a specific knock you use when you need a place to stay.

Keeps loose change in a pot in her room for emergencies.

Used to have a crush on Elvis Pressley in highschool.

She still has his posters on her wall.

Used to share a room with Soda but moved into her parent's room after they died.

The strongest in the gang and the most ‘physically’ intimidating.

Soda:

Name: Soda Curtis

She wears her hair in a beehive-type ponytail with flipped ends.

Still works at the DX but more at the cash register because she’s better with People and  Stevie is better with cars.

Had a boyfriend called Andy

Instead of Sandy cheating, getting pregnant and running away, Soda has a pregnancy scare that makes Andy run away.

After Windrixville  she starts spending time with a Soc boy ‘Sheridan.’

Still known around town for her looks.

Wanted to be a cowgirl when she was a kid.

Wants to start taking night classes in her twenties to get her high school diploma.

Doesn’t go to Vietnam.

Starts working night shifts as a waitress at a 24-hour diner in her late teens-early twenties.

Ponyboy:

Name: Ponygirl ‘Pony’ Curtis

Only greaser on the girls' track team.

Has her hair in a Ponytail. Annie used to plait it for her but she’s too rough.

Wants to be a writer.

Saving up for a camera.

After her hair was bleached and cut, up in Windrixville she got mistaken for a boy.

The shortest girl in her class.

Wears her dad's old shirts.

Needs glasses.

Scared of fire and loud noises after Windrixville.

Doesn’t consider herself popular but she is well-known.

Gets freckles in the summer.

Always has a lighter.

Got closer to Curly after Windrixville.

Stevie taught her how to drive.

Steve:

Name: Stevie Randle

Shoulder-length brown hair she spends a ridiculous amount of time curling it.

The best engineer at the DX but constantly underestimated.

Banned from dealing with customers due to her lack of filter.

Fiercely overprotective of Soda when it comes to guys specifically Socs.

Considers Pony a little sister.

Has a boyfriend ‘Evan’

Short temper.

Only stayed in school to look out for Pony.

Has always looked up to Annie as a female role model because Annie helped teach her after her mum left.

Insecure about her height.

Loves drag races.

Hates the Beatles.

Can actually sing quite well.

Twobit:

Name: Kathy ‘Twobit’ Mathews

Has a younger brother called Keith.

Short curly red hair.

Had a thing with a boy soc ‘Marshal’

Still drinks too much.

Annie’s childhood friend

Dips french fries into milkshakes.

Loves butter popcorn.

Has an issue taking things seriously.

Can walk on her hands.

Can’t sit still.

Actually enjoys movies but can’t watch them quietly.

Johnny:

Name: Jane ‘Janey’ Cade

Wears her hair down but greases the front.

The quietest member of the gang.

Surprisingly sarcastic.

Almost as fast as Pony.

Wears hand-me-downs and a big denim Jacket Dallas gave her to try and curb any attention.

Can be shockingly violent when scared.

Secretly protective of Pony.

Great at picking locks.

Once fell asleep in the boot of Stevie’s car during a game of man hunt.

Dallas:

Name: Dallas Winston

Really messy long blonde hair, like canon Dallas she’s not a fan of grease so she just let’s it tangle.

Just as violent specifically towards older men.

Like Sylvia but worse.

Cares deeply for Pony and Janey.

Only smokes winstons.

Kicked out of school for violent behaviour. 

Can NOT hold a steady job for the life of her.

Hates kids.

Orphan.

The most intimidating one in the gang in general.

Regularly gets into fights with Tammy Shepard.

Tim:

Name: Tamara “Tammy” Shepard.

Wears her hair up.

Leader of the Shepard outlet.

Runs her gang like the U.S. Navy.

Started looking after her siblings around sixteen after their parents walked out on them.

Doesn’t do much crime herself out of fear of being taken from them permanently.

Like Annie but a delinquent.

Deeply threatening.

Lives in constant fear of dying too young.

Taught Curly and Angelo how to fight.

Curly:

Name: Shirley ‘Curly’ Shepard

Waist length curly hair 

Steals make up from anywhere.

Has a deeply flawed understanding of love

Uses her femininity and attractiveness to her advantage.

Like Angela but more rabid.

Her idea of romance is dining and dashing with Pony.

Only smokes Marlboro’s 

Steals Pony’s flannels.

Hates pepsi

Smarter than people give her credit for.

Leaves lipstick marks on EVERYTHING.

leave a ship or fandom suggestions for headcanons, fics or just questions in general and I'll do them if you want :)

[writingonleaves]

just two hours to get there, babe (i can make it back about an hour or so) - reckless driving au

universe: reckless driving au

warnings: not much! some minor spoilers of things that haven't Happened in the au yet, a devils cup win sometime before 2029 lmfao

title: "jersey giant" by tyler childers

word count: 1.8k

author's note: got emo about stamkos' goodbye to tampa bay on the players tribune (its always the players tribune) and whipped this up!

important context!! amelie wins an award from World Sports Photography (a real award) along with some prize money, and she decides to donate all the money to Sports Media For Everybody, a (made-up) organization that supports queer media professionals. Below is her op-ed for SMFE, which ends up circling around hockey media circles / hockey twitter. i like to see it as the first real Public thing she's ever posted / written. this is published about a month before jack and amelie get married in 2029, btw. enjoy and lmk what you think!!!

A Photo Worth More

by Amelie Fishel

Background: Amelie Fishel is a photographer mostly known for her work in sports. She has photographed in the NHL, NFL, PWHL, MLB, WNBA, the Olympic Games, the World Cup and more. Her photos have appeared in AP, ESPN, Sports Illustrated and The Athletic. Her photo of New Jersey Devils alternate captain Jack Hughes (also her fiance) during the Stanley Cup Final won a World Sports Photography award last week. A member of SMFE for over five years, Amelie has spoken in numerous classrooms and at panels and workshops to share her knowledge. Alongside Jack, she is an ambassador for You Can Play. 

When I took a bow at my last dance recital with Michigan Dance Company, I thought I was done with sports. 

Don’t get me wrong. Dance had — and still has — brought me so much. It taught me a lot of things about myself, and brought me friends I still talk to today. But after blinking at the stage lights onwe last time to loud cheers from our family, friends and fellow dancers, I knew I made the right decision to stop my decade plus intense training. I would end up dancing recreationally throughout college, but nothing close to what I did at MDC. 

During my first week at the University of Michigan, I was timidly walking around the overwhelming Festifall, which happens every year at the school. It’s basically a club fair to showcase everything you can do at Michigan. Whether by happenstance or something else, I locked eyes with Jenny DeAngelo, who is currently the social media coordinator for the Los Angeles Chargers. I still remember — she had the cutest bob, a camera around her neck and the friendliest smile.

“Are you interested in working for the Michigan Athletic Department?”

Looking back, vaguest question ever. They could’ve been asking for equipment staff or helpers for ticket sales. But I walked over to Jenny, and that was it. 

For my whole four years at Michigan, I photographed almost every sport. Football, swimming, soccer, gymnastics, field hockey, you name it. I gave up a lot of weekends and school nights when I could’ve been out partying (let’s be honest, knowing me, I wouldn’t have been anyways) to stand at the sidelines of a field or court. I always knew I wanted to do photography, but the sports part of it all caught me off guard. 

Photographing hockey was almost a different skill set. I never played and didn’t really know anyone who did. But hockey at Michigan is sacred. I felt it the first game I shadowed, with Yost Arena filled up to the brim. I remember panicking because the sport was so fast. How could I ever keep up?

But I’ve never backed down from a challenge. 

I started being placed on the hockey beat more and more to the point where the guys started knowing me by name. I found myself at Yost pretty often during the season. And with my love for photographing hockey came my love for the actual game of hockey. Michigan hockey, in a way, was where another very important branch of my root love for photography started. I will always be grateful to Kristy, Maggie, Lauren and all the players and staff I worked with there for the encouragement and setting the expectations astronomically high for how a photographer is part of the team’s DNA.

I’m so grateful that my first gig after graduation was with the NHL. Being trusted to photograph the Philadelphia Flyers, the New Jersey Devils, the New York Islanders and the New York Rangers as an inexperienced but eager 22 year old was such a pleasure. I learned a lot and I still look upon the early years of my career with so many good memories. 

Since then, I’ve been lucky to continue doing what I enjoy on stages I could’ve never imagined I would even have a seat at the table at. From the world stage with the Olympic Games and World Cups, to Stanley Cup Finals and Super Bowls, to junior and high school sports Every sport at every level has taught me something new, and I feel so grateful that holding a camera still feels fresh. 

I’m extremely honored to receive this award for a photo that personally means so much to me.

When I took that photo of Jack during Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final, I honestly don’t remember what I was thinking. I was a ball of nerves that entire game — that entire post-season, to be honest with you — and I was purely doing everything out of instinct. I was urged multiple times by many people to not do my job. Go be in the crowd and enjoy it as a fan, everyone told me. But I couldn’t. I would’ve rather been working with the safety net of the camera around my neck because that would calm down my nerves. So they let me do it, more for my sake than anything, I think. What I do remember is when the final horn sounded, because everything leading up to that point flashed through my mind like a movie. Like a supercut, as Lorde would say. 

An image of when Jack and I first met flashed through my mind all those years ago in Michigan (the state, not the school). An image of the first Devils game I shot flashed through my mind, where he, of course, scored. An image of me crying in a conference room in Madison Square Garden flashed through my mind, when I felt so burnt out and questioned if I wanted to even do this anymore. It wasn't the first time I felt that way, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. An image of Jack coming into my office and waiting for me to finish editing photos flashed through my mind, the quiet hum of The Rock as our soundtrack. 

I remember when family and loved ones were shuffling onto the ice and I saw Luke skating up to me, the cup in the back and the biggest smile on his face. All I could think of was him in the Michigan maize skating up to me all the years prior. It felt like the most full circle moment. 

Basically, it felt like a movie, where everything that led up to that point came crashing down on me and all I could feel was pure joy and pride.

To me, that’s it. Photographing people is about capturing the pureness of emotions. Joy, sadness, frustration, anguish, confusion. I hate to use a cliche, but it’s true. A snapshot of a moment in time can say so much. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what motivates me to keep trying when the last thing I want to do is click that damn shutter. 

Recently, I was asked last minute to shoot a Devils game. It had been over a year since I had done so, so I jumped at the chance. I didn’t realize until I walked into the familiar hallways that it was Hockey Is For Everyone Night. Chris Sccopetto, one of the equipment guys (more commonly known as Frosty) tossed me something when I walked in. I looked down and teared up. It was a roll of rainbow ribbon. 

When I covered the NHL on a consistent basis, I would tie a ribbon in my hair, the color matching whatever team I was working for that night. It was a little thing I did just for fun. During the Hockey Is For Everyone nights, I used to always put something rainbow in my hair. I was honored that Frosty remembered. 

At that Devils game, I was shooting pre-game warmups, and a young woman was against the glass. After she got a puck from Dougie Hamilton, I went up to her, showing her the picture and asking if she would want a copy. I don’t always do this, but the picture was too good and I felt like she’d appreciate it. Just as I was about to leave, she told me she liked the ribbon in my hair. We got to chatting, and I found out that she had just come out as bisexual to her family, and she had looked forward to being at the game tonight for a long time. I offered her the roll of rainbow ribbon and went on my way, but that interaction will stick with me for awhile. From one bisexual woman to another, we’ve found a common space in a sport we love.

In light of recent events, nights like Hockey Is For Everyone are more important than ever. I have been lucky that my sexuality hasn’t been an issue in any workplace I’ve been a part of, but I know that I am so lucky it hasn’t been. As a photographer, I feel the energy of the fans at every game I shoot. For all fans, staff and players to feel included and to feel like they belong in a world that they love is crucial. It’s how the sport will be sustained. I know how important that feeling of inclusion is. It’s not just rainbow ribbons and tape — it goes beyond. It must go beyond. 

Hockey Is For Everyone, and similar events to it, is a start. But that’s just what it is. A start. It’s through actions small and large where the work continues. It’s through just telling someone that you hear them and support them. It’s through donations, no matter how big or small, to organizations that do incredible work. It's through offering a shoulder to cry on and being the loudest to voice support in triumphant moments. Allyship exists in so many forms. 

In the corner of the photo that won this award, if you look on the top right, you see a fan waving a rainbow flag, by the way. 

I’m so lucky that the passion for my work led me to do what I love alongside the love of my life also doing what he loves. People say working with your significant other isn’t ideal, but now that I don’t do it as much anymore, I can say that I miss it greatly. Jack, you make me laugh and feel so incredibly happy. I love you. All the friends and colleagues I made through my work have been the greatest blessings and deserve all the thanks. My friends outside of work who remind me that life is more than just a camera, you deserve all the gold stars. Thank you. My family - Mom, Dad, Colette, Kaiden, Charlotte and Xander, thank you for all your cheerleading. 

But lastly and mostly importantly, thank you to everyone who has let me point a camera at them. The way I’ve been included in vulnerable, intimate and beautiful moments just by simply being there and doing my job — it’s a feeling that never gets old. Thank you for letting me into your life. I look forward to continue doing it with integrity and love for as long as I can.

yours,

amelie fishel

~*~*~

tag list (lmk if you wanna be a part of it!!): @ru-kru , @bunbunbl0gs

[eijiroukiriot]

Maya did you hear? That last fanart you reblogged makes references to some panels of the chapter 431 of mha. Apparently bkg and kiri are still good friends in the future, seeing him having shotgun and eating in bkg's car?(He is so pretty too <3 my baby's face card and big lashes never declained hell yeah) they are besties :') knew they were hanging out and doing their thing "behind cameras" im so happy for that that's all i wanted at this point.

Gonna miss the kids man mid ass shounen manga but the characters are so dear to me still, hope things are going good for you take care.

HELLO!!! i'm back from months of silence on this blog!!! thank you for the message, i hope you're doing well! i live in shock and awe that krbk's deep, inexplicable friendship was confirmed all the way up to the end of the end!!

i somehow managed to delete twitter JUST before leaks hit but was still using other social media for another day or so, which is how i reblogged that art not knowing it was based in canon at all!! i even remember thinking "aw i'm happy pa/unchsalazar comes back to krbk every now and again". back in august i was underwhelmed w how cramped the original/"true" ending was, so i was really enthusiastic abt an epilogue that could give the characters (especially izuku) a little more time to speak. however in noooooooo way did i expect any sort of krbk interactions, let aloooone to the extent that we got!!

my own personal krbk anniversary (january 15th!!) came around this year for the 7th time - i have always been mega mega deep into krbk but this chapter really threw me for a loop. hopefully this stays in my krbk tumblr containment chamber but i think realistically this is the most krbk ending we could've gotten so in my heart i kind of see them as supported by canon. and if that sounds far fetched then let's get into the question of what is krbk anyways? an anime ship? a "bond between equals"? a strong friendship between two boys that, no matter how far their stories converge, always gets circled back to? i think honestly the gray area of them having a really admirable friendship that also makes you think "if they're just friends then what the fuck is going on" has always been part of why i like them so much and what is more "what the fuck is going on" than bakugou using the kanji from kirishima's hero name in his own hero title, despite all language norms and for no feasible reason. their weird friendship grew up with them. i love them.

i agree that lol i am going to miss the distinct lovable flavor of mid that bnha provided - that really hit me in the chapter where deku finds uraraka on the cliff and calls her his hero, then the entire class finds and joins them. it's equally odd and pleasant imo that bnha has been winding down as i've been preparing to leave japan. i feel really lucky to have been here for most of the wind down and to have gotten to buy its very last chapter in jump and visited a lot of the victory-lap events - on that note here's a picture of when i got to take krbk to the tokyo tower collab:

(the tokyo tower collab is the source of this character art and alongside lots of merch and collab drinks the main event was a "mystery game" where you solve a packed of puzzles using clues on the character standees scattered around the tower. i found it totally delightful and also really challenging at times - i partnered up with another foreigner girl and we muscled through the final stage together and still needed the help of a verrrry kind staff woman to complete it)

...and i'm going to try to make it to as many events as i can before my time is through!! next weekend i'm attending my first doujinshi market!! and a lot of krbk artists i've known for a long time are gonna be there!! in that same weekend i also want to check off the tokyo skytree collab. it's funny because i was never interested at all in going to tokyo tower or skytree but then randomly because of bnha i'll be knocking them both out in the span of 2 months. lol. i'm also really excited to go to the final art exhibition and will report back on if bakugou "gets too shy to talk about kirishima" in the audio narration this time around

that ended up mostly being about me and my life but seriously thank you for the message!! i hope you're doing so well!! i really love this revived era of krbk the epilogue has thrown us into and i wish a very prosperous february of krbk to all of y'all with all the art and fics people have so lovingly been posting. as of this afternoon i'm done with my grad school apps so now i can tackle the wips i've had sitting in my drive since this summer!! and hopefully be back to talk to y'all soon!!! if anyone is still reading i'd love to know what you've been up to and what krbks thoughts have been on your mind. and other than that i really do hope you have a nice day!

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Break In

ectoberhaunt24 day 11- a dark and stormy night tw- none summary- Time to break into the school

masterlist ao3 part 4 of AHINWTG

They planned the break in for Friday night since even the teachers would have wanted to go home as soon as they could to enjoy what little they could of the weekend. It had been pretty cloudy all day, but the weather station wasn’t predicting any rain.

They should have known better.

Fate did so enjoy making fun of weathermen.

That is why it started raining as soon as Sam and Tucker left Sam’s house. And of course it was only sprinkling at first. It should have been fine. But no! They were only halfway to the school when it started pouring.

“If I get sick because of this, I’ll make sure to infect you.” Tucker grumbled.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just stop complaining and get a move on. The sooner we get to the school the sooner we can get inside.”

“Because breaking in and looking for a ghost’s records is any better.” Tucker grumbled under his breath.

Sam ignored him.

By the time they made it to the school they were completely soaked.

“Come on.” Sam said, leading them around the side of the school to the gym entrance, since that door didn’t have any cameras. She pulled out her lock picks as Tucker held the flashlight. 

She was done in under a minute.

“Good thing the school doesn’t care about updating any of their equipment.” she muttered as they slipped inside. Sam led them along the corridors that didn’t have cameras until they got near the office. “Your turn.” she muttered.

“You’ll have to give me a lift.” he said, pointing toward the camera that was aimed at the office door. 

They crept along the corridor backs pressed to the wall until they were under the camera. Sam linked her fingers and held them at knee level. Tucker placed his foot in them and grunted as he pushed himself up, trying to keep close to the wall. He worked quickly, inserting his tools into the camera’s base and fiddling with the wires until the camera shut down.

“There.” he whispered and barely got down in time before Sam opened her hands. He scowled at her, and she smirked back. He sighed. “When we get in, we’re going to have to make it seem like a glitch.” 

She nodded before using her lock picks on the office door, and then used them again on the records room inside.

They both groaned simultaneously as they saw the several filing cabinets and the files left sitting haphazardly stacked on top of them and on the floor.

“Well, this might take longer than we thought.” Sam said.

“You think?” Tucker explained. 

Sam rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get to work. The faster we finish the faster we can get back home. We’re looking for the name Fenton.”

“I know.” Tucker said, and Sam could tell without looking that he was rolling his eyes again.

They stopped talking then, each taking a filing cabinet to start searching through. It was of course, in no kind of order as far as Sam could tell.

She thought they’d been searching for about half an hour when she felt a chill. She shivered, frowning. The room felt colder.

“Did the AC turn on?” Tucker asked.

“I don’t think so.”

There was a pause. “Do you think we should…” Tucker started.

“Should what?” Sam said even though she knew what he probably wanted.

“Get out of here.” He scowled at her.

“Let’s just keep looking for another fifteen minutes. It’s probably just a draft. We both know how old this school is.”

“Fine. But if I die…”

“You’ll haunt me. I know.” Sam rolled her eyes. She was about to reach for the next file in the drawer she was going through when the drawer slammed shut, almost taking her fingers with it. She inhaled sharply.

She heard another drawer slam, and Tucker yelped.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

She gulped. “Okay. We can go now." She turned toward the door, but before she could take a step toward it a filing cabinet tipped over with a crash blocking the door.

Tucker cursed, and she reached for him. He latched onto her hand, his grip tight. 

Sam clenched her other hand into a fist and took a deep breath. “We’re trying to help.” She called into the room, hoping Phantom would hear her. And believe her, god she hoped he believed her. 

There was silence for a moment, then a filing cabinet rattled and a drawer opened. 

Sam inhaled sharply, and she heard Tucker whimper, but she walked toward the drawer pulling Tucker behind her. She looked quickly through the files and found one labeled Fenton, Daniel. 

This was it. She glanced at Tucker who was staring at her wide eyed. She only then noticed that they were both shivering and their breath was fogging in the air.

“Let’s go.” she whispered to Tucker. Then, turning to look into the room she called out, “Thank you.”

Filing cabinets rattled and when she turned back to the door, she saw that the filing cabinet that had fallen was back to its original position 

She inhaled through her nose. She would not panic. She would not.

“Come on.” she said to Tucker and pulled him through the door. 

Quickly they messed with the security footage to make it seem like all the cameras had gone out earlier in the night due to some kind of power failure. It took longer than it normally would have because Tucker's fingers were trembling. But finally they were leaving the school. It didn’t even matter anymore that it was storming outside.

They ran back to Sam’s house, the file secure in her backpack.