At some point, the cens sign a first-round pick rookie tendy from fucking siberia who barely speaks english. And he gets assigned to the Hollander-Rozanovs.
He lives with them for a few weeks while setting up his own housing, with much help from Mister Real Estate, of course. He's in absolute awe of Rozanov and is a little bit afraid of Hollander, and is on his politest behavior the entire time.
He's a great fucking goalie (á la Dobeš irl) so Hayes ends up with him mostly during practice and Shane or Ilya is always on call to translate as needed, but he's picking up the language quickly, even if his vocabulary is mostly hockey terms and simple questions to start.
During a roadie, his roomie pulls a girl so he knocks on the Captain's door and it's very late; he's hoping to wait out the requested hour somewhere other than the hotel lobby, bar, gym, or hallway. He isnt really expecting an answer; he knows from staying with them that they are probably already asleep (since he can't hear the noises he otherwise came to expect).
Shane answers and lets him in. Tells him in hushed Russian that Ilya is asleep, but does he want to watch Property Brothers? And the kid doesnt know what that is but he sits in the little side chair by the table and watches anyway. Shane always has subtitles on because they help him sometimes, and he knows Ilya prefers them on. The rookie likes them too; his english is already lightyears ahead of where he was when he signed, in no small part due to being assigned to the Hollander-Rozanovs.
Shane sits back in the bed up against the headboard and Ilya curls around him with a sleepy, questioning hum, slipping an arm across his lap.
"The rook's here," Hollander tells him, petting his frizzy head.
Rozanov's head pops up from the pillows by Shane's hip and he squints at the kid. He grunts and slurs something at Shane as he nestles back down and almost immediately starts snoring again, earning a soft smile and a snort from Hollander. The rookie watches out of his periphery as Hollander pets Rozanov's curls and watches the TV, their evening calm and quiet and achingly domestic even in a hotel room.
The next morning, Hollander scores a hat trick in the second period and the rook blocks all but 1 shots on goal, and Rozanov knocks someone's teeth out for plowing into him at the net, even though it was technically a clean hit.
The rookie thinks that, despite being mocked for it at first, being drafted by the gay team, and his own cultural nervousness over that, he's very lucky to have been drafted by the cens.
Convict!Ghost and innocent!reader who signs up for a program to visit and write letters to convicts without friends or families on the outside. You believe in the program, believe you're acting as a way to anchor a man, who would otherwise be lost, to society.
Ghost pretends you're getting through to him, nods and smiles when you tell him you know he can do better, be better. Meanwhile, he's thinking of all the filthy, depraved things he wants to do to you when he's released, thinking of his friend Soap in the laundry whose specialty is smuggling contraband in and wondering if he can convince you to slip him a nice lil picture of yourself or maybe even a pair of your panties. Soap probably wouldn't even want his usual cut, so long as he can get a look too.
-ˋ┈┈ 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐜 𝐦𝐞𝐧 ( requests are ... open ! )
22. "i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.”
contains: waitress!reader, small age-gap, flustered!adrian, fluff
Working at Fennel Fields wasn't a glamorous arrangement by any means, but it was convenient. Life in Evergreen was relatively cheap, but there weren't an abundance of job opportunities. You had been hired as a waitress a few months ago, a way to make some money while you finished up your degree, and so far, it didn't totally suck.
The most exciting part of your job so far had proven to be a certain blond busboy, who clearly had a bit of a crush on you, but could not flirt to save his life. Every time he tried to speak to you, he would stumble over his words and rush away before you could reassure him, and it would have irritated you if he wasn't so fucking cute.
His glasses were always a little crooked on his nose, his cheeks usually flushed a delicate pink, and he had this nervous little chuckle that made your heart flutter.
It was like a little game you played whenever your shifts aligned, flashing him smiles and waves across the restaurant. on more than one occasion, this had led to him dropping things on the floor and trying to recover from it not-so-smoothly.
Your coworker, Adrian Chase, was hopelessly adorable, and although he was a few years older and definitely awkward beyond belief, you were starting to develop a little crush on him, too.
That evening, the restaurant was unusually quiet. You seized the opportunity to step out into the alley and check your texts, but when you stepped into the autumn air, you were surprised to see Adrian out there as well, leaning against the wall with his phone in his hand.
When he looked up and saw you, he promptly fumbled with his phone and dropped it onto the concrete, scrambling to pick it up with little curses muttered under his breath.
You couldn't help but giggle a little. "You good?"
"Huh? Oh, me? Yeah, no, i'm good," he replied, trying to play it off as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.
"I didn't mean to scare you," you said, walking over to stand beside him.
"Scare me? Nah, you didn't. I just...didn't wanna get caught texting on the clock, y'know? I didn't realize it was you at first."
You leaned your shoulder against the brick wall, looking up at him. It was maybe a believable lie, but you had seen him shatter enough wine glasses in your presence to know it wasn't true. You made him nervous, and it intrigued you.
He was a good-looking guy; you had seen a customer leave him her number on a napkin just the other day, actually, and he had seemed completely stunned by it. Had he never had a girlfriend before?
"So, why haven't you tried to ask me out yet?" you asked boldly, a smirk playing on your lips.
Adrian flushed to the tips of his ears, babbling out a few nonsensical noises before finally landing on, "I'm sorry?"
"I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”
Adrian looked around as if he was searching for the hidden cameras in this elaborate prank. He opened his mouth and closed it again, before finally saying, "I mean...Do you want me to ask you out? Like...you'd say yes?"
You chuckled, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Yeah, I do. I would. I'd like to see you in an outfit that isn't this uniform."
He smiled, fiddling with the straps of his apron. "Yeah, um, you too. So...Do you want to go out sometime?"
You put your finger on your chin, like you were thinking about it. "Yes," you replied after a moment.
Adrian's face lit up, like he hadn't believed you were serious. "Okay, um, awesome! When are you free?"
You two arranged to meet up that weekend, and as you walked back inside of Fennel Fields, you swore you could hear Adrian doing some sort of victory dance, which made you laugh to yourself.
May I get a drabble about Perry having to kiss Heinz to either protect his identity or just keep Heinz quiet?
Thanks for reading! Feel free to delete for whatever reason ♡
Hiiiii, Thanks for the nice asks and thank you for your patience.
That time Perry and Doofenshmirtz bumped into Major Monogram and Carl in the supermarket was bad enough. Now, imagine Perry’s frustration when Heinz dragged him along to the supermarket again, this time to buy nougat and toothpaste. He was just minding his own business, trying to convince Heinz to buy a nicer shampoo than the cheapest one, and reading the ingredients on a bottle when a very familiar voice rang out behind him.
“Perry?”
It was Linda.
Perry turned, lightning-quick, and came face to face with Linda and Candace, who were looking at him in surprise.
“Hi.” She continued, eyeing him up and down in his work outfit. “My, don’t you look professional today.”
He barely had enough time to do a nervous little wave before Heinz caught on to the conversation behind him, and he turned.
“Perry? Do you know these people?” Heinz asked, and Perry turned to him vaguely aware that he was PANICKING. NOT GOOD. HEINZ AND FAMILY. BAD. VERY BAD.
“Hello?” Linda said politely. “Do you know Perry?”
Candace hadn’t seemed interested in the situation initially, but her uncle didn’t seem to know anybody. Him being in the supermarket with a stranger was perhaps the most exciting thing Perry had ever done in his miserable and boring life.
“Do I know Perry?” Heinz repeated thoughtfully, unaware that his nemesis had stopped breathing. “Yeah, of course I do.”
“Oh, well. Nice to meet you,” Linda said, extending one hand for Heinz to shake. “Although.” She looked at Heinz curiously. “Have we met before?”
Heinz accepted the gesture and shook Linda’s hand. “I have to be super honest with you. I am horrible with faces.” He explained. “I even forget Perry’s face sometimes. Only very rarely! But it has happened once or twice.
Despite his shock, Perry couldn’t help but crack a little smile. One of twice, his secretive ass.
“And how do you know Perry?” Linda asked conversationally, but she and her daughter both had matching curious expressions.
“Oh, you know,” Heinz explained happily, not aware that was was about to ruin Perry’s life forever. “Perry the Platypus is my secret-”
Agent. The next word was going to be agent, Perry realized. He had to do something and he had to do something NOW! There was no time for a plan, he had to act. So, Perry prepared himself and followed his instincts.
Perry jolted as he suddenly sprang to action as if he had been shocked by a bolt of lightning. With both hands, he grabbed Heinz’s face, pulled him down to his level and firmly and confidently smushed their mouths together right there in the middle of the super food stuff mart.
In a sudden wave of clarity, Perry remembered that sometimes INSTINCT. BAD. Like right now. There he was, mouth to mouth with his nemesis with no further plan. He could release Heinz, but then there would be many, many questions from Candace, Linda AND HEINZ.
So, since his instinct got him into this mess, his instinct could get him out.
Still kissing, Perry dragged Heinz around the corner to the next aisle, leaving Candace and Linda right there.
Stupified, they watched him go.
Over in the deodorant aisle, Perry released Heinz’s lips with a smack and placed him upright as Heinz stammered and stumbled, too confused by everything to speak coherently.
“I- eeh? Oh? Uh! aa.” He exclaimed.
Perry took Heinz by his slanted shoulders and shook him lightly.
“This is the weirdest dream I’ve had since that time I dreamt a tiny alien force-fed me watermelons. No. Wait. This is still stranger. Perry the platypus what was that about?!”
At least Heinz seemed to be coming back to his senses. Perry, unsure of how to explain, dug through his pockets and pulled out a pamphlet with the title “So you’ve found out your uncle is a secret agent. What now?” and pushed it into Heinz’s hand. 「Read that.」And off he went, back to the toothpaste aisle.
Linda and Candace were exactly where he had left them. Their mouths were still vaguely open in shock.
Perry smiled as innocently as he could as he jogged up to them. 「Whoopie」 He gestured at them.
Linda stared at his hands and blinked. “Whoopsie?” she repeated.
“What did you just do?!” Candace shouted. “And with him!” she gestured at the end of the aisle, where he had dragged Doof off to.
「Couldn’t help myself.」 Perry replied hysterically. 「What a stud, right?」
“... Right,” Linda replied, confused but supportive.
“NO!” Candace replied, because she was 15, always honest, and convinced something was wrong with Perry.
「Got to go!」Before he left, he grabbed a tube of toothpaste, and then he ran. Luckily for him, they didn’t even try to follow him.
Heinz was still busy reading the pamphlet when Perry returned and snatched it back. He presented him with the toothpaste, forced him into the next aisle, and refused to explain anything.
By the time he returned home to the Flynn-Fletcher residency, Perry was exhausted. But when he stepped into the kitchen he came face to face with Lawrence and Linda, who seemed to have been waiting for him.
“Oh, there you are Perry,” Linda said, and she turned to him. “Me and Lawrence are a bit worried about you.”
22!!!! u always do it so well but I will never get tired of magical realism landoscar!!!
22. magical realism
this is such a self-indulgent ficlet. tell me if this is anything bc i have Ideas for this universe lol. set in 2023/2024 prompt list
Lando’s thing is physical touch, for better or for worse.
Most people don’t make their languages public. It’s a private matter, after all, meant for you and the people close to you. But not for him. No, no, no. Apparently when you develop at the same time as your rookie year in F1, your love language becomes a talking point in post-race debriefs.
It happened once, the whole ‘fainting because his body was aching for physical touch’. He’d miscalculated his buffer time when the session dragged on after multiple yellow and red flags. He was young, sure, but he wasn’t clueless. It was just his luck that the cameras caught him at a bad time.
McLaren came under fire for not taking care of its drivers. It was absolutely horrifying, especially because it wasn’t true at all. Jon and a few from his garage were briefed; they know that a side-hug or a shoulder tap goes a long way. His friends have direct access to his driver’s room. His dad travels as much as he can.
Lando’s teammate is— was —Carlos. His language is physical touch, too, so he knows. He understands. He’s the first to pinch Lando’s sides, to clasp his shoulders, to hug and hold and press their faces close together.
Through the ups and downs of Lando’s rookie year, Carlos was there to ground him. Lando likes to think he did the same for Carlos. He’s not good with words, never has been, and every time he tried to express his gratitude, Carlos laughed and pulled him in for a hug.
The way Lando sees it, of all the love languages, physical touch is the greediest. There’s no substitute for it, no make-do. There simply is or there isn’t.
Dating people with mismatched languages is difficult. That’s Life 101. Cross-compatibility isn’t assured as well. It’s safer, it’s best for everyone involved to keep to their lanes.
But it’s not the law. It’s just the easiest path.
For a time, McLaren had that same thinking. He and Carlos worked well. He could’ve been happy not knowing anything else.
Okay, so that’s unrealistic. Formula One is ever-changing. To find a solid place means you’re one of the greats— like Michael, like Lewis, like the great Charles Leclerc experiment.
Back in 2019, Lando only saw what was in front of him. Rookie year. Endless possibilities. Carlos. The future was far ahead. He lived in the present, he had to, or else he wouldn’t be half as quick.
Then 2021 came. Daniel’s another PT guy, very open and positive about it. He doesn’t see it as a weakness, having to be touched every few hours or so, having your welfare depend on somebody else. Max says it’s because he’s never been unloved, and Max would know. Daniel and Max are one of the few registered Partners on the grid.
Carlos and Lando have thought about it, of course they have, but at the end of the day, it’s added paperwork on something they already do. They sleep in each other’s rooms, in each other’s spaces, breathing and living in unison.
Lando got fucking lucky. Imagine having Carlos as your first teammate. Imagine.
Daniel’s good. Daniel was good. He and Lando were both PT, which was already something they had going for them. The car’s development was all over the place, but Lando and Daniel weren’t. They had the same needs, the same wants. Daniel’s limbs always spilled over Lando’s seat— a certain kind of warmth Lando would describe as burning.
Around that time, Lando grew more comfortable in his life. Grew into being himself. He appreciated being alone more and more even if it meant remaining untouched.
The travels were long, the rest so little in between. Relationships fell through. Lando didn’t mind. He had Daniel.
Then he didn’t.
Oscar comes from a new generation of drivers whose love languages are “confidential”. It's a cool thing, apparently. A social media movement, a cultural phenomenon. Love no matter the language.
That’s why his language wasn’t disclosed to Lando when the contracts were finalized.
“But he knows mine,” Lando pointed out. How’s that fair?
“We can assure you Mr. Piastri’s language won’t interfere with the team’s daily affairs,” the lawyers assured him.
Translation: Oscar doesn’t need Lando.
But Lando needs Oscar, frustrating as that may be.
In a pinch, teammates are your best bet. They’re always nearby, in the same boat as you are, even when you’re not in a boat but on a plane, but not exactly, because your flight’s been cancelled and you’re stuck in another damned airport with your body clock still in another continent.
That was the first time it happened.
Lando was tired, and so was everybody else. The managers were wrangling for flight seats, Lando was wrangling for his consciousness. He knew it was more than the lack of rest, more than another pointless weekend spent as a backmarker. Lando was exhausted.
He curled up on a random bench, vaguely aware Oscar was sitting on the other end. Someone had instructed the team to stick close in case seats opened up.
Lando was—
Doesn’t matter now. What’s more important is what Oscar did.
Lando dozed off at some point. He was woken up by Oscar’s hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.
“Mate, come on,” Oscar said. His head blocked the light, a halo around him.
Lando blinked up at him, quiet.
Oscar laughed. “Sleepyhead, let’s go.”
He pulled Lando up. Lando counted at least four points of contact.
He and Oscar, they weren’t—
Doesn’t matter.
“Are you okay?” Oscar asked. He was a breath closer than he usually was.
Lando nodded and hoped his face didn’t betray anything— the churning, the melting, the grounding —he was feeling.
Oscar tilted his head, confused. Without prompting, he touched Lando’s forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re warm. Are you sick?”
“No,” Lando managed out. “I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well.”
Oscar retreated. “If you say so.”
“I say so.”
This is the part that matters.
Instead of leaving Lando by himself— reeling, thinking, wanting —Oscar held out his hands and touched Lando’s face. Thumbs across his cheeks, fingers on his chin. Small and shaking. Unsure.
“Is this okay?” Oscar asked. There was that soft, slow tilt of his voice.
Lando leaned into his touch, eyes closed. “Yeah, it is.”
He heard Oscar’s smile, a small puff of air.
When Lando opened his eyes, Oscar was still in front of him.
Oscar opens his mouth once, twice, before finally saying, “Next time, just ask me.”
Lando didn’t know he could.
When Jon and Kim called them over, Oscar stepped back and acted no different— as if he hadn’t shifted Lando’s whole perspective a few degrees to the left.
Oscar’s smart, then and now. Lando was learning he was kind as well.
Lando’s parents raised him right. He was grateful, and he’d act like it, too.
Oscar must need something. Don’t they all?
Afterwards, in the plane, Oscar chooses the seat beside Lando for the first time. Lando couldn’t sleep, but he wasn’t tired. All night, he thought, What’s your language? How can I say thank you in a way you’ll understand?
Mina’s dorm - her door was slightly cracked open. A thin strip of light and laughter traveled across the hallway. Katsuki had just ran upstairs to grab his wallet when he overheard your laugh in particular.
Ochaco gasps
“Haha whatnow?” You slurred and giggled
“You heard me” Mina laughed
“No-no say that again!?” Hakagare hiccuped
“I bet ..he can’t fuck to a slow song” she drags it out for the people in the back
You had to think about it. They were right, you guys had been dating for a few months and the sex… oh god it’s so good, he’s —so good but no matter how hard you tried you can’t recall him ever going slow.
“See SEEEE what did I say? She’s not even denying it!” Mina squealed. You pulled the pillow to your face and everyone started laughing.
“Pretty girls like it rough anyways” you smiled throwing your pillow at Mina which started a pillow fight. He heard enough so he left smirking.
✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
“Oh fuck baby” your back arches as he pushes between your slick folds. The way you open up for him always has him swearing and grabbing on you tighter. He had his bare chest pressed against your back while rocked inside you, pushing your right leg over until it was almost flush against the bed.
This new angle has him hovering above you as you lay on your side between his hands —soaked and craving the stretch of his hard cock more than usual. It’s pressed deep inside as you fist the sheets. “Baby girl!” he moans as he bottoms out. You’re drowning his cock and he can’t get enough. He wants to be deeper and if he could fuck you in your dreams he would.
He shifts his weight to the arm behind you, slides his hand over your hip, and grips your ass. He pulls that cheek up and open and pushes even deeper. Your moan is so pornographic it makes his grip stronger almost bruising. “Right -there -huh?” he pants stroking at this unfamiliar slow pace
“Yes fuck!” you’re making his eyes roll back at the way you’re sounding and squeezing.
He pulls all the way out still keeping you open with his fingers. Your breath hitches at the way he drives back in —hard, deliberate, calculated.
Fuck it’s too calculated because now you can’t stop creaming and he won’t stop doing it. “God I love this pussy baby —gonna make me cum” you’ve got his cock twitching and covered in your juices
“Can I —cum inside?” he pants, his lips slightly brushing against your ear.
You lost it! He’s never fucked you like this, never asked to cum either but holy fucking shit your orgasm is powerful. “Fuck Y/N -Y/N —Y/N” you push back bracing on your elbows as his thrusts get sloppy, filling you with his hot cum.
He rolls on you so now your tummy is flush on the bed. He doesn’t even bother pulling out. Just making out with your neck and shoulder like he didn’t just cum. You felt him getting hard inside you. Kissing your cheek until he gets to your lips. It’s intense, it’s burns right to your core —sending that aching need to have him moving again.
You start moving your hips in a circle as he gradually begins thrusting again. His cum is spilling —the view so yummy like a dam that’s being overflowed. The sound -fuck “So —good” you pant into the sheets.
His thrusts are still slow but even harder now. Your ass jiggles each time his hips meet your cheeks “Mmm remind me to record this next time —shit, wish you could see this.” He pulls out and rubs his cum all over your clit and slides his cum soaked cock between your ass cheeks —squeezing them together creating that hotdog and bun effect as he strokes.
His balls are bouncing off your sensitive clit, each thrust harder than the last. You slowly poke your ass up so you’re low on your knees and he catches on right away.
You’ve made him even more excited, eager —such a turn on to see you show him what you want. He takes one of your hand and pins it on your lower back and his other presses on your opposite shoulder.
He drives in with enough force to make the headboard rattle. “KATS” you exhale. He repeats, no change in pace just accurate thrusts that all have you screaming his name. “Again!” he demands
“KATS!”
“AGAIN” he coaches
“KATS”
“F-fuck AGAIN baby!”
“OH MY GOD KATSS” you unravel and flutter on his cock as a huge wave of pleasure washes over your body as his nears too. “OH FUCK” he pulls out just enough to watch it leak out. His toes curl as he breathes heavily. “That slow enough for ya?” he kisses behind your ear.
It's not that Chris is such a natural born big brother, although he really ends up liking it a lot. It's not that Chris understands Theo in a lot of different way because they both have some very ADHD suspicious behaviour, although he definitely sees some of his own struggles reflected back in Theo. It's not that Chris decides to help in taking care of Theo because that's what family does and Buck is the steadiest presence of family he's ever known.
Their surprisingly balanced sibling dynamic is not Christopher's credit. It's mostly Theo.
Theo, who sees Chris for the first time and tells him that they have similar hair.
Theo, who asks why Chris walks funny and listens to the explanation so intently that Buck is tearing up from the other room where he's eavesdropping.
Theo, who asks if Chris can't play with him because of his CP (which ends up as Sippy because he's 4) and starts beaming when Chris explains that he can and wants to play with him just sometimes he has to do things differently.
Theo, who from that moment on, makes it his mission to create games that he can specifically play with Chris because he is awesome and he deserves his own games.
Theo, who accelerates like a formula 1 car and disappears from Bucks or Eddie's side constantly, giving them heart attacks left and right but Chris had to ask him once to slow down because he can't keep up with his super speed and ever since, he walks by Christopher's side, jumping and bouncing and spinning around but never running off. Even if he decides he absolutely needs to run, he runs circles around Chris instead of bolting in whichever direction.
Everyone else is shocked. Stunned to silence whenever Theo becomes an absolute angel when he's around Chris — still hyperactive, still bouncing with excitement, still eager to do things but calm enough that he doesn't blow up or break or burn down anything.
And one day, Chris and Theo fall asleep cuddling on the couch with a random animated movie playing on the TV. Buck covers them with a fluffy blanket and retreats to the kitchen where Eddie is waiting with a beer cracked open for him. And Buck sighs, saying something about how he still cannot wrap his head around how close Theo and Chris have gotten. How good of an effect Chris has on Theo's behaviour. How Theo is so empathetic in the way only children can be.
Smiling, Eddie shrugs. "I mean, it's not that big of a surprise. He's your son."
And Buck hasn't really accepted that role for himself so far, even though it's been months since Theo came into his life like the perfect little hurricane he is. He didn't feel the right. But Eddie says it in a way that finally breaks through a wall that he's been building since the moment he laid that beautiful, perfect baby boy onto Cameron's chest.
Maybe he is Theo's dad after all. If Eddie believes so, it can't be that crazy. Even if he really couldn't have done this without Eddie, it wouldn't be so crazy.
