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[waitingforminjae]

whoa

[hoshifighting]

      jeonghan + anonymous sex

— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.

you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.

“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.

“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.

she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”

you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”

“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.

finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.

jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”

you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”

you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.

“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”

“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.

you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.

“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.

jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”

you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.

“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”

“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”

she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”

it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.

“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”

she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”

“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”

you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.

then again—footsteps.

you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.

you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”

you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.

before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”

he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”

“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”

he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”

“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”

“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”

he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”

“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”

“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.

“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”

he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”

you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”

“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.

and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.

he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.

“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”

his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”

“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”

he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.

“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.

“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”

the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.

“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.

“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.

and god, you were close to breaking already.

one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.

“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.

he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.

he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”

you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.

his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”

you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.

he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.

“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.

“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.

“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”

you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.

you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.

“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.

“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.

the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”

he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”

you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.

“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”

you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.

“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”

you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.

the thing was;

his eyes had been wide open the whole time.

he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.

as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.

he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.

he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.

“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.

“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”

every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.

“tell me how good it feels.”

“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.

“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”

he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.

“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”

with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.

but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”

“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.

just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.

he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.

“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.

“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.

“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.

a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.

and—

mr. yoon?

“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.

“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.

you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.

“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.

he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.

“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.

your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.

he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”

“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?

you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.

“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”

the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.

[...]

monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.

jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.

the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.

“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”

you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.

he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.

he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”

with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.

“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”

you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?

he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.

“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”

[hairmetal666]

Eddie survived the Upside Down. The bats. Vecna. And after the hospital, the town recovery, the shady government agencies clearing his name, after all of that, he has the best year and a half of his life. A lot of it is due to Steve and Robin. Well. The whole group of them, really, but Harrington and Buckley specifically.

Except that, you know, he survived extra-dimensional horrors and now he's going to die anyway, brought down in his prime by his devastating crush on Steve Harrington.

It's a stupid way to meet his end. Even worse than going at the hands of a demented telepathic wizard named after a DnD monster. Though...it's not like he didn't see the crush coming a mile away. Eddie may not have any practical experience in matters of the heart, but he knows he likes a pretty boy and Steve is the prettiest of them all.

There is no dimension where his feelings are requited, so he flirts and he pines, and knows it means nothing when Steve matches him quip for quip, touch for touch. He keeps getting himself in these situations where he thinks--maybe--but Steve is straight, constantly goes out with pretty, bubbly girls.

The pining may kill him, but he's determined to leave this world with a little bit of grace.

Until Steve's Halloween party.

It's a whole thing. All the kids, the rest of their own group of young adults, plus the Hellfire Boys, and the actual adults. It's a weird mix, but Eddie figures that, well. It's a family thing.

Halloween is his favorite holiday, one he plans for all year, but this year he decides to take it easy, electing to do a take on the vampire gang from The Lost Boys. The party is in full swing when they walk in, Wayne quickly spotting Hopper and making his way to the kitchen, but Eddie doesn't see Steve in the chaos of kids and Jonathan and Argyle's dual Frankensteins.

He grabs a beer from Robin who keeps giving him this look all knowing and sparkling and he doesn't understand it, not until he hears delighted laughter and shouts in the main room.

Buckley squeezes past him, and he takes the moment alone to close his eyes, brace for whatever fresh, unwitting, torture Steve has in store for him tonight.

He steps into the living room and time freezes.

Steve's in the shortest shorts Eddie's ever seen, thick, muscular, bitable thighs on full display. He's wearing a pink sweatshirt, neon fingerless gloves that very distantly Eddie recognizes as belonging to El, and gold hoop earrings in both ears.

Eddie has to sit down.

Wham! Isn't his kind of music, and he finds George Michael grating because of it, but--he's seen men dressed like that in magazines he steals from bookstores in Indianapolis, had wondered if George Michael was gay too. And now here Steve is, looking like a fantasy ripped direct from Eddie's brain.

Before he can make an escape, someone turns on the Monster Mash. The two Frankenstein's lurch into the room and start dancing. The rest of them are quick to follow, even Wayne and Hopper, after some light cajoling from Joyce, Max, and El.

It's silly fun, the perfect way for Eddie to forget about Steve and the way his ass looked in those shorts. They dance and goof around, and Thriller comes on, so they all try to do the dance, him and Nancy laughing until their stomachs hurt with their stiff-limbed moves.

The song switches to Material Girl, making El and Max screech, and the next thing he knows, Steve is in front of him, shimmying along. It's the closest they've been all night and now Eddie can see the faint eyeliner smudged along Steve's lash line. Something low and hot tightens in his core.

Steve grabs his shoulders, pulls Eddie closer. "C'mon, Munson, even you have to dance to Madonna!"

He laughs through his breathlessness, can't believe he and Steve are dancing together, not with Steve looking like that, somehow innocent, sexy, and ripe all at once.

Their eyes meet and Steve smiles all slow and dangerous, knotting up Eddie's stomach with a wild kind of anticipation. He doesn't have time to stop himself feeling it, can only give himself over to the shrinking distance between their bodies, the way Steve is warm and muscular against him.

Eddie's not hearing the music anymore, unaware of all their friends dancing close by. He's hypnotized by the dark heat in Steve's hazel eyes, lets himself clutch at Steve's hip, drag their bodies together. He feels Steve's breath escape in a quick burst, and it's a crash of cold water.

He disentangles himself, rushes out the patio doors. The night air is bracing as it chills his heated skin, his burning lungs. He takes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lighting it with a shaking hand.

That was too much. He let himself feel too much; want too much. Got swept away by Steve in makeup and earrings and tiny shorts. On the street, he hears children laughing, music thumping from a passing car, tries to get lost in that instead of his embarrassment. It makes him miss the slide of the patio door opening again. Doesn't realize he's not alone until he hears Steve say, "Eddie? You okay?"

He nods, but doesn't turn. "Just needed some air." He lifts the smoldering embers of his cigarette before dropping it and stomping it out.

Steve stands close enough that their shoulders bump. Eddie forces himself not to flinch away. "What are you doing out here? You'll freeze." It's not all a deflection.

"I'm fine," Steve says. "Sweatshirt." He wiggles the sleeve in Eddie's face.

"Yeah, but your legs, man. C'mon." He pulls his jacket off his shoulders. "At least cover them up a little."

Steve gives him an annoyed smile, but takes the jacket, trying to settle the leather around his legs. It's kind of a losing battle, but it makes them both laugh.

"I'm sorry," Steve says. "For back there. I shouldn't have pushed."

"Pushed?" Eddie feels like he missed a couple of stairs on his way down. "You didn't--"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I did, Eddie. And Robin said," he sighs. "Robin said to just talk to you but I'm shit with words, so."

"So?" He faces Steve now, completely perplexed about where this is going. "I'm the one who pushed too far."

"Of course you didn't." Steve laughs a little. "I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to be close to you."

Eddie takes a step back, nervous smile on his face. "Is this some kind of weird joke?"

"What? No! Why would it be? I'm trying to say that I like you, man."

"Wha--But you're--"

"Don't--don't say popular or a jock or any of that. I'm--you know who I am, Eddie, better than most people."

"I was going to say straight."

Steve stills, blinking. "I told you I was bisexual."

"You did not!" Eddie yelps.

"I did! After went to see The Lost Boys!" He grabs Eddie's leather jacket. "I said I thought Kiefer Sutherland was sexy!"

"I thought you were being hyperbolic!"

"I wore this for you!" Steve wiggles his naked calf in Eddie's face.

"I don't like even like Wham!"

"You stared at a picture of George Michael in this outfit in one of El's Teen Beats for fifteen minutes!"

"I did NOT!" Except now that Steve's said it, Eddie has a pretty good memory of doing that very thing. "Wait. You were trying to seduce me by dressing as George Michael?"

"Like you weren't doing the same with the whole hot vampire biker thing?"

"I didn't expect it to work!"

He doesn't--will never--know who closes the distance first, but they crash together in a clash of mouths and teeth and noses. Steve's hands fist into Eddie's t-shirt, Eddie yanking at Steve's belt loops, until nothing separates them.

The kiss breaks as Steve mouths along his jaw, down his neck, and Eddie's fucking helpless at the turn of events. Never in his wildest fantasies--

"Stay tonight?" Steve asks, voice muffled against Eddie's skin.

"Are you kidding, sweetheart? I'm going to tear these shorts off with my teeth."

[nhlclover]

HO HO HO! COLE CAUFIELD

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x cole caufield

summary: cole draws the short straw and has to dress as santa claus for the team party

warnings: mentions of kids + habs players

wc: 1.32k

notes: fic nine of my twelve days of christmas! sort of inspire by how jeremy swayman would dress up for linus ullmarks kids. i just know cole would be so engaged with those kids, pretending like he hates it but he's actually having fun being dressed as santa

The party was already in full swing by the time you and Cole arrived, the low hum of conversation layered over bursts of laughter and the occasional shriek of children playing tag around the towering Christmas tree in the center of the room. The festive energy in Nick and Caitlin’s home was contagious — the twinkling light, the faint scent of cinnamon and pine, and the gleaming smiles of the players and their families made the room feel alive.

Cole, beside you, was decidedly less enthused.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, his hand resting lightly on your back as you navigated through the crowd. “It’s not fair that just because we don’t have kids, I automatically have to be Santa this year.”

“That’s not the only reason and you know it. You were the one who lost the bet.” you pointed out with a grin, enjoying his simmering annoyance far more than you should. “Besides, you make a cute Santa.”

He shot you a flat look, though the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Santa’s supposed to be, like, jolly and old. Not…” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Whatever I am.”

“Grumpy and young?” you teased, leaning into him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the kids will love you.”

His response was a low grumble as you slipped into the guest room where the Santa costume was laid out, along with a fat suit to help Cole mimic the jolly old man's build.

“Get changed, Claus,” you said, giving him a playful nudge.

With a dramatic sigh, Cole began to change into the suit. You could hear him muttering something under his breath about “team spirit” and “ridiculous traditions,” but you knew he’d go through with it. That was just Cole — he’d complain all he wanted, but in the end, he always showed up.

A couple of minutes later, after struggling to pull the red garments on, Cole had become Santa Claus. The red suit hung awkwardly on him, and the faux beard was slightly askew, revealing the shadow of his jawline. His hair, always a little too wild to fully cooperate, stuck out from under the Santa hat. And yet, somehow, he made it work — or maybe that was just the biased opinion of someone who was hopelessly in love with him.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he deadpanned, his voice as flat as the look he was giving you.

“Perfect,” you said, grinning as you adjusted the beard slightly. “You’ll have the kids lining up in no time.”

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped into the main room, the children noticed Santa’s arrival. A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by excited shrieks and a mad dash toward Cole. A wave of tiny hands tugged at his sleeve and bounced around him like he was a celebrity.

To his credit, Cole softened almost instantly. His shoulders dropped, and though he still looked a little awkward in the suit, a patient smile replaced the scowl. He sank into the oversized armchair that had been prepped for Santa, leaning back with a sigh.

One by one, the kids lined up to share their Christmas wishes. One girl asked for a Barbie dreamhouse; a little boy rambled enthusiastically about a remote-controlled dinosaur; and Hudson Matheson earnestly requested a new puppy even though you could both see Mike and Emily mouthing “NO” from across the room.

You leaned against the doorway, trying to contain your grin. There was something inexplicably heart-melting about watching Cole interact with the kids. He wasn’t trying too hard — just enough to make them feel heard and special.

At one point, David Savard’s young boy piped up, “Santa, you’re kinda short.”

The room fell silent for a split second before a ripple of chuckles from the adults broke the tension. Cole’s head turned slowly toward you, his expression deadpan, though his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. You could practically hear the sarcastic remark forming in his head, but instead, he leaned down toward the boy.

“Short?” he asked, lowering his voice like he was letting the boy in on a big secret. “That’s just because the North Pole has less gravity. Makes us all a little taller up there. But when I come down here, I, uh, shrink a bit.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to process this information. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied with the answer. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as Cole shot you a quick, triumphant smirk.

The questions about the North Pole kept coming. “How do reindeer fly?” asked one little girl with bright pigtails. “Is it true elves don’t sleep?” asked another. Cole handled each inquiry with surprising ease, weaving a tapestry of whimsical explanations about reindeer protein shakes and elves who take “snow naps” instead of sleeping.

The more you watched, the harder it became to ignore the growing warmth in your chest. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, simply watching your boyfriend interact with the kids, but eventually, Nick sidled up next to you, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Gotta admit,” he said, grinning as he watched Cole answer yet another question, “he’s better at this than I thought he’d be.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, he’s pretty great.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You’re totally swooning right now.”

You didn’t bother denying it. How could you, when Cole was sitting there, surrounded by a crowd of giggling kids, wearing a Santa suit that somehow made him even more endearing?

Eventually, Nick stepped in to relieve Cole of his duties, telling the kids that Santa had to get back to the North Pole to work on the gifts they’d requested. Cole waved goodbye, returning hugs to the tots who came and hugged his hip. You slipped out of the room shortly after Cole did, going back to the spare room he used as a change room. When you entered, Cole was slumped down on the bed, the fake beard askew and the Santa hat sitting crooked on his head. You approached him, grinning as he peeled off the beard and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

“Well?” he asked, his voice tired but still laced with a faint hint of amusement. “How’d I do?”

“Adorable,” you said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “You might’ve just saved Christmas.”

Cole groaned dramatically, though the corners of his mouth curved upward. “Great. From now on, I’m Santa every year, huh?”

You laughed, sitting beside him. “Oh, absolutely. You’re a natural.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching as if suppressing a grin. “You know, you were staring at me pretty hard back there. Almost like you were… enjoying the whole Santa look a little too much.”

Heat crept up your neck. “What? No. That’s—”

“Oh, no need to be embarrassed,” he cut you off, leaning back with an exaggerated stretch. “If you’re into jolly old men in red suits, who am I to judge?”

“Actually,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting, “I’m more into what’s under the suit.”

His eyes fully opened now, the exhaustion replaced with something sharper, warmer, as his gaze fixed on yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping just slightly, invitingly.

You leaned closer, one hand settling on his thigh, the grin on your face softening into something more intimate. “Yeah,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Grumpy, young, and ridiculously good with kids? That’s the real magic.”

He looked at you for a beat, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he teased, but his hand slid up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Even when he’s wearing a fat suit.”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, the festive sounds of the party fading into the background. “Merry Christmas, Cole.”

He grinned, tilting his forehead to yours. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[romana-after-dark]

Dirty Old Man

Dark!Old Man!Logan x fem!reader

Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan is your driver, and one day he gets tired of keeping his hands to himself. Logan's POV.

Warnings: NON CON! DDDNE!!!!! Alcohol consumption, breeding kink but reader is on birth control. slapping. big, girthy, throbbing, rock hard age gap. crying, dirty talk. Absolutely wild slut shaming and misogyny in Logan's head. Seriously yall he's bad here. Theres nothing redeeming about him.

1.5 K words

Minors DNI, DEAD DOVE!!!

Support writers and artists, reblog and leave comments

He’d been watching you for longer than you realized.

Logan was used to taking odd jobs, having just enough to get by and when he tires of one place or another, he quits and finds somewhere else. But this right here? Yeah, he was sticking around for a bit.

You were a stupid little thing, silly and bubble head with a great pair of tits and a niave view of the world. He was your driver, taking you all around the streets of New York, anywhere from fancy gala’s to Sex and the City style luncheons -wait no it’s called brunch-, Sex and the City style brunches, to sleepovers with friends. Every time you hoped in the pretentious car, you slid in the back with a hello, and hopped out with a goodbye and a thank you. Today was no different.

A little crisp out for such a small dress, don’t you think?

Fall was coming, even if it grew later and later every year for the leaves to turn yellow and the wind to cool around you. Still, it never stopped dumb girls like you from dressing in the skimpiest little things, just tempting nasty old men like him, testing, teasing, until there was a consequence. You really needed to learn a lesson, didn’t you? One by one, Logan dropped off your slutty little friends, all dressed in an aray of orange and red and black and all the fall colors that were fashionable for bimbo’s like them to pay attention to. This wasn’t all your friend he’d driven to the club, some of them probably went off to get railed by some horny college student who just had to compliment them once or twice and they were sliding their underwear to the side.

You weren’t like them. You were wearing white, as pure as the day you were born, your sweet little head too filled up with thoughts of sunshine and flowers to be someone who’d let a man touch you like that. That’s why Logan wasn’t going to be ‘let’, he was going to take.

Drunk like your father every evening trying to drown out your nagging mother, you babbled on about the evening to him after your last friend left, filling him in on all the innocent fun you had at the club. You weren’t like the others, you didn’t grind on men or kiss your friends for attention or snort coke, you were happy with a several drinks and a good time.

“Back home, bub?” He asks you, looking through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, please, Mr. Smith.” You replied with his alias. He wanted to make you scream Logan, Logan, Logan. A pause. “Where are we?”

Logan had pulled into an empty alley, smirking at the knit of your eyebrows in confusion. “Gotta check the back tire, bub. Seems off.”

You were too drunk and stupid to question him. Naive girl, so trusting. He went to the back right tire, near wear you sat, and bent over pretending to look, knowing you well enough to know you’d open the door and peek out.

“Wha- *hiccup* what is it, Mr. Smiff?” 

He chuckles at you slurring his faux name. 

“You can just call me Logan, kid, I told yuh that.” Logan stands, bracing his arm over the car frame, leaning over you. “Everything, I’m afraid.”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Everything?”

“Yeah baby, looks like we’re gonna have to kill some time.” He makes his move, pushing you onto the leather seats and shoving you down. For a moment, you don’t struggle, just a yelp of surprise but Logan can see the realization of what's happening dawn in your eyes. Then, you slap him.

“Big mistake, kid.” Two slaps, one after the other in quick succession, are delivered to your sweet face, letting you know that however you fight, you’ll be punished. “Won’t help yuh to fight, sweetcheeks, only gonna make it worse.” He watches the tears well up in your eyes, your pretty lip quivering, but you don’t fight. You give in. He chuckles. “Well that was easy.”

Logan spreads your legs, grinding his clothed erection over your white underwear, making you whimper. “P-please don’t… I’m sorry, I-I I don’t-”

“Shhhhh, princess…” Logan wipes a tear from your face, nuzzling his beard against your neck. “Just be good for me, this will all be over soon, okay? But be that sweet girl I know you are.”

A dizzy, tired ‘okay’ and Logan leaned back to undo his pants where his crisp white shirt was tucked in. As expected, you simply stayed laid back and didn’t fight or try to get away. Such a good girl. “Take your panties off for me.”

You shake your head. “Don’t make me…”

All he had to do was narrow his eyes at you and you were scrambling to do as he said, making you complicite. 

“See? I knew you wanted this.”

Sliding into you was heaven, feeling you clench around him in fear, the tension of your body manifesting in squeezing him cock even as you got wet around him. He was your first, he knew that. Inside himself, he knew that, even if you hadn’t said. Because of course you hadn’t? Who would share that with her driver?

“Fuck princess, look at you…” Logan grunted as he began to thrust, watching your tits in that braless dress bounce. “Taking this old man cock so good, aren’t’cha? Yeah, just look at you…” He grabbed your hair harshly, yanking you up so you were bent over. You scream in pain, but quickly quiet yourself with little sobs instead as he forces you to watch him violating you, entering and withdrawing and entering again until he lets go, letting you flop back once more.

Logan’s cock slams inside you, and Logan bets you can feel him inside you, feel him prodigy at your womb, ready to be bred like a good girl like your deserves. 

“Are you on birth control?”

“Y-yes” You cry, covering your face in embarrassment. Are you lying? No, no he can see the little rod in your arm. He grab your tender flesh, and you cry out briefly again as he feels the stupid fucking implant in you, thumbing over it as he growls in frustration. He wanted to get you knocked up, make sure you were the stupid girl who got herself pregnant after he ditched town, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

He gropes your tits through the dress, slapping at the side to make you yelp before moving on downward. You were awfully wet for someone who was crying. 

“Poor girl… is the mean old man taking your virginity? I know, I know, I’m the worst.” He swirls a finger over your slicked up clit, making your body jolt. “Fuck, such a sensative girl around you. Been years since I fucked someone so sweet and innocent, you’re -fuuuuuck, princess- you’re every dirty old man’s dream, you know that?”

He felt your cunt tighten at that, and he barks a laugh. “Ha! Don’t think I didn’t feel that, sweet cheeks. That make you hot? You like knowing old creeps think of our naked body while fisting their cocks?”

You cover your face. “No!”

“Princess, don’t fucking lie to me. Come on.” Logan touched your body, knowing he could bring you pleasure, wanting to feel your first orgasm gushing on his cock. “Give it to me, come on this old man cock, be the dirty whore I know you wanna be.” 

Your cry into your hands as your body betrays you, orgasming hard enough it pulled his own climax out of him. Even though he knew you wouldn’t get pregnant, Logan loved knowing that he was pumping load after load of his hot seed into your virgin pussy, knowing it would leak out of your for days. Morning after morning you wake up to his cum sliding out of your, reminding you that you’re nothing but a dirty old man's whore.

The whole ride to your penthouse, you laid in the back of the car, never moving from where he left you. When Logan pulled up to the building, he put his arm on the other backrest, looking down at you. “You tell anyone about this,” He let his claws fly out of his fisted hand. You could only flinch, your eyes drooping heavily. “I’ll end you, and whoever you tell. Got it?” Logan waits until you nod. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my car.”

Later…

You lay in bed, staring at your phone though the tears in your eyes. A shower couldn’t wash off the feeling of him in and on you, so you just gave up, stumbling into bed with your most comfortable clothes.

Your screen showed a message your forgot to respond to before getting drunk.

Remy Boo <3: Bon soir, cher. Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe.

 You couldn’t tell him. Logan said he’d kill you and whoever you told… but if you didn’t respond, Remy would pull up to the penthouse and check on you. You did give him a key, and you owed him a response. He was your boyfriend, after all.

You: I’m home!!!! Had a great night with the girls. Im tired. Ttyl.

*************

Thanks so so so much for reading!!!! I might do a part 2 IDK. I kinda wanna see remy finding out what happened and that it was logan of all people.

If you like dark logan, check out my masterlist!

Our Gentle Sins is my logan series rn! I also wrote a lot of joel miller if thats your thing!!!!

Every single like, reblog, and comment means the world o me!

if you want to be tagged in my dark logan, check out my tag list!

If you want more logan bt not dark, check out @romanarose for my normal stuff.

@del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @oldloganslittleslut @shybluebirdninja @hornystan

[sebscore]

heyy! Got a request! So all the drivers are in this fancy yacht in Monaco promoting F1/race. It's black tie event. Our fem! F1 driver comes in wearing gorgeous dress. And I just want everyone's reaction. I think it will be interesting since the fem! F1 driver usually is in F1 overalls/merch. Thank you!

MISS LITTLE BLACK DRESS

pairing: (most of the) f1 grid x reader (including some retired drivers)

warnings: mentions of the fia. a drunk nando at the end lol.

author's note: thank you so much for the request! this was genuinely so fun to write, i'm sorry that i didn't include the entire grid, but for some people i just genuinely didn't know how they would react or i didn't want the reactions to become repetitive. let me know what you thought of it! 💖

• • • • • • •

''Who's that?'' Lando asked Charles and Charlotte, his eyes not leaving the backside of the woman who had just entered the yacht. The question caught the attention of the other people seated on the long couch. George, Carmen, Alex, Lily, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos and Isa followed Lando's eyes.

It was quite hard to recognize her since her face wasn't visible as she talked to Toto, Mattia and Susie. ''Maybe someone from the FIA or something?'' George concluded, taking a wild guess.

''I love her dress, it's so cute.'' Lily whispered to Carmen, admiring the way it hugged the woman's body perfectly. ''I know, it's sexy, but also elegant in a way.''

''Lando, you should go up to her.'' Pierre encouraged him, taking in the way the Brit was eyeing her up and down.

Alex and Charles agreed. ''Yeah, make it a bit fun for us here! This event isn't gonna get any better than this.'' Alex said, the black-tie event was organized by the FIA and those guys weren't exactly known for their fun parties.

''You sure?'' Lando hesitated, the man was newly single and it had been a while since he had approached someone in that kind of a manner. The group cheered him on, wanting to see their friend take some action and move on from his previous relationship. ''What do I even say?''

The question was more directed at the women. ''Compliment her dress, Lando.'' Isa advised him, knowing she would appreciate it. He nodded at her words, repeating the words in his head.

''Yeah, okay- anything else?'' He asked them.

''Just let the conversation flow from there, it'll be okay.'' Carmen assured the younger guy, seeing how he started to get nervous.

Lando got up from his seat, breathing in and out. ''Here we go.'' He took a swig from his beer for some encouragement and made his way over while the rest of the group watched in anticipation.

''Hi, everyone.'' He greeted the team principals and Susie with a smile, before his eyes fell on the reason he was there. The smile was smacked from his face and was replaced by an expression of disbelief.

''Y/N?''

''Hey, Lando.'' She greeted him back, taking notice of his face that she had a hard time reading. ''What's up?''

The McLaren driver was stunned. The woman was Y/N, he had been checking out the woman he had known since the two of them were kids. In his defense, a long time had passed when he last saw her in anything that wasn't oversized or racing related.

''Nothing, just, uh, wanted to come and say hi,'' he managed to stutter out, ''the rest of us are sitting here, if you'd like to join us.'' He motioned towards the entire group that sat with open mouths as Y/N turned around. They quickly covered their surprise up and waved at her, sending her uneasy smiles.

The unaware driver smiled back at them. ''Yeah, I'll join you guys in a minute.'' She wrapped up the conversation with him, growing uncomfortable with Lando's unsubtle stare.

''Great, see you all later.''

Lando quickly bid them goodbye and was ready to crawl into a hole, feeling humiliated and confused all at the same time. He sat back down on his original spot, avoiding eye-contact with everyone.

''That's Y/N? You were gonna flirt with Y/N.'' Carlos stated in disbelief himself, that he hadn't recognized her before. ''That's crazy.''

''I've never seen her like that, she looks good!'' Charlotte was impressed the way the woman could pull off her duality like that, she looked completely different than she did when Charlotte ran into her on the paddock.

The rest of the girls agreed. ''I'm gonna ask her where she got that dress from, I need that in my closet.'' Lily couldn't stop thinking about the little black dress the woman was wearing.

Meanwhile, the boys watched Lando in amusement as he went through all the five stages of grief. ''Lando, man… I'm sorry, I guess.'' Pierre chuckled, covering his huge grin with his hand.

''Yeah, better luck next time.'' Alex said, trying to not burst out laughing at the situation.

Yuki just observed everyone in confusion, not understanding the big fuss they were making about this. ''Lando, you like Y/N?'' The Japanese man had to start paying more attention to the conversation instead of munching on all the appetizers that were spread out on the table in front of them.

''No, Yuki! I didn't know it was her.'' He exclaimed, getting defensive about the entire thing.

The Alpha Tauri driver simply nodded, not caring much either way.

''I think you guys would be cute, a childhood friends to lovers kinda thing.'' Lily teased, trying to make him feel better about it.

Well, she failed. ''No! She's like- Ugh, just no!'' Lando didn't even want to think about it, him and Y/N was just… no.

''You're getting weirdly defensive about this, Lando.'' Charles teasingly noted.

''And you DNF'd this weekend, we all have our problems.''

''Is that Y/N? Oh, look at her.'' The woman caught the eyes of Sebastian, Lewis, Jenson, Mark and Vallterri. She must have sensed their eyes on her as she turned around and made her way over to them, a big smile on her face.

They made some space so she could sit in-between Seb and Jenson. ''We were starting to wonder where you were, our party animal.'' Jenson teased her. The female driver was quite known for never passing the oppurtunity to celebrate something.

''I've been here for a while actually, but Rosberg caught me when I was ordering something at the bar and well- you know when Nico starts talking.'' She explained her absence, recalling the man going on about whatever Nico Rosberg goes on about.

The five men chuckled, knowing how the man could get. ''That Britney, never gets old.''

''I almost didn't recognize you without the usual racing suit.'' Lewis noted, he had to take several looks before being sure that it was in fact her.

Y/N glanced down at her dress. ''Yeah, I was actually gonna go to a club with my friends, but then my team told me this was kinda mandatory, so that sucked.''

''I think we all would rather be at a club right now.'' Mark said, sighing loudly. A party on a yacht was really hard to make boring, but the FIA had obviously done their best to just do that.

''I just came for the free alcohol.'' Vallterri spoke up for the first time, having everyone agree with him.

The conversation split up from there. Jenson and Mark teasing each other about things they had said on live air, and the former Mercedes teammates catching up with each other.

That left Y/N and Seb, the latter nudging her shoulder. ''You look really pretty, Y/N.'' She was touched by the genuineness in his voice. ''Thanks, Seb.''

''Hey, Y/N.'' She moved around and saw a pretty drunk Fernando approaching them. ''Your dress is a bop or whatever you call it.''

''No, Nando… that's not- oh whatever, thank you!''

[passengerprincessblog]

“Lewis, Next Door”~ pt 1 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: age gap, alcohol?

Summary: Coming home from university, Y/N expects a quiet reunion with family—until she finds herself face-to-face with the enigmatic Lewis Hamilton, her dad’s famous neighbor and friend. What starts as a dull evening soon turns unexpectedly electric when Lewis offers more than just small talk.

I hadn’t been home all semester. Between studying, late-night group projects, and the occasional breakdown, the past few months at uni had been… a lot. I’d pushed through, and even though I’d missed my parents, there was something about finishing this term that made me feel a little invincible. I was finally here, though, bags slung over my shoulder as I hugged my mom in the doorway and let my dad ruffle my hair in that way he always did.

Home sweet home.

After the greetings and settling in, I noticed someone else was around. Our neighbor, Lewis Hamilton, was back too. Usually, he was off racing, so it was a rare sight. I wasn’t someone who followed F1 religiously, but I knew Lewis was a big deal—and the whole “dad’s friend” thing only made it more surreal. The few times we’d run into each other, I’d been struck by how effortlessly confident he was. Attractive? Absolutely. Intimidating? Without a doubt. But, honestly, I’d never thought much beyond that. He was just Lewis, the neighbor.

That night, my dad was throwing a big party to celebrate his latest product launch. Fancy guests, fancy decorations, fancy everything—the whole nine yards. I’d barely unpacked, and here I was, getting ready to play dress-up and smile politely for a parade of strangers. My friends were out clubbing tonight, living it up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. But I loved my dad, so here I was, hair styled, makeup on point, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life for the night.

As the party got into full swing, I did my best to stay interested, though I kept glancing at my phone, imagining my friends dancing somewhere with loud music and neon lights. Instead, I was here, weaving through clusters of my dad’s colleagues. He was chatting with a group of important-looking men, so I took my chance and approached him, feeling like a little kid again as I asked, “Can I please just have one drink?”

He shot me a disapproving look. “No. You know the answer.”

“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to let my frustration show. I wandered around a bit, catching snippets of adult conversation that were all about business deals and tax write-offs. Glamorous.

Finally, I spotted a lonely champagne glass on a table. I glanced around, and with a little thrill of rebellion, I picked it up, taking a sip. It was cold and crisp, and even though I’d never been a huge fan of champagne, it felt like a tiny slice of freedom. A few more sips, and I was actually starting to relax.

That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there he was—Lewis, giving me a knowing smile.

“I see you like my drink?” he teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

My stomach dropped. Oh god, I’d taken his champagne? “Oh my god. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know… I can get you a new one if you want, I just—”

He chuckled, shaking his head. His laugh was low and warm, and something about it made me relax, just a bit. “Nah, I’m messing with you. It’s fine. I don’t even really drink anyways.” He grinned, flashing a glimpse of a gold grill that made him look both mischievous and effortless, a vibe that seemed distinctly Lewis.

I managed a shy nod, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands. “Oh… good. Thanks.” I couldn’t believe I was so nervous. But he just kept looking at me, his gaze both curious and relaxed.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You bored? I’m so bored. No offense to your dad, of course.”

I let out a laugh, surprised at how blunt he was. “It’s boring,” I admitted, feeling a little guilty, but somehow knowing he understood. He had this whole wild, glamorous life, and a party like this was probably as dull as watching paint dry for him.

“So, what? You’re back from uni, huh? That’s crazy. I remember when you were like, ten,” he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

I feel my cheeks heat up with a pang of embarrassment. Here I was, feeling all cool and grown up, and he still saw me as a kid. Great.

“Yep,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light but failing to hide the faint annoyance.

“Well, you’re better than me,” he shrugs. “I never finished school.” I glance at him, surprised he’s trying to keep this conversation going. Usually, we barely exchanged two words, and now, here we were, alone, talking like… friends? Something more? I didn’t know.

“Well… yeah, but you’re a millionaire,” I say, trying to sound casual, though there’s a little hint of playfulness in my voice. I’m not exactly flirting, but maybe a little. Just testing the waters.

He raises an eyebrow, smiling at me but seeming almost uncomfortable at the mention of his money. He shrugs again. “You’re not exactly struggling either,” he teases back.

Was… that a flirt? Or was I just imagining it? It’s just the way he said it, the way his gaze lingers a moment longer than it should. My pulse quickens, but I try to play it cool.

“No… not exactly,” I say, catching his hint and matching his tone. I glance around, making a point about how dull this party is. “Just right now.”

He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe next time, you come to one of my parties,” he says. It sounds more like a command than an invitation, like he’s decided I’ll be there.

I nod softly, trying to hide the thrill in my expression. He’s really inviting me? He seems amused, almost as if my reaction is endearing.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say with a slight shrug, finishing off the champagne. I feel his eyes on me, and when I look up, he’s studying me, like he’s considering something.

Then he breaks into a grin. “I could give you my number,” he says, casual but direct.

I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the excitement bubbling up. “Oh?”

“So you can tell me next time you’re bored,” he adds, giving me a cheeky wink.

I feel my cheeks flush as I pull out my phone. He takes it from me, putting his number in. My hands are shaking just a bit when he hands it back.

“There,” he says with that familiar grin. “Now you’ll be set.”

“Cool. Thanks,” I say, somehow managing to keep my voice steady. Inside, though, I feel my heart racing.

He glances back at the party, then back at me, giving me one last wink. “I should probably go talk to your dad. See you around, Y/N.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there, still holding the empty champagne glass, my mind spinning. His number. His number. A part of me feels like I’m floating.

———————————

Oo La La 🙈

Lmk of you like?!!??

Like and follow 💜

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Nothing official, right? (Part IV)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, wild cat!reader, mentions of sexual activity, soft!Bruce to you, you like to gently bully Bruce.

You knew that even if you had told Bruce that you wanted nothing serious, your relationship was actually shifting to something a lot more official.

Everyone was gossiping about the fact that the rich playboy of Gotham seemed to be only spending time with one girl lately. And you were pretty certain that indeed Bruce hadn’t had any kind of romantic or sexual relationship apart from you. You hadn’t either because no one really interested you. It didn’t mean you wanted to be “his” girlfriend.

You were still worried you would lose your credibility now everyone knew Bruce was seeing you. After all, the “son of Gotham” was always followed by paparazzi and you couldn’t hide your relationship forever.

At first, you heard whispers around you; you were just another girl to fall for Bruce. But you kept writing articles about the elite of Gotham and you kept pointing things out. When something was about WE, you simply informed Bruce you were going to publish an article about his enterprises. You kept doing your work. And the man never stopped you from doing so, because he loved that about you. You were ruthless to him, and he was finding it way too attractive for his own good.

The whispers quietened down.

Bruce took advantage of the situation by freely gifting you absolutely gorgeous dresses and jewels, without having to worry about “bribing” you anymore. He was inviting you to his favourite restaurants as well. 

But he was also eager to follow you to little cinemas and places you enjoyed and in which you were more at ease. You always ended up in a hotel room or at your place. You didn’t necessarily have sex, even if he often ended on his knees and in between your legs. At least until Batman was called for duty by Gordon or his kids (he made sure to finish you off before running away). 

After his missions, he almost always came back to you, and you always took care of his wounds and bruises. You were his safe place. His haven.

You never asked questions about what happened. You knew who he was and it was enough for you. You also knew Gotham’s media would soon enough talk about the last adventures of Batman. He was grateful you never interrogated him because he could forget about work when he was with you. 

His children, Alfred and even the Justice League noticed how his mood changed lately. Of course, he was still a grumpy bear but some of his usual anger and despair seemed to have died down. He was more relaxed and even more open to discussion. After all, when he was with you, and that you thought Bruce or Batman should have been better, you always let him know without sugarcoating it. He appreciated it even if it was quite a humbling down experience for him as well. More than once he hinted that he would love to have you working at Wayne Enterprises by his side, but you didn’t want to date someone who would also be your boss. Bruce didn’t answer back that if you were getting married one day, he could easily make you co-CEO.

After a few more weeks, Alfred told Bruce that maybe you could come over to the manor. Bruce hadn’t brought you at first because he knew you would have felt uneasy and judgemental there. And then, he wasn’t too sure he wanted you to meet his family. He had no idea how his children would react to you. 

And even if he loved them, he didn’t want anything to ruin your current relationship. Especially now it was getting obvious to everyone that you weren’t a one night stand, you weren’t just a girl Bruce fancied, you weren’t just some fun for a little while. It was obvious that Bruce Wayne was falling in love. Hard. 

And everyone was whispering about it behind his back, sometimes teasing even him right in front of him (but his deathly stares always made them shut up).

More importantly, everyone was curious about you. 

Of course the children easily found you and followed you around to discover who you were. They hated to admit it but you did seem like the perfect match for both Bruce and Batman. You were fearless, you were intelligent and kind. You were a true detective yourself.

They learnt about your past. They felt like you could understand them too. You knew poverty, you knew violence, you grew up with bad people surrounding you, and yet you decided to be a good person. You decided to stay and to fight for Gotham, even though you could have ran away. And they loved to read your merciless articles about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises. Of course, you calmed down once you started this relationship, but gosh they found some pretty good punchlines they loved to use against their mentor.

During the day, Bruce called you and offered to eat at the manor for once. You understood it meant that your relationship was getting even more serious than you thought, which worried you a little bit. It wasn’t your fault if you were a wild cat. You asked if he was going to introduce you to his family and he laughed.

“I didn’t have time to tell them how to behave around you, so not this time, love. Just you and me.”

“To behave around me?” you asked

“I’ve never presented anyone to them before. Not officially at least.” he explained

“But you want me to meet them?” you hummed

“They ask a lot of questions about you, and they love your articles, so I’ll guess at some point we’ll have to.” Bruce replied

“Sounds good to me… I just need to get ready for meeting all of them. You really need to stop adopting children, Bruce” you teased

“Can’t promise anything” Bruce admitted and you groaned

Unfortunately, the night you were supposed to eat and sleep at the manor was a very busy night for Batman. Alfred was kind enough to start chatting with you. He finally sat down next to you as you both enjoyed some tea while waiting for Bruce. You went along quite well and Alfred went to bed that night, very grateful for whoever sent you on his master Bruce’s path. You were some fresh air in the manor.

It was late in the night when Batman, Nightwing and Red Robin went back home.

Dick and Tim absolutely wanted to greet you and they sneaked into the dinning room as Bruce was quickly showering and taking care of his wounds. Tim was observing you with interest as Dick was being his charming self.

“So you’re the girl” Dick said

“People generally call me Y/N” you replied with a raised eyebrow and Tim chuckled

“Haven’t you read what she wrote about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises, Dick? Be careful, she might kill you with her words” he teased and you laughed

“Do you still stand by what you said despite the fact you are now dating Bruce?” Dick asked with a tilt of the head

“Oh yeah, Bruce is still a rich traumatised guy with a saviour complex, who adopts too many kids each year. The Brucie persona is complete bullshit and I still roll my eyes when I hear him use that voice” you nodded

“That voice?” Tim asked

“The “I’m the good son of Gotham so let me help you” voice” you replied with a roll of your eyes “Gosh, what an actor” you added and both the boys started laughing.

They instantly liked you.

“Why are you with him then?” Dick asked and you hummed in thought

“Despite everything, it seems that Bruce is actually… likeable and interesting”

“You seem disappointed?” Tim commented

“In myself? Yes, very much. In Bruce, well I’ll give him some time” you winked

The boys laughed again but they hoped Bruce wouldn’t actually disappoint you. You were such normalcy, fun and happiness in the man’s life. They were certain you could bring a lot of joy in the family too.

They knew you cared about him a lot more than you were saying when they saw how you got up and checked on Bruce when he entered the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late… Well I guess you were doing well without me” Bruce arched an eyebrow at the four of you; Dick, Tim and Alfred were smiling.

“Oh yes, I was just speaking ill of you, hon” you teased “All good?” you asked and he nodded

“Always when you’re around” he whispered to you before kissing you. 

It was the cue for everyone to leave the two of you alone. Bruce and you forgot about everyone else anyways.

--

PART 5

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

[toxictigertonic]

Happy Halloween!! I was going to post this earlier today, but the past two weeks have been wack so I'm writing this the day of lol.

COYLE

- Hates Halloween bc crime increases Halloween night and he's sick of dealing with property damage calls. Though, he does like enforcing the law, so he does get a little enjoyment out if it.

- He'd walk into a Halloween party for a noise complaint and get mistaken for a male stripper 😔

- Finds people dressing up as a cop insulting. Little kids could get away with it, but adults? That's impersonating an officer, bucko!

- If someone asked if he was dressed as a cop he'd actually lose his shit and get into a screaming match with them. The disrespect!

- Not the biggest fan of candy, but he'd be the guy that actually enjoys candy corn. The monster /j

- A little old lady would offer him candy and he'd accept it with a smile, then immediately try to pass it off to someone else.

- He would NOT pass out candy. Fucker hands out apples and shit bc he likes to see the disappointment in children's eyes.

- Says some absolutely WILD shit to anyone in a sexy costume. Man or woman, doesn't matter, he's pointing out how you look in a very uncomfortable way.

- Kids would manage to prank his ass and handcuff him to something for the rest of the night. Good luck responding to calls, jackass.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- She loves Halloween, Futterman hates it with a passion for obvious reasons.

- She's cooing over the children's costumes. She'd give extra cute outfits extra candy (if Futterman let her hand out candy)

- Futterman makes her hand out apples and floss and toothbrushes and she feels a little bad seeing the children get sad. The babies deserve a little treat :(

- She'd secretly hide a piece of candy under the apple and dump it into the kid's hand with a not so secret wink.

- Futterman lectures small children who have big bags of candy and makes them cry. You're gonna get cavities!!

- In particular, if he sees taffy or candy corn or anything that's pure sticky sugar he loses his fucking mind. Screaming about plaque and tartar while the kids run away.

- Gooseberry is dressed up as a big friendly witch! Her pointy hat and heeled boots make her even taller and the children are in awe of this big friend. Futterman is her familiar. He's not impressed.

- If Futterman had a choice he'd be a weregoose. He's frightening children in more ways than one.

- I can guarantee she didn't get to go trick or treating as a kid. She should be allowed to trick or treat as an adult without Futterman giving her shit.

FRANCO

- Another child who didn't get to go trick or treating. Got to see other children receive candy but his dad 1. Didn't care enough to take him trick or treating, and 2. Knew it was far too dangerous to be out and about with his status as mob boss.

- This translates to a desperate need for him to go trick or treating. But, he'd be really iffy on wearing a costume. On one hand, he wants to really experience what he missed out on! On the other hand, he feels like he'd be mocked and that he doesn't need a costume, he just deserves candy.

- A little old lady would pinch his cheek and call his costume cute and he wouldn't be sure if he should cry or get pissed off.

- The amount of candy this man would devour would be terrifying for anyone to witness. Candy after candy, chocolate after chocolate, his tummy would hurt so bad by the end.

- He's NOT picky, either. Have a candy you don't like? Pass it to him, he'll scarf it down without even thinking about it. A couple of the sticky ones make his teeth hurt, though.

- The sugar crash afterwards would be legendary. He's face down on the carpet, half dead, shaking from the low blood sugar, with a puddle of drool under him. Someone clean him up and put him to bed.

- Costume wise, I can either see him going as an imp (the poster and bc he's my evil little guy) OR a unicorn bc of the line he has with Coyle. Pacifier comes with both outfits whether you like it or not.

- If you offer him some shit like popcorn balls or non candy when he comes to your door (or point out that he's an adult), he's pulling out Lupara. Don't test him, he's rabid.

- He'd be so excited if he could go trick or treating with Gooseberry. He'd hold her hand and feel like the most special little guy. One hand in hers, one hand on his pumpkin pail, paci in his mouth, he's happy as can be.

I love Halloween so much, everyone have a great night and enjoy some candy and the Geister event!

@thehalloweenspooks @millie-milkshake (thank you both for asking teehee)

[hughiecampbelle]

Gen V Preference: What They're Attracted To

Requested: what type of person do you think the gen v characters would be attracted to? or like what do u think they look for in a partner? thank you! - anon

A/N: I absolutely loved thinking about this my love!!! Thank you for requesting!! Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Luke values kindness. Nothing irritates him more than fake kindness. When people put on a show knowing that's what he's looking for. He can tell when it's genuine by the way you treat others. Not just friends or partners or acquaintances, but waiters and waitresses, cashiers, kids, animals, bugs, everything, and everyone. He spoons when someone gets up to give someone their seat on the bus or is eager to apologize when they know they're in the wrong. Something about it makes his heart melt. He instantly feels safe in their presence, knowing they're a genuinely kind, caring, and considerate person. It goes a long way in his book. He's always telling you how sweet you are and how much he appreciates it about you.

Jordan loves a competitive nature. It drives them wild, knowing you and them can compete in just about anything and everything you do. From grades to ranks to who can finish a milkshake the fastest without getting brain freeze or who can get the most numbers at the bar. When they see your features turn from silly to driven, they get butterflies in their stomach. Not just with them, but when you're training in the arena and you from joking around to being serious, they melt. Their own competitive nature has scared away past partners. They know it can be off-putting to some. Not you. You love it. Friendly competition never hurt anyone. There's nothing sexier than being pi against one another and not to get too NSFW, it definitely translates in the bedroom as well.

Andre loves confidence. Nothing drives him more wild than someone who knows they're all that and isn't afraid to say so. Whether it's knowing you're powerful because of your Supe abilities to sensing your intelligence in the classroom or knowing you're hot when you're dressed up to go the club, it makes him weak in the knees. Not only does it get his attention, but everyone else around you. Knowing you're with him, but getting all these interested looks and people's numbers, makes him feel so secure in your relationship. It's so hot when you walk into a room and everyone looks at you like they'd do anything to be yours. Something about it brings a smile to his face. He gets butterflies in his stomach when you show off, smile on your face because you know you're the best and you're not afraid of it.

Cate likes style. It doesn't have to be her particular style. She just loves when someone takes pride in their looks and isn't afraid to be a little out there. She has nothing against going to class in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but it does catch her eye when you're pulled together, ready for a fashion shoe or the runway rather than Crime and Statistics. She loves playing dress up with someone too, going through their closet and putting together outfits they never would have thought of. She expects her person to show up for date night looking 10/10. Looking like the fashion icons that you are. She loves when they don't care about what others think in terms of fashion. If someone makes a comment about them being overdressed, nothing is sexier than when they shrug it off or come back with a witty comment about being too fashionable for them.

Marie loves it when someone has quick wits. She wants to back forth with someone. Sometimes, people can find the sarcasm off-putting or weird, but she's such a big fan. The more sarcastic, the better. She's always murmuring funny, slightly inappropriate things under her breath. The fact that someone not only hears her, catching her in the act when others don't pay as close attention, but has something to say that's equally inappropriate back makes her melt. She gets all flustered, of course, trying her hardest not to show just how much she likes it, but everyone can tell. She's the only one who finds it funny or witty when you stay stuff that could aggravate others, but it's worth it to hear her laugh. Your friends can roll their eyes as much as they want, you do it for Marie and no one else.

Emma loves a sense of humor. If she can't joke around with you, she's not interested. Especially if you can't go along with the bit. She usually goes too far with the bit to the point that it's not funny anymore, but she doesn't care. She laughs from it, and that's what matters. She thinks she's hilarious, so if someone she's interested in doesn't laugh at her jokes, she immediately loses feelings. If you can't laugh with her at the dumbest things until there are tears running down your cheeks and your stomach hurts, she doesn't want you. She loves it when others are funny, too. Cracking jokes at the worst moments is the best way to steal her heart. If you can't take a joke about yourself shes not interested either. She grew up being the butt of the joke with her mother. She learned to laugh it off and expects it from others.

Sam really loves intelligence. Something about someone knowing a lot about a particular subject makes him smile his goofy smile. He could listen to you talk all day about things he has no interest in or knowledge of. When you talk with all that passion, it's the best thing he's ever heard. He loves asking questions, knowing you not only know the answer but as equally as excited to share. He's constantly in awe about your mind, the fact that you know so much and articulate it so well. It gives him butterflies, knowing he can ask you a question about anything, and you've got a pretty good idea about what you're talking about. It doesn't have to be traditional intelligence. It can be about anything. Just knowing all this blows his mind. He can't believe someone as smart as you would want to be with him.

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

(hi chat. i wrote a fic about oli cameo-ing in wild life. it’s about 1k words. lizzie jimmy and scar are in it. it gets a little sad. i hope you enjoy it)

Oli snickered at the absolutely dumbfounded expression currently being given to him by none other than Jimmy Solidarity.

“Hiya Tim. Did you miss me?”

Jimmy continued to stare with his jaw halfway to the void. “What- you- you’re not- how are you here?”

Oli just grins, sitting back and crossing his legs with what he hopes is an annoyingly smug expression. Judging by the way Jimmy’s eyes flash, it’s working.

“I’m just that special. Being practically god and all, I thought I should pay a visit to my sweet sweet boy.” Oli waves a hand, tilting his head. Jimmy looks cute when he’s confused.

“Does Grian know you’re here?”

Oli grins. “Who do you think invited me?”

If Jimmy wasn’t in shock before, he certainly is now. “Grian. Brought you. Here. To his death games.”

Oli swings his legs absently. “Someone had to write a song for that little trivia bot. 2 of them, actually. In one day. Not sure how I pulled that one off, not to mention the snails.”

Jimmy dissolves into a fit of nonsensical babbling, and Oli can’t help but it burst into laughter again. While Jimmy processes this, Oli decides it’s about time he takes a look around. He hops off the block he’s sitting on, spinning around slowly to take in Jim’s base.

It’s cutesy, he decides, and almost painfully familiar. The cherry theming, the hilltop location, the giant animal statues. It always comes back to death and canaries, somehow. Oli can’t figure out how Jimmy keeps getting away with this. He walks slowly, dramatically sweeping around to take everything in. Listening to cherry petals shift under his feet and trying to drown out the phantom sound of explosions in his head. Jimmy has stopped talking, and is staring at him as he wanders. Oli flashes him a smile. Jim just looks apprehensive.

Oli doesn’t blame him. He’s not supposed to be here, even by Grian’s standards. And mathematically, Oli has an infinite amount of kills per death games he’s been in. He’s not a player, and as such he can’t die. He’s immune to Grian’s wildcards and rules. He’s practically a god, in a way, which is not really something he’s ever experienced. It would be more fun if he was allowed to stay. Maybe he can write another song.

Deciding there isn’t much more to look at, Oli turns fully to Jimmy. It’s uncomfortably quiet. Oli is about to make another quip when the silence is broken.

“Oli? What on earth are you doing here?”

If Oli thought seeing Jimmy messed with his head, hearing Lizzie calling out for him is like a shot to the brain. Even so, he can’t help but smile as he turns around to meet her.

“Lizzie!”

She runs up the hill towards him, slightly out of breath, transparent wings twitching in an all too familiar way. She pauses a few paces away, shooting him a grin.

“I knew those stupid snails sounded familiar. Joel recognized you first. How did you even get here?”

Pretending the mention of Joel doesn’t make him want to explode, Oli just shrugs. “Grian invited me. Voiced some snails, made some songs, and thought I’d come by and cause problems before he kicks me out again.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t.”

“Well, I am technically God now, so…”

“Is that right.” Smoothing out her dress, Lizzie moves closer, forming a small triangle with the three of them. Jimmy still looks befuddled and Lizzie has that same mischievous glint in her eyes she always does, and Oli is suddenly very homesick. Is that even the right word? Home is where the heart is, or something.

“Yep! 100%, genuine, certified, bona fide God. Can’t die, and my snails wreaked havoc like none other.”

“You’ve got me there.”

“So,” Oli claps his hands together. “This is your guys’s base? Very cherry-esque. Draw inspiration from anyone?”

Lizzie puts her hands on her hips. “Hey! Pink has been my thing since we were kids. Cherry biomes were made for me. I’ve been making cherry wood houses since before your stupid hog.”

“How dare you!” Oli gasps, putting a hand over his chest. “My hog was not stupid, he was magnificent. And pink was my thing too! I had pink hair for a while there, remember?”

“Yeah, cause of me! I’m the only reason you dye your hair at all! And besides, you don’t even die it pink anymore after-”

Lizzie cuts herself off suddenly, eyes wide, and Oli freezes in place. Jimmy looks taken aback by the sudden tension, looking nervously between the two of them.

After what feels like years, Oli exhales. “… Yeah. Alright. Pink is your thing.”

“Oli…”

Oli turns around suddenly, walking purposefully towards the large birds marking the front of their base. He adjusts the little green halo floating just above his hair, which is notably not pink. “These are cute.”

Lizzie, forever hyperaware of Oli’s incessant need to avoid his problems, just sighs. “Aren’t they?”

And just like that, it never even happened. Jimmy eventually realizes he’s never getting any answers, and joins in the banter, helping Lizzie take Oli on an official tour of their base. Eventually Scar returns, resulting in a 20 minute long argument that ends with Lizzie half dragging Oli down the hill and towards the cave BAM has claimed as their own. Lizzie bitterly shows him where her snail first made an attempt on her life, and Oli’s apology is ruined by the fact that he can’t stop snickering.

Eventually Lizzie drags him back up to the surface, and all too fast for Oli’s liking it’s nightfall. Scar unhelpfully comments that they’ll need their sleep to deal with whatever horrors will happen next session, and that Grian will probably be on Oli’s case soon.

Reluctantly, Oli says his goodbyes. And if he hugs Lizzie just a little too long, she doesn’t comment on it. And if his heart isn’t quite in the jokes he makes at Jimmy’s expense, no one says anything.

He doesn’t really know where he’s going. He’s not entirely sure how he got there at all, to be honest. He supposes he’ll have to track down Grian and ask. He doesn’t want to leave, he’s getting awfully tired of finally finding his friends just to lose them again.

Maybe Grian will add him to the next season.

[crazylittlejester]

im in such a yapping mood today and i feel like ive made a post like this before but this is how i personally think the Links would dress in a modern era

Time: in a casual setting I know he wears the dark jeans + black band shirt combo and sometimes he’ll tie his hair up if he gets hot. it’s not an intentional fashion statement, he’s not trying to dress a certain way on purpose by any means he just dresses like a guy who plays guitars but says its “just a hobby” (he owns at least three.) and its just the shirt and the pants, there are no accessories, he’s just your father who hasn’t listened to new music or gone clothes shopping since the 80s (/j) but he can absolutely clean up nice and looks good when he needs to

Warriors: Possibly the sluttiest thing a man can wear (/j) is a cardigan sweater and he owns like. 12 of them. and generally just a lot of very nice sweaters, and there are a lot of dark grays and blues in his closet with the occasional green. he always dresses his best, he wouldn’t be caught dead leaving his house in like, a t shirt and jeans. whether or not he’s actually wealthy, he certainly dresses like he is, he pours all of his money into high quality coats and scarves and nice shoes

Twilight: Dean Winchester. Next. (but seriously, the jeans, boots, plain gray shirt and a flannel is EXACTLY how he’d dress)

Sky: Whatever he’s got on, he looks so fucking comfortable. Definitely big fluffy sweaters, I know he’s a guy who likes to be snug and cozy because why face the horrors of the world without feeling like your sweater is giving you a mom hug? I can see him in a lot of white, ivory, orange, brown, and green. Not super bright colors, he definitely has a sort of fall vibed color pallet and sense of style

Hyrule: He’s the personification of those “forest core” outfit collage boards you see on pintrest but he’s not just doing it for aesthetic, it’s all functional. Like he has a little bag he keeps tied to his belt because he goes out and hunts for berries or mushrooms in the woods. he has a leather bound journal that also clips to the belt because he likes writing about what he finds in the woods. He’s your friend who calls you after going missing for four hours like “hey can you come pick me up?” and when you get to his location he’s covered in dirt and says “i got lost…”

Legend: his EXACT style varies quite a bit, but he’d define it as alt. he wears skirts a lot, not all the time but a lot, and has a lot of layers and jewelry. he definitely will go on pissed off rants about how he got bullied for his clothes in middle school and high school and he’s mad that now people are dressing alt because they think its “quirky” and buying things like bags or pants with patches and pins already on them, and he will rant about this twice a week. hes sick and tired of getting called emo not because hes against being emo, it just seriously annoys him when people see someone with dyed hair wearing dark clothes and call them emo based on that alone

Wild: It depends on the days activities, but he likes to look cute. Lots of pretty hairstyles and earrings, bright colors too. DEFINITELY A BIG PANTS LITTLE SHIRT KINDA GUY, and he’s absolutely made a few of his outfits by hand. and ofc he has “gremlin outfits�� for when he goes off exploring with Hyrule

Four: Similar to Time with the band shirt + jeans combo, but on the opposite end of the spectrum because he’s bright and colorful. He’s also the most likely to walk around with a shirt with mothman on it and then when people ask him about it talk about it as if he 100% believes mothman is not only out there, but there to get HIM specifically no matter where he goes on the planet

Wind: memes. he has tshirts with memes on them, and he’s the most likely to wear fandom merch and stuff like that. he’s 13/14 he doesn’t put a whole lot of thought into what he’s got on, he’s just against shoes. he’s the one kid who’s always got sandals on even if its fucking snowing because he’s anti socks and shoes

[merbear25]

Hello!!! I saw the “what kind of women Mihawk would like” and I was wondering what Killer and Kids type would be! If that’s okay! I hope you’re having a good day/night!✨

Hey there! I’m glad that it sparked some curiosity about Kid's and Killer's type. They really need so much more content, so I’m more than happy to write this for you! I decided to make the reader gn, so hopefully you don’t mind. I hope you enjoy it and have a lovely day/night too. 💜💜

Original ask

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, headcanons

Their type (Killer, Kid)

Killer

He’s fairly level-headed, and although he’s used to being around more radical individuals, he may want just a bit of a break when it comes to his partner.

That doesn’t mean his partner has to be just as calm or calmer; they could be a bit wild at times. In fact, I don’t think he’d necessarily mind that. As long as you aren’t constantly getting yourself into trouble, he wouldn’t mind you being a bit more energetic.

I could see him with someone who is more open about how they feel and what they are thinking. He’s a good listener and observant, so he’d be able to pick up on the little things.

With this considered, he’d appreciate a partner who shows him the same courtesy. Someone who is willing to listen and is patient would go a long way with him.

I could see him wanting to be affectionate and to be with someone who enjoys cuddling and hugs.

He’d probably be drawn to someone who holds some contrast. For example, they look rather sweet but are interested in horror or they dress alternatively but have a room filled with stuffed animals/loves cute things.

I have this image in my head of him gifting you with flowers on a whim. Not expecting anything in return other than your smile and affection.

A level of maturity would go a long way. Being able to conduct yourself with at least some grace when caught in an argument, not resorting to below the belt actions, would help you earn his respect.

I believe he would enjoy having a partner with a sense of humor, just be sure not to point out his laugh; he’s a bit self-conscious about it, afterall.

Going off the assumption that he’s physically stronger than you, he wouldn’t expect you to fight any battles for him. That being said, having a partner who sticks up for him would be heart-warming.

Kid

Being one to anger quickly, you may think that having a s/o who was his total opposite would offer more stability, more balance. However, I think that’s only true to an extent.

Although it would do him well to have them be just a bit more level-headed, he would do well with someone who was fiery—a fighting spirit, one that wouldn’t back down easily.

I feel like he would value inner / mental strength a lot, probably even more so than physical.

Taking that into consideration, a s/o who has a quick tongue and is bold enough to confront him if his temper gets the best of him, would not only catch him off guard, but would leave him wondering who they really were. 

With his interest piqued, he’d enjoy pushing each other’s buttons, which means that the potential partner in question must be able to hold their own. 

Tease him back! Sure, he’s going to blush and get flustered, maybe ever scold them a bit but the banter is something that would certainly work its way through to his heart.

I imagine there being a bit of an argument between the two of them, and when enough time passes and both have cooled off, they both curl up next to each other. Perhaps there are no sorrys exchanged, but it’s done through physical touch.

Considering how out of tune he is with his emotional side, he might not do well with a partner who’s very open about discussing such things; I could see him stonewalling in that case, which wouldn’t be good for either person.

Someone who could show their feelings more so through actions would probably be ideal for him. That being said, he’s not particularly affectionate either.

In terms of how he would show he cares, I would say his love language would be acts of service. To him, actions spoke louder than words ever could, so if his partner understands that, there would be less problems in the future.

I believe ingenuity would impress him. Thinking outside of the box was a valuable skill, one which he could admire.

[everykindofnerd13]

Trolls Human AU but it’s college student snack pack raising Tiny diamond as all of their kid when Guy Diamond finds himself with a child at the rope young age of 19.

The crew having a schedule of who watches Tiny at any given time on any given day. (It is extensive and color coded and Branch had a great time making it.)

Everyone explanding tiny diamonds repertoire of skills before he can even comprehend his own existence. Like.

Suki who holds a one year old Tiny on her lap while she works on mixes.

Cooper and D who switch off holding Tiny in one of those chest carrier things while they play DDR.

Poppy who will give Tiny a bag of scrap paper and tell him to make a picture inside it. (She doesn’t want to let him actually touch the paper, lest he ingest it.)

Branch who puts on science kids shows like Wild Kratts and Sid the Science Kid on the background while he and Poppy have Tiny so that he kid can start learning fun science stuff early.

Sati and Chenille who started by dressing up Tiny in their studio, but ended up just letting him use his creative guidance on them. (They hold him above a pile of fabric and whichever two he picks they have to make work as a garment.)

Biggie who has “tea parties” with Tiny and Dinkles (his cat) and is always trying to teach the baby proper table manners, it’s futile, for Tiny is a menace.

Smidge who teaches the baby to “work out”. (She actually owns a bunch of grip training baby toys that she hands him while she lifts weights.)

Barb who insists she doesn’t like babies but will happily take Tiny in for a night when needed, making little purée dinners for him and spoiling him rotten for the evening.

Legsly, who encourages Tiny to dance with her in her living room, gripping his hands and holding him up so they can “dance”.

Fuzzbert who is canonically mute and uses sign language to communicate in this universe, who loves to bring Tiny out to the park to experience nature with him, always mesmerized by the baby’s wonder at the clouds and the leaves. (Listen, I just like to imagine that Fuzzbert as someone who often finds themself unable to make themselves heard, quite enjoys the satisfaction of such a small child finding joy in the same things he does.)

Tiny who is very monkey-see monkey-do, and actually is a very well rounded kid after being raised by so many well rounded people who care about a love him.

When they’re together as a group, usually at game nights, they’ll make Tiny little “mocktails” aka, like, mango juice, so that he doesn’t feel left out while they all drink their drinks of choice.

Tiny is the most spoiled kid on earth because he has so many aunts and uncles willing to pitch in and get him whatever he wants.

Brozone and Viva also loving Tiny when they meet him one day while Branch and Poppy are in charge of him. Poppy has a little stroller with a sunshade, and Branch is happily carrying the baby bag so the stroller isn’t too heavy to push. At first, everyone’s mortified cause they thing that their baby siblings have gone off and had a whole baby without telling them, but they quickly notice the “Tiny Diamond” printed across the baby bag and realize it’s in fact their siblings’ close friend’s baby that they’ve heard so much about.

Viva making the kid candy necklaces only to be quickly shut down by Clay who explains that they’re a choking hazard, and they should not be given to a baby.

Bruce who has kids of his own and will invite Guy Diamond to drop Tiny off at his place when he and the rest of the snack pack want a night out.

JD who is terrified of children after how much he feels like he screwed up with Branch, but is still infatuated by the little boy and basically gives him anything he wants.

Floyd who mostly stays out of the way while the baby’s around but is the first to volunteer to put him down for a nap so that he can sing him a lullaby and rock him to sleep.

Branch and Poppy being very blush when old women tell them they have a “beautiful family” when they’re out and about, because while they do consider Tiny and all of their friends family, they know the older women mean something different.

Listen this AU is living rent free in my head. I have a timeline. I have a whole thing. I have backstories and modern world adaptations of trauma. It’s pretty fun.

[ronearoundblindly]

ooo how would ce characters react if you started decorating for autumn in august? 🤭

Ya know, right off the bat, I can't think of anyone who's downright against it, but some of them would help and some would just leave you to it. One--take a wild guess--would throw an incredible bitch-fit if he tripped over one gd thing in his way, but otherwise...

Um, there's some language but nothing adult-specific.

Most Into Autumn Decor--Curtis Everett

Okay, there's a reason I worded it that way, but I was a bit surprised, too. I would not be able to tell you if this somehow wasn't influenced by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork's "Life Is Short So Make It Sweet" series, but I truly believe Curtis would be equally into decorating for fall/autumn with you. He'd be the most active in finding decor, too, whether he's shopping with you there or just finding stuff randomly. He'd take the time to plan out and execute a whole thing in the house, and he would get the most joy out of sitting in the warm glow.

Honorable Mentions to James Mace, Johnny Storm, and Ransom Drysdale.

Mace will get into it but not as much as Curtis and for a shorter period of time. You best believe Johnny digs the campfire-and-s'mores vibes but is wary of shit hanging from the ceiling or dry stuff piled on the floor. Ransom is obviously into dressing for the season but also likes to find the most expensive version of all decor, so those beautiful, blown-glass pumpkins are a staple. Ran is perfectly fine if you want to repaint the damn walls every couple months to match the mood; he's fine with it, but he doesn't expend much effort.

Most Indifferent--Jimmy Dobyne

He doesn't hate the season by any means. He's fine with the colors. He likes when you're happy, so if the house needs to be packed with pumpkins and fairylights and shit, okay. Don't expect him to really participate in it, and don't bring rotting leaves into the house. Real pumpkins are for eating or outside.

The other reason he doesn't really care is that Jimmy spends most days outdoors for work and whatnot. He sorta just...sees autumn the whole time it's autumn, and that is enough for him.

*Most Into Halloween Decor--Jake Jensen

If you were wondering why I didn't mention Jake earlier it's because he is miles above Curtis's enthusiasm for one specific thing: spooky shit.

Jake isn't afraid to go all-out. He will make the entire house, the yard, the gd neighborhood if they let him, into a haunted experience. This is, unfortunately, to the point where you have slipped on fake blood before and bruised your tailbone. Jake is now limited to the week of Halloween itself for the more dangerous accoutrements like liquids and sharp blades. Knives and weapons stay in shadowboxes or cabinets otherwise.

No, he will not be taking questions about why they aren't the fake, safe kinds. Just let him have this.

**I don't have a name for the superlative that Lloyd Hansen wins but he is the most obsessed with curating *his look* seasonally.

Yes, I even mean more so than our sweater boi Ransom...

Lloyd is also the man who flips the fuck out if a room or the yard is littered with stuff to decorate. If it's a mess (even for a little while) he thinks it all looks trashy and can't stand that, so you gotta be kinda stealth or methodical about doing it.

Most Into DIY Decor--Ari Levinson

Project? Did someone say project???? Ari's there, tools ready, let's go.

Ari's the man who has a shed or garage full of stuff for all occasions. Sure, there are a lot of power tools and mechanic things, but he's also kept track of all the art supplies, cleaned up that hot-glue gun and twist-tied the cord nicely, and sorted everything into bins or some of the drawers in his shelves. Nails and screws for all sorts. Wall anchors if necessary. He keeps a stash of those papertowel rolls for kids projects. Tissue paper and bags for gift wrapping. He doesn't go so far as to color-code it or anything, but it's grouped together and neatly stowed away. He is always willing to participate in building something new, even if it's silly little paper things.

Most Into Autumn Activities--Steve Rogers

I don't think Steve has any issue with early sprucing for the season, but he is definitely planning where the apple-picking and pumpkin patches are and when to go. There may be fourteen different hay rides and corn mazes to get through, but don't worry, he's got a schedule! He's rewashed the thermoses for hot cocoa at the ready. He bought another stack of pie tins just in case. He printed off several new recipes to try this year, and the ones from last year have hand-written notes in the margins of what to adjust this time. So, yup, hang onto your butts because it's gonna get real busy in a few weeks...

Thank you for asking!

Damnit, these are so amazingly fun. Keep 'em coming!!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Asks; Ko-Fi]

[lana-llama-in-pajamas]

thick as blood

sweet as milk

chapter 4 (parts seems juvenile)

a few days have passed and you finally cleaned your home, the bathroom was a lot nicer now and yes to Francis's odd dismay your apartment looked like a green house, today was rainy so you stayed in writing thank you letters to your neighbors.

Francis was at his last stop. he walked up the steps of a very nice new home, one of those buy to build homes he's seen on Sears catalogs (look it up, very cool)

he knocked on the door with his foot as he carried more milk than a normal household would use, the door opened via a very pretty woman in a blue polka dot dress and blue sweater "Francis! you got my call" she opened the door wide as he walked passed her placing the jug crate on the counter "you wouldn't believe how many cakes the school is asking of me" she continued following him in filling up a glass of lemonade "isn't your husband a baker?" he asked nodding as he took the drink from her "he's too held up with catering the convention that rolled in" she answered folding her arms standing across from him "but I did want to spring something up on you...we've known each other for a bit would you say?" she asked almost in a whisper. Francis stopped mid sip nodding slowly thinking of the million things she was about to say "right...you know my daughter Amelia" she walked passed him into the living room, Francis followed even more puzzled "she's 15 now no?" "yes" god why was she being so vague? "sit, please" she pointed to her pristine yellow couch "you see my daughter got a cat and as funny as it is now we're sad to say she's deathly allergic" she awkwardly laughed "you don't know anyone who would want one hm?" he stared blankly at her for a moment mentally cursing her for freaking him out "Joan, I don-...actually I do know someone in the need of a companion" Joan's eyes sparkled a little "great! Johnny bring the cat" she called upstairs and a few moments later a little boy still in his pajamas carried down a small kitten in his arms "milkman! your taking my sisters cat?" he asked running over to him, the poor kitten wiggling around as he did so "yes i am" "but cats are for girrrllss ewww" Johnny laughed passing the poor sleepy thing to him

"I'm giving it to a girl, but no cats are for men too." francis pet it gently "my dad says sooo" the little kid huffed "ok back to your room." Joan pulled his ear on the way back to the hallway going into his room coming back moments later with bags and a litter box "toys, litter, litter box, and food. its still too small for solid foods so, a little baby formula warm water and the kibble should be good" she pointed to each bag explaining how it worked before sitting down on the armchair beside couch. “ so we’re giving it to a girl, not to fit the stereotype, but is this lady in another home you deliver to?”Joan snickered slapping his knee, hoping that Francis will get the joke, Francis kind of did , but like everyone else Joan couldn’t read him “ She’s my door lady. She actually saved the building from an dopple attack a few nights ago.”he told Joan inspecting the small fluff ball “oh wow must be an intimidating woman” Joan said imagining a large gruff woman with a killer stare, if Francis could read her mind he would’ve laughed but he continued “she seems the type to have a pet.” He got up carrying the bags and box on his hip heading for the door “thanks for the gift Mrs. Wilde” Joan got up to open the door for him “Yaknow Francis, in old Viking tradition gifting a cat to a woman is a symbol of courtship” she said raising a brow hoping to fluster the brick wall “…I don’t think she’s of Viking origin” he said back making Joan face palm “but that is interesting, you were a mythology major?” He asked placing the items into his truck wrapping the kitten in a jacket before gently placing it in the passenger side “ I was, but you know how it goes. You think you’re going to live a life of independence and then you get married to a baker.” Joan looked at the horizon saying that. Francis looked at her with a softened gaze before she snapped to reality “sorry, I hope she loves the cat, and I hope the goddess freya doesn’t get any ideas haha” Joan turned around fixing her sweater hearing Francis as she got to her door “…..your still a mythology major.” He turned around getting into the truck driving off. Joan still at the entrance, smiling in acknowledgment.

Back at your apartment, the twins were back gossiping to you about model drama you could barely understand while they randomly asked questions about you, “ oh and Eliza got fatter so now we all have to weigh before booking! Can you believe it?? Let the girl eat a little extra cake at her mom’s funeral!” Selenne laughed sipping her tea “oh speaking of, miss mia wants us to help her with the wedding venue! Everyone in the building is invited. ” Elenois shook you a little clearly excited “I forgot they were fiancées, since they live together anyway” you giggled pouring another cup for everyone “ y/n! You didn’t tell us you were a max traditionalist~” Celine pointed at you, smiling “ of course not it’s just since they live together. My brain just automatically thinks that.” You felt a little embarrassed but the twins were known to make people sweat for fun. “ Miss Mia wants to have it during the summertime so we have a long time to prepare.” Sel sat back looking out the window “ good thing she doesn��t want it during the spring. It’s so rainy here.”

Francis knocked at the door the cat meowing, he knew it was hungry so it was a perfect opportunity to teach y/n how to care for it, you opened the door smiling then looking straight at the dramatic kitten meowing loudly “ you found a cat?” You asked getting on your toes to see it closer making Francis die of cuteness on the inside thinking to himself ‘she really did that almost automatically, how adorable’ mentally slapping himself he lowered his hand passing the kitten to her, y/n didn’t know if the cat was tiny or Francis hands were huge because it really fit in the palm of his hand only it’s a little leg spilling out, grab the sweet thing, putting it to your chest “aww poor baby, I bet your hungry” he spoke softly, almost afraid to burst its ear drums with your normal tone, Francis look down at you now getting the picture.

he was attracted to you.

You were smaller than him which every 1950s man wants from a partner and you look beautiful doing everything mundane like if he took a picture at a random moment, you would look like a model no matter what. As if someone directed you in that exact pose. And you dressed nicely. He Longed to see you in more colorful items, just to see your features shine brighter. He stared at you in his mind lovingly

But you looked back up to see the most stern look with furrowed brows “um…did I say something?” you got nervous stoking the cat for comfort “ the cat is hungry but do not feed it milk. That is a myth.” he spoke plainly opening one of the bags putting the food items on the table “ baby formula, warm water, and a little bit of kibble is good for the cat, what will you name it ?” He asked sounding pretty excited about the name part “ maybe we should feed it first and then think of a name” you said leading him into the kitchen with the supplies “hiii francy” the twins waved as he did back before they giggled to themselves “he was absolutely fucking her with his eyes “ selenne pushed her sister’s shoulder whisper yelling “ shutup, that’s so not appropriate!” El covered her mouth, both trying their hardest not to laugh too loud.

You and Francis came back from letting the cat eat sitting on the couch, the twins took the cat from you to pet and prod, “it might scratch” Francis pointed “ let them, I heard prodding pets is a good thing because it makes them more tempered” y/n poured him some tea “you had pets before?” He asked thanking her for the tea “we need to hear some y/n lore” Sel nodded “ I didn’t have pets, but my grandparents did, dogs cows, sheep, wasn’t a farm. It was more like a ranch. My parents live in the city like this one and they never really liked animals” you said studying your tea leaves “ Where is your family?” El asked rubbing the kittens belly “ across the country, I have a cousin who lives here. They are really busy.” You looked out the window at the rain. You didn’t want to tell them the whole truth. “We can understand, it seems everyone in this building has busy lives, aside from the housewives” Francis said ”your right” you nodded “oh have you heard about the wedding?” El asked Francis “no, wedding? You two are getting married?” He asked a little frantic “no no we’re not throwing out our careers yet. Mia’s and Dr. aftons wedding!” Selenne rolled her eyes “oh, yes the doctor asked me to be in the grooms party, I think his bachelor party will be at the bowling alley” "yeah sounds like Dr. afton" Sel sighed "mia still doesnt know what she wants, but she does wanna vote so we all have fun!" El smiled surveying the room, francis was staring at his tea cup but you were in the conversation completely "anyway we forgot we have a alot of calls to make love ya bye" she placed the kitten in your hands before pulling her sister out of the apartment "lets give the love birds forced time alone" she whispered to her twin closing the door behind them

"odd" francis glanced at the door

"yeah, hope everythings ok" you sighed looking down at the cat as he stared at you

“Name?” Francis asked clearing his throat “no idea…I’ll think about it” you placed the kitten on the couch as it played with the tassels on the pillow “well, I’m going to head home, tell me when you name her, I’m excited to know” he said you got up and smiled walking him to the door “of course Francis, thank you for the gift” you blushed opening the door hoping for anything “Yaknow I heard that a man giving their loved one a cat is a proposal in Norse mythology” he said grabbing your hand and kissing it “but neither of us are of Viking blood I don’t think ” (sorry if you are) he walked to his door and you stared holding your hand kissing it softly to feel his lips in spirit

A few weeks had passed and you were on a late shift again. The cat followed you around the building so in turn she now had a bed in the office, it 9pm and you had to wait for 5 of the residents to come home late from a press party

Natasha was in the office playing with the cat “do you have a name for her yet?” She asked making it chase a mouse on a string “no…suggestions?” You pulled out a list of names residents have considered passing it to the little girl “hm..” she wrote a few names even her own “…no Natasha” you said crossing out hers, she shrugged and went back to the cat, time passed and you got a little worried turning on the radio, the twins giving you which channel had the convention/press party coverage. You listened in, and rolled your eyes at the sounds of officials and other higher ups giving empty speeches, a knock at the door made you jump looking up to see natcha with her arms folded staring at her daughter “so. This is what you do at bedtime now? I thought I had more time before you started sneaking out” she held her temple sighing you got up feeling guilty for not even asking Natasha if she even asked her mom to be with you “I’m sorry I just assumed since it’s Friday um, I should have called you ma’am” you looked down seeing natcha look back at you with the ‘mom look’ “no don’t apologize, I should have checked on her earlier but I was busy cleaning, Natasha. Room. Now. And I’m taking your record player tomorrow” she said it so calmly, no yelling just a sweet calm yet stern tone “aww mom!! I’m gonna be bored all day!” Natasha folded her arms pouting “ too bad so sad. Up.” She pointed out the door and Natasha walked still pouting “so sorry you had to see punish my child y/n” natcha said fixing her house coat “no no don’t worry about, I just wish my parents were as calm as you are” you smiled seeing another resident walk over, Francis looked over “something happen?” He asked standing near natcha at the doorway, you could see her side step to not touch him. Her face contorting slightly but fixing itself “Natasha sneaked out to play with the cat n the doorman” she said side eyeing him “nat? Sneaking out? She’s 11” he said just kind of knowing? You felt your stomach drop a bit…hoping they couldn’t tell “she’s 12 in a week.” Natcha stated before walking off “goodnight everyone.” She went back to her sweet tone, there it was. The way he turned to look at her, it shot you in the heart a bit “your still working?” He asked walking in, the cat rubbing against him purring “a few of the residents are still not here, neither is the night shift” you looked away from him with a sour look on your face, you felt so stupid. You two were not a thing and also haven’t even kissed yet and here you are assuming a broken family and getting jealous of a woman who’s only ever shown you kindness not to mention fed you. Francis could tell you were reeling from something but didn’t know how to approach “…I can make you a coffee, I got donuts from a friend today” he walked over placing his hand on your arm “you look tired” his warm hand and gravily voice from just waking up made you feel better yet worse, “your one to talk” you smiled trying to let go “so mean” he let go “ I’ll be back” he walked off, you watching the way he moved Lowkey checking the sway of his ass but quickly looking away. The cat sat at the desk ‘listening’ to the radio with you as you gave it scritches “what about Lucy? Mimi? Tiger?” You read off the list of names to the feline hoping it would give some type of approval but you were sure if it nodded you would scream. Francis came back placing a coffee and a muffin and donut “pick” he said pointing, you grabbed his hand pointing it to the chocolate muffin “ I don’t want to be up all night via sugar and coffee” you smiled taking a bit “thank you” you covered your mouth he hummed taking the donut kissing your head before walking out. God you want to fly and throw yourself out a window at the same time, two people walked in, the pilots. Both disfigured and grotesque slamming the papers against the window making you jump “let us in. Miss door man.” One said somehow with a stitched mouth “eat my ass.” You said back making the younger one angry trying to get to you through the paper hole. Fuck I ran out of spa