#in the future if it will work out and I can have my cake and eat it too but I genuinely don’t know how realistic that is to achieve

[chanelnumbermine]

2024 f2 boys during christmas preparations | f2 grid picks x gn!reader

i’ve been feeling really tired during those last few days and thought that i could use some help. who better than my favourite drivers! lay back and enjoy this small christmas gift! happy holidays, cuties!! <3

pairings: ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;

warning(s): cuteness overload!!

ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1

as we know, the boy is a menace in the kitchen

so he helps with the christmas tree!

shows off his strength by carrying the tree to your house

excited to see all the lights and ornaments, wants to make it really perfect since you're doing it together

teases you about your height so so much

will lift you just so you can put the star on top of the tree! so cute!

kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg petronas

he's a little flustered with all of this

can't help with the food, the tree is already decorated, what is even left?!

the presents!!

kimi would be the ultimate perfectionist in terms of wrapping

and don't even try to convince him that he can use a gift bag

every single item will be neatly wrapped with a bow on top

"can i wrap you up next?"

zane maloney | rodin —> formula e

king of confusion

chances are the chritmas traditions in your countries are vastly different and it's normal to be puzzled

zane would blindly follow your lead and admire how you handle yourself with so many responsibilities

"woah, babe, exactly how many cakes have you baked? this is so good!"

cleans up after your cooking because he sees how exhausted you are

"you need to teach me how to make this so i can help you out better"

paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver

surprisingly useful!!

my man will try to show off his baking skills but will end up asking questions every two minutes to make sure he doesn’t mess anything up

and thank god he asked, because no paul, you can’t add protein powder to my christmas pudding!

very clingy and affectionate, something about holidays together makes his heart melt

brushing his fingers over yours and teasing because he knows you will get frustrated and can't act on your needs

grins when you pounce on his later

pepe marti | campos, red bull academy

type of overachiever boyfriend who will start planning everything november 1st

all the dishes, the decorations, dates... you can count on him to have everything ready

but he somehow forgot about one thing: gifts

emergency last minute shopping, filled with laughs and good food!

"baby this dress would look so pretty on you!" "pepe we already bought so much-" "who cares! let's buy you this dress and, omg, is this matching lingerie?"

very excited puppy!

luke browning | hitech —> f2

really happy to be of help with just about anything

the type of guy to yap about his family traditions, his mom's cooking

not to compare or shame you, he just really loves christmas and wants you to be a part of his world so much

"mom, how do you make these cookies? i want to make them for my darling this year"

overall, it is very sweet and caring during this time

bc he's already imagining your future together and how would your family home look during christmas omg

franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing

curious about anything and everything

"hey, hey, baby! how did you make this? it looks to pretty"

you're stuck with his for hours tbh

will try to help you and fail miserably, causing even more mess and more work

flour will end up on the floor and on your faces

absolutely shameless about it, looks at you with puppy dog eyes

"come on baby, you weren't paying attention to me and now i ruined it! it's not my fault"

will try to make it up with a kiss or two, or five

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 114 (A Winterfest to Remember?)

The events of this post occurred leading up to and during Winterfest (Generation 2 parts 99 to 102)

As Winterfest approached, Nicola and her brother Dominic allowed themselves to reminisce about holidays with their father. The spirit of the season had begun to infect them, and their gloomy hearts were beginning to open up to the spirit of the season.

Hazel woke late and came downstairs - she'd been at the Gnome's Arms until the early hours of the morning, and Nicola wondered how she could be so chipper. "Morning!" Hazel said, but the number of good mornings between them had dwindled. "Are we all ready for Wicked Winterfest Movie Night at the pub?"

"You've been home for five hours and you already want to go back?"

Hazel shot an annoyed glance at her wife. "We've been going to Wicked Winterfest every year since high school."

"Midnight Massacre 3 is barely even a Winterfest movie."

"It takes place on Winterfest Eve!"

Nicola sighed. "I just don't feel up to it this year. Don't you want to stay in and watch something less gory? My mom said she'd bake her chocolate chip cookies."

"River, Cass, even my Dad said they'd be there tonight. It's a tradition. I have to go."

"You don't have to go."

"Well, you don't have to stay home."

Hazel left for work in a foul mood. While she and the mayor canvassed in Finchwick that afternoon, he stopped to talk with her near the village green.

"Is something wrong, Hazel? You haven't been applying yourself to the job as much lately as you did when you started."

"I like my job, Mayor Varner, but I'm not sure this is what I want to be doing. It's a lot of administration and I don't know if I'm making a difference."

The mayor smiled warmly. Taking the reins of a town like Henford was rarely a stressful job, but Mayor Varner was kind and unflappable. "Enjoy your time off over the holidays, and give your future some thought. We can talk more about it in the new year."

Hazel met her family in the upstairs den of the Gnome's Arms, where every Winterfest they played slasher flicks for those who appreciated a little subversion from the usual cozy celebrations. Her sister-in-law, Cassandra, was delightful and charming but also a little gloomy from time to time, and she loved this tradition as much as Hazel.

"Midnight Massacre 3 never gets old. It's a Winterfest classic!" she gushed, too excited to sit down.

Hazel stayed out late for another night, chatting into the early hours with fellow local horror fan, Elsa Bjerg-Watson. She lived in Old New Henford with her parents, Bjorn and Clara, her wife Maira, and their daughter Jada, but she said the family had just made room for her niece, who had moved to Henford from San Myshuno.

"Suri broke up with her girlfriend a few months ago and she needed a change of scene. My mother's the best professional baker this side of Simlandia - even she knows she'll never match Noemi Alegria in Tartosa - but Suri wants to be as good as her grandmother someday."

"If Suri's cakes are as good as Clara Bjergsen's, I'll be her best customer," said Hazel.

The next morning was Winterfest Eve, and Nicola's mom, Kim, made chocolate chip cookies. She probably missed Eddie's presence at their holiday celebrations even more than her kids, leaving the cookies on the kitchen table before heading upstairs to cry it out in her room.

Hazel joined her wife in the kitchen and made a beeline for the cookie platter. "Did you want to head over to my parents tomorrow in the morning to open presents, or did you want to open presents together here?"

"We want to open our presents on Winterfest Eve this year because Dad always liked opening them before bed."

Hazel shrugged. "Okay, great. Then tomorrow we can go over in the morning for presents with my family, too."

"We want to go for a walk to see the wildlife on Winterfest morning. Dad loved living out here for the wild foxes and bunny rabbits."

Hazel didn't mind Henford's picturesque forests, bunnies, and birds, but they could walk through Isle of Volpe Park any day of the year. "I'd really like to go over to see my family in the morning."

"You're with them all the time," she said. "Why not make time for me?"

"Nic, I'm sorry you lost your dad, but he wouldn't want you to mourn him this long. He loved you too much to see you so sad. But when I'm home you're grading papers."

"You don't know what my Dad would have wanted, Haze. And seriously, when are you home?"

"I'm home right now and we're fighting again!"

Nicola and Hazel finally heard themselves and grew quiet, but a bitterness had long ago started to fester.

Hazel spent Winterfest Eve and most of Winterfest Day with her family, not her wife. She gushed over Heather's new engagement ring, and wouldn't let her own relationship troubles dampen her excitement for her big sister.

Hazel lingered outside a while before sunset. She hoped to delay going home just a little longer, in favour of a cozy celebration with her family. Like old times. She finally turned to leave when her phone buzzed with a text from Nicola.

Come meet me by the rink. Please.

Henford's local ice rink was just across the laneway from her childhood home on Cobblebottom Street, and she met her wife next to the ice with a kiss.

"I'm sorry I've been so hard to live with lately," said Nicola with a sheepish smile. "I don't let myself get sad about my dad, but holding it in makes me angry. I know I need to talk to someone for me as much as we need to talk to someone for us. But I love you, and I want to make us work."

"I want that, too."

With the sunset providing a picture-perfect backdrop to a tense Winterfest season, Hazel and Nicola found a way to end Winterfest with a cozy celebration at the ice rink, after all.

Could their blissful moment last, and would they make time for counseling as intended? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

In case you're wondering why this is such a sad arc already, Nicola's grief moodlets say it is:

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

Brain is braining too much me thinks

[quantum1mmortality]

Captain Curly; marriage hcs <3

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Chat I know I mentioned getting back into writing for twst but the current hyperfixation is too strong rn so just bare with me I NEED to write for mouthwashing

!this is written with an AU in mind; curly still works for pony express, but there's no ship. Just a normal job. Also J***y doesn't exist.!

Tw/cw; afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy and having said baby, MANHANDLING!!!!, teasing, use of pet names, uhhh I can't think of any else

Not proofread

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Sfw

I think Curly would definitely be a family oriented person. The further you'd get into your relationship, the more he'd ask about your opinion on kids and if you'd want any in the future.

I also think Curly would be on the traditional side, too. If you said yes to having kids, he'd take that as an opportunity to show you how good of a provider he can be, and how willing he is to become a father.

When you do eventually have children, he'd be more than willing to take off work to help around the house. You just gave birth, he knows it's hard for you, so he'd make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all three of you.

Sidenote; Curly would definitely be a good cook. He probably took culinary in highschool

If he knew Anya at the time, he'd have her babysit your children so he could take you out on dates. This happens quite often, too; probably around once or twice a month. He just wants to show how much he appreciates you and everything you've done for him and your relationship <3

He'd take you to the most expensive restaurants and tell you to order whatever you wanted, and if you're done breastfeeding, he'd order a bottle of champagne for you both.

He'd be one of those "I love my wife" husbands. Everyone at his job is so sick of hearing him talk so highly of you. It'll be someone's birthday, they'll bring a cake, and he just won't eat it. Why? "My wife could make a better cake."

After you guys got married, he couldn't stop calling you his wife. That name felt so surreal to him; like the woman of his dreams is finally his? And there's a title for that?? Of course he's going to use it constantly.

He probably also took Anya out to help him pick out a ring. And thank god he did btw because he would've gotten you a ring with the biggest diamond they had 😭😭 (sorry to all the big ring lovers in chat rn they're just not it for me)

Nsfw

Curly is a romantic. He'd want to take things slow, cherish you as much as possible, especially if it's your first time.

He wouldn't think of it as sex, he'd think of it as lovemaking; showing you his worth and how much he cares about you.

He rarely gets rough, you have to ask him to be because he just won't do it. But, he's a suck up for you, so if you want something, it's yours.

So, he'd get rough. He'd go faster than he usually does, maybe put his hand around your neck and squeeze ever so gently. But afterwards, he'd feel awful; like he was hurting you or something.

He'd apologize profusely, say he's never gonna do it again, but does it a few days later. It's like going through the five stages of grief but skipping the first four and consistently being at acceptance

He's a hand holder. Since he's an intimate person, his preferred position is missionary. He likes this position for a few reasons; he gets to see your expression if you're enjoying it or uncomfortable, he gets to kiss you, and he can hold your hand. It's one of his favorite things to do, not only because he finds it much more romantic, but he also loves how you squeeze his hand when you're getting close.

Teasing is one of the things he does best. But verbal teasing, not physical. You can hear him giggle anytime he's inside you, practically taunting you when he knows you're close. He'd say something dumb like, "aw, is princess gonna cum?" And then have a shit eating grin on his face.

Pet names are another thing he uses often. Like I said previously, he'd call you princess, but there's also other names he'd call you during the act. Love, darling, and angel are the ones he uses for you most commonly, aside from princess of course.

I saw someone else say this on here and their hcs were actually what made me want to write (I swear on my SOUL I am NOT trying to copy them 🙏🙏🙏🙏 sorry if it comes off like that) but they said Curly would be buff and I completely agree. He would be HUGE, I'm thinking 6'3-6'5, easily over 220lbs.

The manhandling would go CRAZY, you don't like a position? No issue, he'll just pick you up and put you in a different one. Can't keep your legs open while he's being a munch? As much as he enjoys the feeling of suffocating between your thighs, which believe me, he does, he can't exactly pleasure you if he's unconscious from the lack of airflow. Not a big issue, a firm hand on each leg will do the trick.

Another comment on his body alone to wrap this up; he'd definitely be muscular in his legs and especially his arms. I think his stomach would be toned, not a six pack, but toned. Maybe even a little pudge and a v line 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

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A/N: hi guys pls send requests for curly fics plasplsplspslsplsplslsplspls I'm so thirsty for this man oh ky god I'm crynng

[leeloooonfire]

based on this post about Steve's internalized bi-phobia:

Steve has known for years.

And how could he not when Tommy's freckles come back tenfold each spring like a flower peaking it's head through the last layer of snow? Or when Matthew Carver's hair have a reddish brown tone that turns blond after they spent the last days before summer break practising outside and remind Steve of liquid gold? Or when he watches Star Wars and Harrison Ford, rugged and witty, comes into view and twists his stomach in knots? How could he not know?!

Steve knows he finds guys as attractive as girls, known for many, many years. But.

But he can't. Not when Tommy sneers at that boy in their literature class who likes flamboyant clothes and wants to be an actor on Broadway. Not when the people they meet in Indi who are like Robin and Eddie 'fully queer' and talk about people like Steve as if they're traitors and scams. Not when he reads the newspaper and is assaulted by Reagan and his folk preaching about the 'fag pandemic' or how his father nods in approval and mutters 'another sinner gone for good' when the news play on TV and they occasionally mention the crisis that kills people like Robin and Eddie and him.

Like him....

It doesn't matter how much he loves sleeping with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone or that he thinks he'd like to kiss Eddie and hold his hands and wake up beside him until they're old and wrinkly and complain about bad knees.

He is, but he cannot be a queer, half a fairy '50% like me, 50% like Eddie' as Robin jokes.

He will not be a bisexual, he can keep it inside, keep it hidden, buried deep inside him no matter how much it pains him. He can be the straight friend who goes to pride and bakes rainbow cakes and marries a woman even though his heart screams in an ear ringing cacophony, 'Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie!'

This is how his 20s go: loud and hurting and yearning and hiding and more noticeably being disgusted and ashamed of himself for simply being able to love men the way he can love women.

He's 29 when his wife, Becky, leaves him. It's not just Eddie and this shameful secret that weights heavy on their relationship, but the scars and all the other secrets he is unable to explain to her that drive Becky finally away - back to Boston. She leaves him alone in that tiny house they bought three years ago with their Saint Bernard puppy they lovingly named Bernadette.

He's 30 when he goes to a coffee meeting of the bisexual group meeting in Chicago, nearly turning the car multiple times, hands and knees sweaty with fear that they won't want him there. They do want him there, welcome him with open arms, and talk about things Steve knows all too well: 'When I fell in love with the first girl, I ran. I like men just fine, so I hid my crush. It's just easier, when your parents hate gays, when the world is shaming our community, when we're dying.' He finds a second home there, and learns - learns about queerness and bisexuality, about trans and gender non conforming people and physical attraction versus emotional attraction. He learns about his past and present and about his future, about their history and where they want to go, how they want to mold their world to fit people like them into it without the pain and the hiding.

Steve is 33 when he finally comes out to everyone dear to him. To the kids who aren't kids anymore and to Joyce and Hopper, and then his parents. this does not go well, but Steve doesn't want, doesn't need their validation anymore. He has his family, his friends, his support system who love him not regardless of his sexuality but because of it, love him because it's part of him. He comes out to Becky, too and that goes much better. they want to be friends, in the future. She's also met Gary who works the the NY Times and wants her to follow him into the big city. So Steve is looking forward how that goes, their tentative friendship.

He is 34 when Eddie comes back from his latest world tour and wants to take a break to rekindle with his uncle, to write new songs, to take a breather. It's only natural that Eddie moves into Steve's guest room and takes over his space on the couch where he cuddles Bernadette while Steve is in the kitchen and makes them grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner.

Its even more natural when their feet meet while watching a movie and they lean into each other in the kitchen, dawn barely there, while they wait for the coffee maker to finish.

Steve's 35 when Eddie finally kisses him and he kisses back. No hurt, no shame, no guilt gnawing on him, Steve finally allows himself to be with the person he truly wants - regardless of their gender.

[iris-qt]

𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎 / 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔

ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ ʙᴏʏꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ

I. Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo freezes mid-bite of his chocolate frog, giving you the kind of look someone reserves for a talking cat. "You can’t pay the what now?" he says, mouth still half-full.

When you repeat it, his eyebrows shoot up so high they practically disappear into his curls. "Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve been paying the rent this whole time? Babe, what rent? Where are you sending this money? Do I need to send the lads to go 'talk' to someone?"

You insist you’re serious, and he bursts into laughter so loud it echoes around the room. He’s clutching his stomach, tears forming in his eyes. "Oh, this is rich! Next, you’ll tell me you’ve been working overtime at Flourish and Blotts to afford my ‘extravagant lifestyle.’ What’s next, huh? Selling cauldron cakes on the side?"

When you try to keep a straight face, he leans forward, his expression deadpan now but his voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, seriously, though. Should I sell my broom? Start knitting scarves for a Galleon a pop? Maybe I can busk on Diagon Alley…play the ukulele or some crap. People love that."

By now, you’re wheezing with laughter, and he just shakes his head, smirking. "Merlin, Y/N, if your acting career doesn’t work out, at least we know you’ve got a future in comedy. But seriously…rent? That’s cute.”

By now, you’re gasping for air, struggling to hold it together, and Mattheo’s smirk only grows wider as he watches you. He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost teasing tone. "You know," he says with a glint in his eye, "If you really need help with the rent... maybe I could offer you a private lesson in how to make some extra Galleons."

II. Theodore Nott

Theo looks up from the chessboard he’s been meticulously studying for the last half hour, an eyebrow raised in mild confusion. "What do you mean you can’t pay the rent?" he asks, his tone calm but with a dangerous edge of skepticism.  

You repeat it, adding a dramatic sigh for effect.  

He blinks slowly, as if trying to process whether you’ve gone mad or if he missed some critical detail in your relationship. "You’ve... been paying the rent? Since when? Because I distinctly recall handling all of that."  

When you insist, he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers like he’s analyzing a particularly tricky potion. "Alright, either you’ve been scammed by an exceptionally creative con artist, or this is your latest attempt to distract me from beating you at chess."  

You pout, staying in character, and he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N, do you even know where the rent money comes from? Because I can assure you, it’s not your side gig selling those questionable potions on Etsy.”  

The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights a grin. Finally, when you can’t hold back your laughter anymore, he rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Honestly, I need to start charging you rent for all this nonsense. At least make it worth my while.”  

As you finally break into laughter, Theo sets his chess pieces down with a dramatic sigh, his eyes softening just a bit. He leans in, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. "You’re impossible," he mutters, his voice a little quieter now, though there’s still a teasing glint in his eyes. "But you know, I wouldn’t have it any other way."

He gives you a small, almost shy smile, then leans back in his chair, his usual cool demeanor returning. "Now, let’s see if you can distract me enough to win this game."

III. Draco Malfoy

He would look at you like you’ve gone MENTAL

“Haha funny joke, y/n,” he rolls his eyes, going right back to reading his book and munching on his green apple.

When you reiterate it, Draco squints at you, lowering his book slightly, the crunch of his apple freezing mid-chew. "Excuse me? You what?" he says, a hint of incredulity creeping into his voice.

When you repeat it again, this time with extra drama, he sits bolt upright, his apple rolling forgotten onto the table. "Wait, wait, wait…you pay the mortgage? Since when? Did I suddenly get amnesia and forget we’re Muggles now? Because last I checked, the Manor doesn’t even have a mortgage!”

He grabs his wand, waving it theatrically. "Accio sense, because clearly you’ve lost yours!”

You keep the act going, insisting you’re serious, and he just gapes at you like you’ve declared you’ve taken up dragon wrestling as a hobby. Finally, he narrows his eyes.

“Y/N, love, if this is about that handbag you wanted last week, just say so. No need to concoct elaborate tales about rent payments. Merlin’s beard, you're ridiculous.”

When you burst into laughter, he leans back in his chair, scowling but unable to hide the faintest smirk. "I’m marrying a lunatic," he mutters, reaching for his apple again. "At least the lunatic has good taste in handbags."

IV. Blaise Zabini

Blaise looks up from his cup of espresso, one perfectly arched brow lifting as he tilts his head at you. "I’m sorry, darling. Did I hear that correctly? You can’t pay the rent? You mean the rent that I, Blaise Zabini, the man with seven vaults at Gringotts, didn’t even let you look at, let alone contribute to?"

You double down, trying to sell your story, and he exhales slowly, setting his glass down with the exaggerated care of a man trying to keep his composure. "This is new. Tragic, even. Shall I sell the antique Italian sofa to keep us afloat? Or, Merlin forbid, cut back on the imported silk sheets?"

When you keep insisting, he leans back, crossing his arms and giving you a slow once-over, his lips twitching with amusement. "You know what? You’re right. It’s all gone. We’re destitute. Better start knitting socks and selling them on Knockturn Alley. Maybe I’ll start charging Draco for advice. He’s overdue for paying his mate tax.”

Finally, when you burst into laughter, Blaise smirks, shaking his head and snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/N. If anyone else tried this nonsense, I’d have them banned from my flat and my life. But you? You get away with everything.”

V. Regulus Black

Regulus doesn’t even look up from his book, clearly too absorbed to even register your words at first. But when you repeat it, his eyes flicker briefly to you, a quizzical expression crossing his face. "Wait, what do you mean you can’t pay the rent?"

You try to explain, going for maximum drama, and he sighs, setting his book down with a soft thud. "Y/N, darling, I pay the rent. I handle everything. You’re telling me you’ve been struggling to pay it all this time?" His tone is flat, not even slightly concerned, just bemused. "I’ve already transferred the payment for the month. Did you forget?"

You continue the joke, and Regulus glances at you again, narrowing his eyes. "Are you seriously trying to convince me that you…you…have been paying the rent? Did you somehow think I’d believe that, or did you just want an excuse to create drama?"

He picks up his book again, unfazed. "You’re lucky you’re charming, because if anyone else tried this, I’d seriously reconsider their grip on reality." He sighs with exaggerated patience, "Don’t you remember? I’m the one who handles the bills. The whole thing is already sorted. No need to panic, love."

When you can’t keep it going anymore and laugh, he glances up once more with a slight smirk, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Y/N, your attempts at theatrics are as bad as your cooking. At least make the drama more believable next time.”

As you laugh, Regulus's serious expression softens just a touch, and he leans over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You’re impossible, you know that?" he mutters, but there's a warmth in his voice. "If you ever do run into a problem, though... just tell me."

You smile, and he sighs, shaking his head with a hint of affection. "I swear, you’ll be the death of me." But there’s a small, barely noticeable smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the kind he only gives when he’s not trying to be all stoic and mysterious.

VI. Tom Riddle

Tom Riddle doesn’t even flinch when you announce that you can’t pay the rent, simply pausing for a moment before his sharp, calculating gaze turns to you. "What are you on about?" he asks, his voice smooth but laced with a hint of annoyance. "You’ve been paying the rent? Since when did you even have the opportunity to pay it?"

When you repeat it with exaggerated seriousness, he leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes, clearly trying to make sense of it. "I’ll admit, you’re certainly creative...but no. I’ve always taken care of the bills. I don’t recall a single instance where you were involved in such matters."

You continue the joke, and he chuckles darkly, though it’s clear he doesn’t fully buy it. "If this is your attempt at gaining attention, it's a poor one, darling. Do you think I’m so easily fooled?" His tone softens just slightly, a flash of something that could almost be affection in his eyes.

He stands and steps toward you, leaning in just close enough to make you feel his presence, but not too close to be truly comforting. "Next time you need a distraction, don’t go around pretending to pay rent," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear ever so slightly. "It’s beneath you. If you need something, ask. But don’t insult my intelligence."

When you finally start laughing, Tom smirks, his eyes glimmering with something softer, though it’s well hidden behind his usual cold demeanor. "You’re insufferable, Y/N. And that’s probably why I... let you get away with it."

A/N: Thank you to @fanfics4ever for this idea ♡

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 5.

Will I start using my own art as banners? Yeah, 'cause I can lmao.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

Footsteps against the muddy ground, the little snow that had fallen in the south melted easily and only served as nourishment to the mud. Levi’s combat boots made it easier for him to take one sturdy step after another, hands inside the pockets of the scout’s green trench coat. Eyes fixed on the ground, dark rebel locks fell to the sides of his face as only his nose peeked through the scarf, creating a fog rhythmically in front of his face. 

He took the muddiest side of the country road out of respect, it felt natural to him. Quickly, his eyes spotted that certain parts of the road were already frozen, “Careful-” 

But before he could actually voice it, instinctively he stopped to catch her as her shoes slipped. Her little squeezed scream paired with her movements as she gripped his arms for support. 

Levi, who was unfazed by her grip or the tricky winter ground, clicked his tongue, “I told you to be careful,” he said, but despite his words, his voice was calm and protective. 

“Ah, yes. My uniform isn’t really designed for a trip to the forest, is it?” she commented between chuckles, but they seemed mostly out of nerves because there wasn’t anything funny going on. 

Unfazed on the outside, Levi’s attention was fixed on his extended arms surrounding her frame but without touching her. She could easily grip any of his forearms for support, but he, who wasn’t a fan of physical contact, tried not to touch her. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to overstep. The only thought crossing his mind as she tried to get both of her feet on steady land was looking at her hands, imagining them around his. 

This could easily be a routine of theirs, him making sure she reached the ferry station safely as she came over to visit him. Walking side by side, fingers intertwined. But that was a daydream still far away, and Levi quickly realized this as she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Well... not actually, it was more like a cheek against cheek as she pressed the side of her face against his and made a kissing sound without her lips actually touching his skin. 

He frowned and slightly pushed back, mostly out of surprise. 

“Oops, sorry-” she said cheekily, recalling both of them how they first met, “I forgot that tough-up soldiers don’t give kisses.” It was mockery. 

“Thank you, Captain.” 

Levi raised his right hand, taking it out of his pocket and imitated her wave back but with far less enthusiasm. Greeting with kisses, something that he had only seen between women but it seemed that in the capital it was also exchanged between men and women. He found it a bit too personal for his taste, but that was because he didn’t even shake hands usually. 

‘I’m a tough-up soldier... I’ll gladly receive a kiss from you.’ 

His hand lowered slowly as he observed her aboard, as an eagle his attention was inflexible. Levi didn’t realize he was holding his hand up until that moment, ‘what an idiot.’ 

But as his bare right hand began to feel the winter weather compared to how warm it was inside his pockets, the freezing air against his skin was a cold wash of reality; they didn’t walk holding hands, it was just a dream. ‘Four-eyes was right... I’m not even trying.’ 

For dreams to come true, you must wake up and work on real life. He was determined. Her welcoming smile from the ferry that began, and a new waving hand to him that was still waiting at the bottom, looking at her. 

“Cap!” She screamed. 

And he couldn’t help but smile very softly at the picture of her face from the top of the boat. 

“Enjoy the cake!” 

Levi’s smile dropped slowly, ‘Eventually I’ll have to fucking tell her that I don’t like sweet shit...’ 

‘Oh well... problems of future’s Levi.’ 

Since then, he was a man with a mission. ‘She asked me for a friend, so at least she doesn’t think I’m a fucking creep.’ 

Seeing the glass half full? That’s exactly what Levi was going to start to do. Baby steps. It’s not that he crossed paths with her continuously, especially when they were not going outside on expeditions. He began to do a mental list; Sweet stuff, flowers, cats, and allergic to nuts. He certainly could come up with something. 

‘Maybe I could write a letter... thank her for the cake.’ 

‘Let’s not carry on the idea that you like that, I don’t like to fucking lie to her.’ 

‘Wouldn’t it be weird that you wrote a letter out of nowhere? Plus, what the hell are you going to write there? ‘Thanks for the cake, I don’t like it, but Hange did.’ No, no, let’s leave the letters to poets and their smooth shit.’ 

And so on, he wished he was as decisive as he was in battle in his romantic life. But as soon as he saw his chance, Levi was confident about taking it. Military event, the weather had gotten better, they were about to leave for an expedition in a couple of days. Had he protected the piece of cake that he was given at the end of the dinner with his life from Hange? Yes, an easier task was retaking Wall Maria. 

“Come on! You’re not going to eat it!” 

“I’ve seen Titans less persistent than you.” 

Levi felt particularly judged walking down the hallways as he switched buildings of the military and went to the main hospital. MPs recognized him in the streets, citizens whispered his name, and he felt a ginormous power to turn around and forget it all. 

‘This is stupid.’ 

‘Well, sometimes you gotta do some stupid shit to get what you want ... I just wished I did this sort of stupid shit when I was young enough to be too hormonal or drunk to care.’ 

“Y/N?” he asked at the front desk, “Is she on service?” 

The other two girls exchanged a look, one took a sip of her tea to hide her raising smirk and the other replied, “Give me a minute, Captain.” 

She rushed behind to the staff-only section and Levi felt particularly impatient. ‘What the hell am I going to tell her? I got a piece of cake and thought of you? No, that’s ridiculous. Then why the fuck am I doing here?! I don’t know!’ 

“Captain?” her voice, her almost closed eyes as she tried to force them open, her hair messy. 

‘I want to see her... I want to see her before I leave to that hell out there.’ 

“Captain, is everything alright?” She asked worriedly, as she moved between the furniture of the hospital’s archive. Her hands hastily tried to ease out her clothes. 

‘Fucking shit...’ he imagined her waking up by his side, drowsy, bed hair and tossed clothes. But as she grew closer, he grew speechless. 

“Is everything alright? Is it an emergency?” Her worried tone made him snap. 

“Yes,” “No,” he replied monosyllabically. 

“Then... what are you-” 

“For you,” Levi acted almost instinctively, pushing the gift in her direction. “No nuts so I don’t fucking kill you.” 

Her lips remained parted while processing the situation, once sense came back into her, she slowly accepted the gift. “Why thank you...” she said in a trance, “Did something happen, Captain-” 

“Levi.” 

“Huh?” 

“My name is Levi.” 

He dodged the question. And while he felt it was only him and her there as her eyes shined in surprise, the truth is that people walked past by them in a hurry to fulfil their tasks. 

“You... you’re leaving, right?” she broke the awkward silence, “To an expedition, I mean.” 

Levi nodded. 

“I hope you return safe. I’ll volunteer to the medical brigade for the return.” 

The mere idea of her waiting at the improvised medical camp they always had to check the soldiers and help the wounded once they returned from outside the walls was enough to make him excited and hopeful. Both necessary emotions when you’re going to face death. 

‘That’ll be a hell of a blessing.’ 

“You’ll be useful there,” Levi replied. 

He knew it was almost disrespectful to be waiting for it; his comrades died, mothers lost their sons, kids lost their mothers. Everyone had their expectations of him, but he was only human. A man who wanted to just catch at least a glimpse of his girl’s face to make it seem like returning from hell had some sort of value. 

Once most of the soldiers had been cared for, Levi searched through the crowd, peeking through the people, getting on his tiptoes to get some height to spot her. 

‘There you are.’ He felt second-hand embarrassment for how excited he got, but as he took steady steps closer, the emotions withdrew slowly. 

Her eyes were reddish and transparent, long face and trembling lips. 

‘No... why are you crying? Who do I have to kill? Give me a name.’ 

Knuckles of a bigger hand began to caress her cheek. She looked up as his knuckle turned into his thumb, softly loving her face. He was dressed in a white overall that clearly indicated he was a doctor. 

‘Who the hell is he?’ Levi quickly felt the anger boiling. He knew he was being irrational, but he had just come back from risking his life; his mind was not seeing reason. 

“Is this a museum?” the doctor, who seemed younger than Levi anticipated, asked cheekily. 

Y/N looked up at him confused. ‘Why the fuck is he so hella tall?’ 

“Then what are two art pieces doing here, you,” as he said that, Y/N gasped, blushed, and smiled shyly, “And that smile.” 

‘He made her smile... he made her smile and blush.’ 

Levi’s steady pace up to them lost its confidence. She noticed him and smiled softly, welcoming, but that didn’t make the Captain feel better. The doctor realized his presence and probably decided to carry on with the rest of his tasks, not without moving past her by dragging his hand across the bottom of her back and giving her waist a little squeeze as he smiled. 

“Levi, I’m so happy you made it back.” 

But those words and her friendly squeeze of his forearms went unnoticed as Levi’s surgical observation caught all that, and he couldn’t hide his unfriendly stare at the man. 

‘Cut your fucking hand off and feed it to pigs before touching her like that without her permission.’ 

— 

“I don’t like the asshole.” 

“You don’t like him, or you’re just jealous he’s charming?” Hange asked as they spun around in their desk chair. “Or that he’s almost as tall as Erwin.” 

“Tch, I don’t like the asshole. Nothing to do with that frivolous shit.” 

‘Perhaps a little bit.’ 

Hange chuckled and rolled their eyes. “Your reasons?” 

Levi rose from his seat, exasperated, walking around the brunette’s office like a caged lion. “Do I have reasons? Yeah. Good reasons? Yeah. How many reasons do I need? None. My intuition has never failed me to spot out jerks.” 

Suddenly, now that he was back to work and had excuses to visit her more frequently, he was always there. The way he always found a way to rest his hand on the bottom of her back right above her ass, squeeze her waist friendly, run a hand through her hair, smile at her. 

“Doesn’t he have better shit to do?” Levi muttered annoyed, observing from a distance at how he said something that made her laugh. 

“Well, he’s at his job,” Erwin replied, mocking him as the captain’s attitude seemed childish. 

“I love how your hair looks in that,” the doctor casually commented. 

It ate Levi from the inside how she began to make it her usual look. ‘That’s the kind of shit you should’ve been saying, but you’re stupid!’ 

Levi hated it. It made him grit his teeth in uncontrolled fury how she always smiled with blushed cheeks and hopeful eyes as she looked at him. ‘She’s just too naive and doesn’t fucking notice that he’s obviously trying to take advantage.’ 

“You’re just jealous; it won’t hurt you to admit it.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, muttering against the hand that held his head, “He fucking stinks, he just wants to get between her legs.” 

“Like you?” Hange joked around as they raised their eyebrows and smirked at their friend. 

“Tch,” he straightened up, offended. “Don’t fucking compare me to him.” 

‘I mean, yes... but no!... I’ll do it respectfully.’ 

One thing was Capital people being too frivolous about their personal space, and another was that Levi always caught him playfully around another girl. 

‘The dude has more hands than an octopus, and none of them are ever over his own fucking body.’ 

The mere idea of him taking advantage of her, of her kindness, made Levi clench his fist. It was very early; Levi had just come out of an extraordinary meeting with the military board that lasted all night long. 

Perhaps he should have given it a thought when he had slept better, not that he slept plenty, but at least he knew how to normally function with three hours of sleep. It was too early to get any transport back to the scout's facility, so he was just doing time as Erwin talked to investors. On the other hand, she was a fresh early bird working at her position quietly as it was a calm morning. 

She seemed radiant, rosy cheeks and smooth hair... hair in the same style he had praised. ‘For fuck's sake,’ it rubbed him the wrong way. 

“Oi,” Levi decided to interrupt her monologue; he was slacked against a wall, bent slightly over with arms crossed. ‘Show her that you care,’ Hange's words echoed in his mind. 

“Yes?” She was archiving paperwork and organizing reports. 

“That asshole... one of the doctors in your division.” 

“Matty?” She quickly filled in the information, “What about him? Do you need him?” Her attention briefly moved to the clock on the wall, “He won’t be here until later on; he had the night shift today.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, looking in another direction, ‘she doesn’t even suspect him.’ 

“No,” he spat out, “Look, keep your guard up around him. Don’t be stupid.” 

Y/N turned around confused, her eyebrows drawn together in mixed emotions. 

‘I’m just trying to protect you.’ 

Levi felt her attention. His steps echoed around the whitish walls of the empty hospital, keeping his head down as he approached. “I’m just saying that stupid little spoiled brats from the Capital like you sometimes don’t realize it, but morons like him aren’t playing friendly.” 

“Excuse me? What did you say?” 

That was the moment Levi should have noticed the change in her tone and the frown switching from confused to angry. 

The click of his tongue was mostly because he didn’t know how to phrase it better, “I’m just saying, dummy,” he swore his tone was caring as his calloused hand from continuous hours of training reached out to caress her forearm tenderly, “that you may be too stupid for your own good and be all nice and friendly, but don't be stupid and do what I tell you." 

‘I care about you and I know firsthand how those assholes abuse their power around girls. I’ll beat the living shit out of him if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable.’ 

Levi swore he had been tender. He wished to run his thumb over her cheek and show her how she could rely on him, how much he was there for her, for her safety. 

“Captain,” Y/N’s tone made Levi snap up as he had his attention focused on his hand that was trying to connect with her, “Who the hell gave you the authority to tell me who I should get involved with?” 

“Ehm-” 

Levi took a step back, confused, as she looked back at him with anything but friendliness. 

“I’ve lived alone my entire life, I have a career, and the last thing I need is a man telling me that I’m too stupid for my own good,” she said, arms resting on her hips as her angry eyes burned into his. 

The cold water’s shock made any quick reply he had to fix the misunderstanding completely vanish, “No—” 

“I respect you for your work and because you’re a close friend of Erwin. But you’re not my father, nor my boss, to tell me what to do and, much less, that I don’t know how to take care of myself,” Y/N snapped a couple of folders on the desk, “If you’re looking to control someone’s life, I recommend adopting a dog. I have work to do. Have a nice day.” 

Levi stood there frozen in his place, perplexed. ‘Wait... is it wrong that I found it hot that she knows how to tell people to fuck off?’ 

“Fuck —” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime @hagridshaircare Wanna join my tag list? Here! You don't appear on this list? Do not worry! there's a limit of tags and I'll add you in the comments <3

[thatgirlonstage]

Re: whether or not Miles actually has the real Mona Lisa: while it being the real thing does provide greater commentary I propose to you that the painting being fake unlocks the potential for a short film about the horrified and pissed off Louvre employees who can’t believe they’ve been asked to turn over The Mona Lisa to this guy scrambling to put together a fake and hide the real one. In terms of the commentary, you can even have your cake and eat it too, if the French government agrees to loan it out bc billionaire corruption and so it’s the average museum employees lying through their teeth to the government and risking felony offenses to protect the art.

My proposed cast of characters:

1. The elderly curator who’s forgotten more about da Vinci and renaissance art than most people learn in a lifetime, was mentored by a dude who smuggled art out of France to hide it from the Nazis and the second he sees the request from miles is like “M. Laurent did not get shot in the leg by a Nazi shithead for me to simply hand over Joconde to this idiot, he would crawl out of his grave and murder me himself and he would be right to do so”

2. The art conservation and repair expert who has worked on the Mona Lisa personally for the past decade, knows her better than just about anyone else in the world, one of probably like three people alive who’s allowed to actually touch her, comes across as high strung and business like but has the deepest and most genuine love for the art pieces and is fiercely dedicated above all else to the idea that art belongs to EVERYBODY, that her job is not the preservation of art for art’s sake but the preservation of art for future generations to see and fall in love with just like she did

3. The 18-year-old who was supposed to be here on an internship except The Covids Happened and now they’re in a bizarre employment limbo where they are sort of still interning but the actual job is not at all what it was supposed to be. Enthusiastically anarchic and socialist and almost concerningly Down For Crime

Together they have to team up for a mini heist-like adventure to convince Miles Bron and the French government that they are handing over the real Mona Lisa while engaging in shenanigans to keep the real thing safe and hidden

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Buck's favorite words

Just a little idea I couldn't get out of my head so enjoy this ficlet 🙂

***

Buck isn't sure why he likes the word so much, but every time he says it, it's like sugar on his tongue. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and like everything is right with the world.

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I'm seeing someone," Buck says to the pretty girl he's just evacuated from a 3-alarm blaze. His voice is kind but firm, a far cry from the Buck of old who might have preened at the attention.

"Oh come on, handsome hero man. Give me your number," she purrs, reaching out to touch his arm.

Her relentlessness gives Buck a little push, and he finds himself using the word for the first time in public. It rolls off his tongue easily, filling him with a quiet pride.

"Sorry, but like I said, I'm taken," he says, gently stepping back. Then, with a smile that's both apologetic and genuinely happy, he adds, "I have a boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sits in the air between them, and Buck feels a warmth spread through his chest.

From then on, he finds himself saying it as often as he can, each time feeling that same warmth, that same quiet joy.

At the flower shop, where he's picking out a bouquet for his and Tommy's dinner date, the florist asks, "Do you need help picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Buck replies with an easy smile. "And I'm good, thanks."

At the coffee shop, he leans on the counter, eyes scanning the pastry case. "Do you have any cranberry orange scones? My boyfriend loves them," Buck asks the barista warmly.

Later, at the bar waiting for Tommy, a pretty girl sends a drink over. Buck catches her eye, raises the glass in thanks, and then gently shakes his head. When she approaches, he's ready with a now-familiar phrase: "I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

Each time he says it, 'boyfriend' feels more natural, more right. It's not just a word anymore—it's a declaration of who he is, who they are together. And Buck finds he loves that feeling almost as much as he loves Tommy.

There's nothing better than the word boyfriend. That is, until a new word takes its place.

At a restaurant, the waiter approaches with menus in hand. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"

Buck's eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks, my fiancé should be here soon." The word 'fiancé' rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and perfect.

On a work call to a new gym, Buck finds himself pacing with excitement. "Wow! This place is nice. Do you have a free trial? I bet my fiancé would love to try it out." He can't help but emphasize the word, feeling a thrill every time he says it.

Later, meeting with the wedding caterers, Tommy sits right next to him, their hands intertwined. Buck squeezes Tommy's hand as he says, "No, we definitely don't want German chocolate cake. My fiancé is allergic to coconut." He glances at Tommy, catching his soft smile at the word.

With each use, 'fiancé' becomes more than just a title. It's a promise, a future, a declaration of forever. And Buck realizes that while 'boyfriend' was wonderful, 'fiancé' is magical—a constant reminder of the commitment they've made and the life they're building together.

But the magic of 'fiancé' only lasts for so long before it's also replaced with something even more profound.

At the hospital, Buck's heart races as he approaches the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Evan Kinard. I just got a call that my husband was here." The word 'husband' feels both new and familiar on his lips.

The receptionist nods reassuringly. "Oh sure, it looks like your husband has just been discharged. Just smoke inhalation and a minor concussion."

Later, at Maddie's place, Buck finds himself chuckling as Chimney and Tommy argue about movies. He turns to his sister with a grin. "I don't know whose husband is more stubborn, yours or mine."

At the 118's karaoke night, Buck takes the stage, his eyes locked on Tommy. "I'd like to dedicate this song to my husband," he announces, his voice full of love. As the opening notes of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" begin to play, Buck starts to sing, his voice soft and sincere. Tommy's face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and deep affection as Buck serenades him in front of their friends and colleagues.

Each time Buck says 'husband', he feels a surge of pride and love. It's more than just a word—it's a testament to their journey, their commitment, and the life they've chosen to share. And Buck knows, without a doubt, that 'husband' is his favorite word yet.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny, I recently found ur page and have been binge reading ur posts, you’re so good!! I have a big order. Peach cake, Red velvet cupcake and a pound cake with strawberries. With a side of with dark hot chocolate and a glass of water, George Russell🙈… if it’s too many details do it however you want bcuz your writing is amazing <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love getting orders! i accept more than just formula one so i'm always happy to try different fandoms. so please! check it out! and thank you lovely anon, i'm happy you love my work! and thank you for submitting a george russell order because i've gotten people asking for him! so thank you! i hope you love it <3

peach cake: ("if you spill a drop, we start all over.") + red velvet cupcake: ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + pound cake with strawberries: ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + dark hot chocolate: (sub!reader) + glass of water: (aftercare) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sub!reader & dom!george, rules & punishments, spanking, sparkling water, jealousy, aftercare, doggy style,

"you're so lucky, honestly he sounds like a prince charming!" you once heard from someone when you were talking about your boyfriend, "george just seems like such a sweet guy. like he double checked to make sure that roses wouldn't make your cat sick? most guys can barely get flowers!"

you felt your ears burn at her words and nervously played with the bracelet around your left wrist. there was on charm on it, letter 'g' for your beloved. your boyfriend, your biggest fan.

your dom, george russell.

but even men who looked like princes in fairy tales could be a little jealous. george often appeared himself to be a very sweet guy, who'd never actually hurt someone. he was a force on the track and would do what he needed to win, but he'd never put his hands on another driver. he'd never get in their face or try to get violent.

but as he watched lando norris try his hardest to pick you up, george really wanted to knock some sense into the driver. just because a woman didn't wear a neon sign that said 'taken', it didn't mean they were free game to flirt with.

and you, the future mrs. russell, should know better. even though the weight of the bracelet you wore wasn't too much. he hoped that it was enough of a reminder to behave. listen to the rules that george had laid out for you.

when lando touched your bare arm, and you stepped back a little. george knew that he had to step in. he was at your side rather quickly, smiling at lando. he wrapped an arm around you.

"see you've met my girlfriend, mate." he smiled, putting all of his charm into it, "i was looking for her." his hand snaked to your ass and you gave it a firm squeeze. you weren't off the hook.

"oh this is-" lando looked at you, "i didn't recognize her, mate. i'm so sorry!"

george was a little unconvinced when he replied,"yeah, a haircut can do that." even though you hadn't styled your hair differently in years. george didn't get too aggressive with the fellow driver because now that he was close to him, he could see that the drink in his hand was large and his stance implied it wasn't the first one of the evening.

but, george made sure that you didn't have a drop of alcohol. so while lando was drunk, you were well aware of the rules that your dom had set for you. the driver leaned to your ear and said, ""you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

and you swallowed, knowing you'd get a lecture when your boyfriend steered you away from the drunken racer. you felt the tip of your ears grow hot and you played with the bracelet. despite how nervous you felt, george was all smiles as he told lando to have a good night.

as you walked away, your lover's voice was hot in your ear, "no flirting. remember? you are mine, and i don't need other men getting their hands on you." he held you by the back. he kissed your cheek softly, "when rules are broken, there are punishments." this was part of your dynamic.

you knew there would be a punishment when you got home and you were right. a bottle of sparkling water from the grocery store was opened. and with you on your knees, opened your mouth. this was a punishment of endurance and being unbreakable. george poured a mouthful in your mouth then closed your jaw. he said, "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

you nodded before you got up onto your feet. your legs shaky as he put the bottle down on the nightstand. you held the water in your mouth as you got over his lap. you could feel his hard cock against your stomach. the goal of the punishment was to hold the water in your mouth even if the carbonation made your eyes run. and george spanked you for every infraction you did.

"you're a whore." he said as he rubbed your bare ass. he stripped you down to nothing as soon as you got home. you were to be laid out naked for him. he on the other hand was still in the shirt and slacks fro the party. it only added to the dynamic, you were exposed for him while he got to stay dressed. he slapped your ass, "you're a whore, you let norris get his hands all over you. you know if you let him suck on your pretty breasts or fuck your poor pussy, you'd be thrown away by the next day." he landed another spank across your ass.

you whimpered, trying to hold the water in your mouth. the spanks made it hard to not choke on it or have to drip out of your mouth. the bubbles of it made you feel discomfort in your face. but you had to be good.

"but not me. i'd never do that to you." he said softly, "you are my treasure. you know there's rules, that you have to be well behaved for me. or else we're going to have problems. you're my girlfriend, my love, my submissive." he landed a few more spanks across your ass, he watched your body shake with each of his slaps. but you didn't spill a drop.

the knowledge of that made george smile to himself. it wasn't hard to train you to be an amazing sub, you were always so eager to make him proud. you took your punishments with grace. he landed a few more smacks across your ass, "but you are my whore in the end. my responsibility to teach and fuck." he groped your bruised ass which made you whine.

you kicked out your legs as if you were trying to say that you weren't a whore. that you were a good girl, but it was only met with another hard smack across your cheeks. you arched your back and whined more.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said as a warning. he took you by the jaw to look at him. your craned your neck to get a good look at your prince charming. he smiled, "swallow. then hands and knees."

you swallowed and nodded happily. and like a good girl, you opened your mouth to show you swallowed it all. you earned a pat on the cheek, which made you melt a little. you got off his lap, leaving pussy slick across his black slacks.

george noticed it and chuckled lightly before he started to unbutton his shirt. you were a messy little slut, but george adored you. he was only rough because he knew it was best for you. you were a smart girl, you just needed reminders. once he was out of his clothes, he saw you with your hips raised. ready for him as always.

"my beautiful girl." he said as got himself behind you on his knees. he admired your beauty from behind. he could feel the heat of the bruises on your ass when he placed his hand across one of the cheeks. oh, you were perfect for him, "see, norris could never have you like this. no, no. he wouldn't know what do with himself. he'd probably finish before he started." he chuckled as he gave your ass a pat. he pushed his cock all the way into you, you were beyond soaked that it was so easy for him

he started to move his hips, he pushed you into the covers by your shoulders and had the perfect angle to fuck you. you looked so pretty as you took him. you really were a good girl, the farthest thing from a whore. but he knew it excited you when your prince charming, george russell, called you such sick names. it made you hot all over, just as when he fucked you with heavy thrusts.

"ah, george. sir." you arched your back as he hit the softest parts of you. you felt like a dream, you were a fairy tale princess. from your cute face to how you dressed. to how you were good with everyone but always perfect for george. you took his cock perfectly, made for him like you came from pages of a story. it was why he need to fuck you was always so strong.

"perfect little whore." he said, his voice tinged with praise.

you moved a little bit and felt your knees start to hurt from the feeling of it all. you felt a thump in your chest from his words. you held onto the pillow under your head. your ass stung from the feeling of the previous slaps.

"see what happens when you behave. you know i'll take care of you. always, but you have to remember our rules. they're to keep you safe. you are the most important thing to me. that's why i hate when you're a whore." he continued to thrust up against you.

you believed him. that was why you put so much trust into him.he never steered you wrong. you loved him so much. and he loved you, even when he called you names in the safety of your bedroom, you loved him more than anything.

his thrusts were focused and they made you squirm. it made it feel like he was nudging up into your stomach and it took the air out of you. your pussy was a fit for him.

you held onto the covers with your back arched. you panted heavily into them. everything was hot in your body, you panted heavily into the sheets. "please, sir."

"you know i love you, and this all happens because i love you so much. and i know how good you could be for me." he said hotly into your ear, keeping you pinned to the bed.

the blood rush made your toes curled and you came with your hands buried in the soft sheets of your shared bed. you gasped into the pillow and you back arched. it was all too much, you almost had tears in your eyes.

he finished after you did, then slowly came to a stop. he pushed his entire length into you and bottomed out in you. he shuddered and coughed out a moan. his grip on you was tight. and you came once more from the intensity of it all. the sparks in your brain came alive.

your back arched as you felt him slow down and stop. you both tried to catch your breath before george pulled out and wrapped himself up around you. he got the covers over you and kissed at your face with love.

"do you need water?" being a good dom meant aftercare. especially from such a production. he peppered your face with kisses and held you in his arms, "i think there's something in the fridge you could snack on."

you looked at him and cupped his face gently, you said with half-lidded eyed, "just some water. when i can think again maybe a shower, sir."

he kissed your lips and said, "perfect, good. my good girl." even with the bruises across your ass, you felt on cloud nine. there really was nothing like having a dom. especially the kind like george. your prince charming <3

[loves4ge]

jealousy, jealousy

gojo satoru x gn!reader

established relationship

gojo satoru is a menace.

"toru, stop glaring." your voice is low, a strained smile stretched out as you whisper through your teeth. your grip on his arm tightens towards the end of your sentence.

satoru, however, makes the decision to ignore you and opted to pat your hand on his arm lightly. as if he was acknowledging a comment you made on the weather or the little tea cakes the venue was serving rather than placating you while he glared at your coworker.

or ex-coworker, you think. maybe he'd die by satoru's hands tonight. you shudder to think of it; imagine all the blood.

"erm, it was a pleasure to meet you," your coworker says, features pulled tight in discomfort. you wanted to scream.

"shame. i wish i could say the same about you." silence.

your hold on his arm became suffocating. satoru didn't flinch.

your coworker, flustered, turned to you and murmured a goodbye. he spun on his heel and left.

"satoru, care to explain what just happened?" you release his arm, your own crossing over your chest. the glare he wore melts into a grin as one corner of his lips turns higher than the other. god, you hate when he grinned. you couldn't stay mad at him long when he did.

"jus' protecting my baby." he says it like it's an accomplishment. something he'd put on his resume (he would). maybe you should monitor his linkedin for a while. for the foreseeable future at least.

"satoru, not everyone who knows me is in love with me. please understand that." this is ridiculous.

"he might not be in love with you. maybe he just wants to hit." you raise your eyebrows at that.

"that is a truly appalling statement, baby. look, all you have to do is say hi to my coworkers, ask them about family or work or the weather. that's it. if they want to hit," you pause, feeling weird about saying it aloud, "they can either talk to me and i can turn them down or they can wallow in their feelings forever. either way, i don't care."

satoru's hands creep lower and lower down your back. he tries listening to your words but they blur in his mind. all he can think about is that guy. with his tattoos. and black hair. and fucking blue eyes. he knows that's your favourite feature of his. he might just have to kill every blue eyed person he comes across. god, geto's psychotic tendencies were rubbing off on him. if people could read minds, he'd be dragged off to an asylum.

and then the audacity he had to call you by your name. your first name. and so sweetly. it made him sick.

you had stopped talking when you realized he wasn't listening. you sigh, moving in closer into his space. his hands automatically place themselves at your lower back. then they slip further down. he squeezes, lightly. he takes note of your styled hair, and remembers when he hugged you earlier before entering the venue. you hair smelled nice. he'd have to ask you which shampoo you used today.

"hey?" his eyes snap to yours.

"yeah?"

"love you, satoru."

he grins.

"i know." your mouth forms a half pout and a half frown. you try to glare at him but you don't have a good pretend frown. you never could be mad at him for long, and it's harder to set your foot down when your anger's all worn off.

"say it back, bitch."

he kisses you instead. in the middle of event. the place wasn't exactly jam-packed and apparently this kiss was the most exciting thing the attendees were subjected to since the event started two hours ago. you could feel eyes on you. so many eyes.

you grab his collar, and kiss him back harder. his tongue swipes your lip. you try biting his. his smile presses against your mouth. cheeky. he pulls back, panting.

"i love you too."

[court-jobi]

Tagalong

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @toshiimura))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (retired by injury pro-hero fem!reader)

Words: 2.6K

Rating: T (18+ touches later on, to be safe~)

Warnings: Interrupted first time, heavy petting, established relationship, sharing a bed, honestly just Izuku in love and fluffy times commence in a hotel room.

Summary:

Joining Midoriya Sensei on his work trip -and yes, even sharing a bed for the first time- is medicine for you. The exchange of your passions has -and continues to be- an endless source of healing as you navigate life post-hero work. Each night away, you've danced into a settled calm with him; learning the rhythm of his habits. His sounds, his silences. When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way.

A/N: give me my sweet, simpering Deku, or give me death. Also by the way, yall are the best readers out there, thank you so much for all the love for my lil stories!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Life post-hero work was an adjustment for you… but you were starting to really get into the perks.

The lack of daily physical hardship holds the top spot on your list. PT? You can handle that on a rolling basis– the worst is behind you, and due to what you put yourself through which resulted in your injury, you’re out of official hero work for the foreseeable future- and in a way, grateful for the break on your muscles. You still retain your quirk, but can enjoy its thrills on a more recreational basis– your sweet boyfriend has even helped your healing by way of gentle exercises to keep things moving properly and get life manageable for you. 

Next would be the diet. You could certainly dip back into your baking hobby guilt-free now. You couldn’t get away from the hero world entirely -nor did you want to… but being able to settle into an agency office with an hourly job was also an incredible blessing. Late nights here and there were inevitable, but on the whole, you were able to greet and end your days with a steadiness of routine and safety.

Meeting Izuku Midoriya was the icing on your early retirement cake. Where you were tenderly finding your footing off the hero charts, Izuku held your hand to keep you upright. He didn’t lead or pull back on you– just came alongside you, so you didn’t fall too hard on the knees of self-doubt. He’s always so good like that. He knows your path because he himself shares it, and what a thing of fate that is.

New to you now though, is the general scope of free time you have. Not a forced flexibility due to the demand asked of an on-call hero, but you have paid time off. You have flex hours. You can work from home, if you so choose– so when you get the call that Izuku has been asked to hold a spot at the Sports Festival as the lead commentator, you are over the moon that you can answer with a wholehearted ‘yes’ when he asks you to come with him.

As if he’d be anything short of ecstatic, you truly believe the job was made for him. He’s got books upon books of hero research written by hand, and is essentially a walking Brittanica for Japan’s up and coming heroes, because of course he watches every other school’s sports fests in his free time so that his class can be the most prepared. Taking the role Present Mic once held when he was a student is a full-circle moment, and it's pretty precious seeing him in it. 

From day one, he’s a master of his craft, and from the couch you share in the observation deck with his co-teacher, Aizawa, you’re beyond impressed. You honestly wouldn’t be able to tell what department he was aligned with; he’s observant and complimentary of every students’ moves. You asked the pro hero hero beside you if this was the case when Izuku was younger, and he merely offered a sleepy,

“Intolerably, yes.”

But you see the lift of his cheek against his eyepatch and know that he’s secretly proud. 

The Sports Festival spreads over the course of a week now, as the culture surrounding the events available for support students to engage in has increased- to Izuku’s pride and joy. The training and feats of the heroes wouldn’t be possible without the other side of the coin, so he’s just as enthusiastic to hype up the developments of those courses as well. 

Watching your sweet Izuku -catching his eye when he looks back over to you and silently ushers you over to come watch an anticipated match-up of his kids off and on- is medicine for you. This entire exchange of passions has, and continues to be, a source of joy for you and is a treasured part of doing life with him. On that note, the event being held away from your district also grants you extended time to spend together that you normally wouldn’t, given the difference in your professional lives. Here, you’re locked in to five days and four nights of perfectly synced time– something you’ve not been able to do up to this point in your relationship.

Falling asleep and waking up together? This is the best thing ever.

On the first night, it hits your adorably flustered boyfriend that you’d indeed be sharing a room- and bed. That arrangement was something you’d registered the moment he’d asked you and were assuming he’d mentally (and spiritually) prepared for; but evidently it faced him the moment he stepped up to the counter to check in that Nezu had arranged you both to be together by default in the hotel block. 

But rather than falling on the trope of taking the armchair or sleeping on the ground like a middle school nervous nelly, Izuku was shy about it at first… but eager for the chance. The secret part of him finally let out some boyish excitement to find a bed big enough for you to actually share. You’d learned here that you both can spoon like you do on the couch, but you have so much room now. On both your parts, you’re a bit giggly and stiff at first- but settle in sweetly for the most comfortable night of your life.

By the second night, you both scoot into your room and -after a day of dancing around each other at more and more events- you’d be heard from the hallway: jumping into his arms and tackling him to the bed, filled with giggles and lots of kissing until you tangle up more willingly to sleep.

Night three, you’d both stayed out longer than you intended; catching up with some of the other instructors, which turned into essentially a repeat of the night you met. You take to talking up a storm on one of the hotel patios in a nerdy exchange of info-dumping and story-swapping that continues for almost three hours. You basically collapsed into bed the instant you got back, not even brushing your teeth out of exhaustion. Then by your fourth, you both are still so tired from the late night before and you flop on the bed, still in the sun-warmed clothes you set out in that morning.

It's so nice to be held by him- and it's torture to then look back up at each other. There’s definitely a softness found in Izuku’s face -as always, when it comes to your perfectly freckled sweetheart- but also something deep and personal. You want to ask him to shower together so badly and get rid of the day together- anything to add to this closeness you’ve been tiptoe-ing through all week. Worry over pushing him when he’s essentially on the clock keeps you from asking. This time, you still go about your rituals separately, only when you get out, you stay in a towel and shorts instead of full dressing down for bed.

When you're at the in-suite mirror doing your expedited, travel-sized skincare routine and Izuku stops by after he's out of the bathroom, he hesitates mid-step from trying to duck around you– and comes close, holds you by the middle. He stands shirtless behind you for the first time, showing you the scarring he carries in its fullest- no more tanks or undershirts hiding the worst from you. 

You’re as they say in the movies- incandescently happy.

“You smell so good,” he whispers. 

“You feel so good,” you answer. “Wanna go lay down?”

When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way. No sense in holding this darn towel up anymore, you simply turn in his arms, drop it, and kiss his surprise away with your reach up to his neck for a kiss. Your first of many, on this last night you could be wrapped up in your incredible boyfriend's arms with nothing but tender intentions on your mind.

Neither of you see a strong need for too many clothes under the sheets for this little foray into skin-to-skin contact, and enjoy a restorative makeout session. He's marked you up a bit, too, by all the harsh kissing he tends to do towards you (you low-key love this, since ‘that’s what makeup’s for’), and you especially appreciate how he plays with you perched in this arrangement.

You’re the first girl he's ever had topless in his reach– which is obvious from how he holds you in his lap nuzzling at your chest,

"Wow, y'r the moss'beautiful woman i'vever seen~"

From your previous talks of dalliances, you proudly keen over him, "I think I'm the only naked woman you've ever seen."

"-I've seen naked women."

You glance back to him, humored but flat, "Who."

Those green doe eyes flicker back up at you, oddly innocent as he quickly names his former classmate, who you’ve commonly heard referred to as Yaomomo, 

“Creati?” he tries to jog your memory, “i-it's part of her quirk, I didn't ev’r mean to look..."

Playfully suspicious, you test him, "Never had a feel?"

"I mean,” Izuku sharpens up a little to answer clearly, “She fell on me once, over in one of the training centers- and I wasn't gonna let her hit or head on something.."

"So a 'strategic catch'. Is that what we're calling it?" You sway your chest in front of him, feeling up his own, “I’m a horribly jealous creature, as you well know.”

He sinks and nuzzles gently at your pushed up chest- by his desire for lift. You’re playing with his painfully polite nature, of course- nothing but secure of your place with him.

"Not even once. Promise." 

Izuku lays a little kiss on your freshly cleaned skin where your heart lies under the surface, and ends up moaning at how soft it is- and so, keeps peppering kisses to your delight, "Oh wow... Oh wow, you're soft."

His name leaves you in an unsteady sigh as you’ve been scratching through his hair until it starts feeling so sharp and heady that you grip onto his neck in need of more support.

He's working on some passes with his tongue around your nipple when he whisper-sighs up to you, 

"mmmm don't stop doing tha'..."

So you play with his hair at his request, and he adores every bit of you that’s in reach: chin to cheek to neck while being the most gently vocal you've ever heard him.

The minute you rolled your barely clothed hips up on his lap just once, he split his attention from holding your waist to him to smoothing over your thigh to encourage the movement.

He started a slinking lean as he did so, losing his absolute mind watching you in a daze, before something dull hit your window - followed by a kid’s call of 'Sorry!!' . You siphon all your attention at the noise in a wide-eyed look that matches his.

Sweetly enough, you noted how fast Izuku held you at the sound, like he was going into strict ‘protect’ mode at the clash of a frisbee.

But, out of danger and out of breath, Izuku simply fell back and palmed his face.

"ughhbyou feel'so good... Mdizzy."

The heat you’d felt simmering in you has died at the interruption, but your fondness sure hasn’t.

You giggled, lowering into his chest and gripping the covers over your shoulders to warm you up, "Good dizzy?"

Even with an arm over his eye, your boy chuckled brilliantly, 

"Very good dizzy, hon’. Whew. We uh– we better stop before they start bangin’ on the door next."

You carded through his hair more, self-assured he was still just as taken by you despite the hard stop. How he kept you to him while shuffling the covers over you both was proof he didn’t want you going anywhere. Once settled, he felt he could focus again and brushed your hair back for attention,

"Hi there, handsome~"

"h-hi~" Izuku echoed.

You kissed again, a good deal calmer at first, but growing like a steady fire. Lips roaming, claiming, and keeping you ever closer. Comfort and reclaimed eagerness tipped you over by his strong guiding hand, all in favor to continue to mouth along your clavicle again.

Then, at the first sound of your addictive moans, he detached- forehead to your sternum, watching the rise and fall of your sweet belly beneath him.

"Ahh..” Izuku’s little war with himself was adorable, “w-we should stop. For real. I can’t- that’d be mean."

“You said that,” you answer with mirth, “but I don’t think ‘Little Deku’ agrees~”

Izuku wheezes out your first, middle, last and retired hero title to the point of coughing before you take it easy on him. Poor, desperate thing, brought low by little tease.

You chuffed against his stroke of nerves kindly. 

"Yes we should, if you say so," You snaked a hand through his hair, "Thank the Maker we don't have to second guess the chemistry department, huh?"

Izuku laughed brightly, slotting himself atop you, between the legs so you didn't have to feel how semi-hard he was. Snuggling back down, your heartbeats held their own conversation, content to cool to a reasonable temperature and slow things down, together.

"I'm so glad you came here with me." Izuku spoke softly to your neck, "This time with you really does me so much good."

And you really have enjoyed it. Getting to see firsthand the place where much of his proving of himself started, this event forged a lot of bonds with the close friends he still has to this day. 

"I'm glad I did too," You kissed the hairline within reach and simply laid comforting scratches along his back. "It's gonna be hell to go back."

"You don't wanna go back to work?"

You threw pity into your voice, "I don't wanna give up this glorified sleepover, no."

You don’t mean just getting carried away with thin walls and thinner restraint. You mean the intimacy that getting out of town sometimes offers in a way nothing else would. The week has made you softer, more in tune to the rhythm of Izuku’s habits. His sounds, his silences. 

The dampened shyness you hold thinking about it floats across him, so he laid back onto your arm to look up at you, 

"We don't have to. We can still have them~"

"Yeah?" You wonder how, earnestly, and he smiles in kind.

"Yeah!” his answer radiates nothing but pure sunshine, “Whenever you want! I'll come over, and we'll cook, and have podcast nights and snuggle, and... and.."

He’s got a look now- one that teeters along the line of flirty and unsure.

"Snuggle?" you finish for him mercifully.

"Y-yeah."

"Vocal snuggles?"

"Stop it," Izuku hid in your shoulder, "don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you~" you turned and kissed his blushing cheeks, rubbing his shoulder slowly. "No more than I'm making fun of myself for sounding like a wonton Victorian who just caught sight of an ankle for the first time."

His laughter betrays how offended he is at the idea, "Stoooop…"

"Mmmm, I don't think I will!"

Time to take things slow.. that might top your list now. If it means more nights with your hero draped in your arms, then the promise of time spent under his attention beats out any other remedy you’ve found so far. 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin celebrating his gn s/o's birthday please?

Astarion

In truth, Astarion has never celebrated a birthday before; or at least one he can remember in the past 200 years.

He of course knows about birthdays and what people usually do. Celebrations at the local taverns on such occasions were easy to pick off just…not the guest of honor. Astarion felt that would be tacky.

His gift would be something small. Memorable. A ring or necklace his love would always wear to think of him. And seeing them wear it make Astarion feel like he in turn finally has something of his own. Ending with a night of passion which, for once, he truly deeply means. Sweet words and all.

Gale

Gale would be planning for your birthday for months. Either in secret, or an attempt at keeping a secret because he’s just so excited.

He creates a new version of his Starlight incantation. One that is more reminiscent of their current living arrangements, but with hints of the forest where he first professed his love for them. A blend of the old and the new, to remember their past & look forward to the future, he said.

Besides the illusions, Gale makes them a very real dinner of their favorite meal and a cake to rival even some of the finest bakers in the Gate or the Deep. He also gives them a journal, hoping that it will be a comfort to them to write down their thoughts but also one day help with the novel on their adventures he’s going to write.

Wyll

Despite not celebrating many birthdays in recent years, Wyll actually loves them. He is of the opinion that every year, surviving, growing, and moving on in the world, should be celebrated.

The day would be spent more for quality time. Taking a (hopefully) peaceful walk. Maybe a little hunting for dinner, if they can’t find a tavern on the way. Gazing up at the stars as night falls, with Wyll pointing out his favorite constellations that are only visible this time of year (and therefore must be a gift for them from the gods themselves).

His gift would be a small blade he had fashioned for them. Naming it ‘the Protector of the Blade’s Heart’ since they are Wyll’s heart and this will protect them. They also get the finest rendition of ‘happy birthday’ an aspiring bard turned adventure his lungs can handle.

+Ascended!Astarion

Once he finds out when their birthday is, never really having asked before as it was of no interest to him until now, Astarion makes great effort to have it be the most memorable birthday ever. Everyone should be celebrating when his consort graced the universe with their beauty, and they should have a party that would dwarf all others in their past; now that they are at his side.

He throws a grand ball every year. Themed, perfectly executed, nobles & dark affiliates from all over come to pay tribute to them across Faerun.

It wasn’t until year’s later that they realize that the date had slowly changed from their birthday to their ‘new birthday’. The day they became a vampire.

First where there was one party, then two, now there is only one again for the new date.

Astarion insists, at first, that it’s just a fluke of scheduling. Too many meetings with his dark horde or aristocracy to make it work. Suddenly they are traveling during their birthday and can’t do the party.

Eventually, Astarion admits that your original birthday is pointless. “Why do you need to remember that when you have been reborn with this new life, my treasure?” And thus Astarion had successfully changed your birthday to your deathday, as it were.

[you-know-honey]

Risky Moves

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Chapter Summary: A secret experiment and a punishment at the academy end up conspiring to bring Jayce, his partner, and you together in the same place, and a half-lie will shape the path of their future.

Series: The Path to Zaun

Past Part / Next Part

A/N: English isn't my first language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll update it. Remember to share if you liked it. Sorry for the delay but the holiday season is full of work.

That morning started out as a beautiful day, the sun spilling down all the streets and reflecting off almost all the buildings in Piltover, perfect for doing anything but going to class.

“Oh come on, I thought you liked that class” Sky said beside you, both of you had seen outside the dorms and took advantage of the walk to their classrooms to catch up.

“I like the class, but my classmates are asymptomatic smarts” You complained, moving your hands in exasperation, it wasn’t long before your wrist creaked and a grimace of pain was reflected on your face. You remembered perfectly how you had won that.

Sky just laughed with the softness of a kitten. She was very used to seeing you be very expressive, if your mouth didn’t say it your face spoke for you and she simply enjoyed the show, it seemed cute to her. It was something she had seen you do since you were little and it reminded her of the times when things were less complicated, at least in her childish eyes.

“What happened to you?” She asked as he saw you holding your wrist.

“It’s just a little discomfort, don’t worry.” You offered her a calming smile. Sky didn’t believe your words at all, you weren’t that kind of clumsy, but she knew you would tell him when you were ready.

It had been weeks since your little escape with Jayce to undercity, you hadn’t seen him since then, not at the academy or walking down the street. You had passed by his apartment several times by mere chance, your feet simply dragging you to his street every time you left the academy. Your mind kept thinking about whether all those things you had managed to get had really been of any use to him for his secret project, you wished he would need things again, even though you didn’t want to admit it, it had been fun going out with him, running through the streets, returning to your native home without being alone. Of course there was still a thorn of poison in that memory and it had a name, Finn, you didn't expect to see him again, just thinking about his stupid smile made you clench your fist again, you would hit him again even if it broke every part of your hand just to permanently erase that stupid smile.

“Okay, we’re here.” Sky said, pressing her notebooks to her chest before giving you a big hug goodbye.

“You’re leaving already?” You asked like a puppy who was about to be abandoned, you wished you had taken advantage of the time on the way to chat instead of getting lost in your thoughts. But it was too late and you were already in front of her classroom door.

“Can we have a girls’ afternoon tomorrow, tea and cakes?” Your face lit up, your friend could only let out a delicate laugh before giving you a kiss on the cheek and breaking the hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything… in your room?” you mentioned putting your hands in your pockets, rocking on your heels. She confirmed it with a sweet nod of her head.

Sky was about to enter the classroom after some students but she turned quickly “I almost forgot, here.” She handed you what you could only describe as a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a notebook with leather covers, cyan blue and gold details.

“Wait what?” You asked as you took it in your hands as if it were a red-hot iron.

“I saw it in a store and it reminded me of you, I hope you like it.” She seemed to enjoy your reaction quite a bit. You were so unaccustomed to receiving gifts that you even refused to accept one. “Maybe it’s worthy of being used in your research.”

“But Sky…” You were left speechless to respond, something that Sky took advantage of and entered the room quickly, leaving you alone in the hallway.

A smile crossed your face from ear to ear, as your fingers wandered over the cover of the notebook, it seemed expensive and even if you tried to rack your brain you couldn’t find a way for it to give off any vibe of you. But that was Sky, out of nowhere she would appear at your door with a hand-knitted scarf or some freshly baked cookies without giving a damn that she had to climb the stairs to the top floor, she seemed to simply sense when something was wrong in your life and would appear to offer you a helping hand.

It was something that happened since you were both little, when you ran away to go to her parents' house to pretend you still had a sweet childhood, where you could feel loved and cared for. More than best friends, she felt like a sister, the good half of your whole life. And that made you have no idea what to put in such a nice gift, your notes about your research were barely legible even for you, pages of theories, data, horrible crossed out lines and torn pages, giving the same fate to such a nice notebook would be like slapping Sky. You would wait, you would wait for something incredible that was worth putting in it.

You continued on your way to class, putting the beautiful notebook in your bag. You knew it wouldn't be an easy day when you could hear a loud commotion inside from the beginning of the hallway. When you entered, Professor Heimerdinger was trying to quiet everyone down, but no one seemed to take the cute yordle seriously, so you decided to give him a little help, slamming the door as hard as you could to close it. All eyes immediately turned to you.

“Oh,” the yordle jumped. “Welcome to class, dear Y/N,” the professor said when he saw you and with one of his small furry hands he motioned for you to sit down.

“Oh, perfect, just what we needed, the misfit has arrived.” one of your classmates murmured as you passed by his table. Others laughed a little under their breath, no one was stupid enough to play along in front of the professor.

“Errik! That language is unacceptable in class!” Heimerdinger quickly reprimanded, the boy just rolled his eyes. “That merited an apology to your classmate.” The professor always fought to keep the peace, no matter how difficult it was.

The boy grimaced before speaking. “I’m sorry for having said such an apt comment about you.”

“Errik!” Heimerdinger scolded again.

“Its okay, professor.” You didn’t want any more attention than you were already getting. “An insult only hurts if it comes from someone admirable, if not, it’s nothing more than envy.” You said as you sat in the first row of tables, next to the window so the air currents would cool you down. The professor seemed to want to say something else, but gave up and decided to continue with the class.

You didn’t care what someone like Errik said, he was the fourth nephew of Councilman Hoskel and apparently low intellect was a dominant gene in that family. You had become the object of his mockery after the last boy he annoyed left the academy, he was basically an untouchable fly, leaving his bacteria on everything and no one would do anything to respect him, not even Heimerdinger himself could give him anything more than a mild scolding. So the best thing was to bite your tongue and try to evade his provocations as best you could, advice that the same teacher had given you along with a long apology for not being able to reprimand him properly.

You would never be on equal terms after all, everyone had someone powerful who watched their back in case they made a mistake, you only had your excessive sarcasm and confidence to defend you and that, well... wasn't much use in Piltover.

You had left blood and tears on the road to even be considered to enter the academy, more exceptional than the average applicant, but not enough to be able to apply for more important careers. So you were stuck with some students really interested in biology and spoiled brats who just wanted to brag about having studied there.

Professor Heimerdinger took advantage of the small silence and started the class, climbing up tiny stairs to reach the blackboard, moving his chalk with agility and speed.

“Well class, I have noticed that no student of this faculty has presented an idea as a project. I must not repeat that without that project the grade of some of you will be severely affected. So we will fix that today” The professor came down the stairs with a small jump “With a brainstorm” his eyes seemed quite excited and by his tone I expected that at least one or another would respond with that same emotion.

Unfortunately the only thing you could do was evoke a smile and a look of support in a sea of tired and indifferent faces. You knew your grades wouldn't be affected in the slightest and honestly, an extra project wouldn't hurt, it would be the perfect excuse to get materials in a less suspicious way.

“Tough audience” the yordle muttered “Okay, then each of you will come forward with an idea, no matter how crazy it is, think big!” he said as he sat down behind his desk.

The whole activity took up a lot of the morning. Not all of them seemed like bad ideas to you, of course some were fantastic and really crazy but really interesting. When your turn came, you walked like the others to the front, you took a breath before speaking. “Replacing the gas streetlights with bioluminescent elements, in the mines of undercity there are mushrooms that shine brightly, it would be a safe and natural way to light up the nights in the cities” the professor seemed quite attracted by your idea and the whispering of your classmates gave you the indication that you were on the right track.

“Ha!” a fake laugh came from Errik’s seat “You can get the rat out of the sewer but not the sewer of the rat”

“Excuse me?” You said through your teeth, clenching your fists behind your back.

The professor’s ears lowered. “Y/N…”

“How do you plan to bring those dirty mushrooms here? Have you even thought that they could be toxic?” Errik asked with the clear intention of discrediting your proposal.

“We will go down to take samples and study them in the laboratory” You answered, it wasn't something complicated to do.

But as soon as the rest of the group heard about going down to undercity it was as if everyone had suddenly stopped their spirits and perhaps not so secretly that offended you.

“Are you crazy or do you take too many drugs? Nobody wants to go down to that dump!” His words were supported by cowardly looks “And help them? This is a project for the city of progress!”

That was enough for you, for your patience and for your pride, it was seconds in the middle of the disaster. The ground shook, the entire classroom moved, some students even fell to the ground. The sound of an explosion in the city resonated in everyone's ears and blue particles floated through the window in the wind. You were the victim of an unknown force, as if a bolt of pure adrenaline had split you in half, traveling through your spine and leaving your brain collapsed. While everyone looked at each other due to the noise of the explosion and helped each other to stand up, you took the eraser from the board and with a lucky aim you managed to throw it with all your strength towards Errik's throat.

“You miserable son of a bitch! I'm going to rip your guts out with a corkscrew if you say one more word about Zaun, you ignorant bastard!” You didn't know how, but you were on his table, holding Errik's shirt collar while a thick drop of blood ran down his nose, his eyes had become moist and his gaze only reflected a scared big mouth bitch. It was the first time you pronounced the name that Undercity had given itself as a promise of freedom for the next generation, that name was something that any inhabitant of above hated to hear. A symbol of rebellion.

“Y/N!” Heimerdinger scolded. “Please let him go!”

His voice made you react, letting go reluctantly, feeling like your fingers had gone numb in the grip. Errik quickly moved away with his hand on his neck.

“Professor, look!” One of your classmates shouted, pointing to the window, the entire class ran to see what was happening. You tried to go too, but your body felt heavy and dizzy so you had to push your way through to look.

“Oh for the gods…” The teacher murmured when he managed to look out the window.

A giant cloud of smoke rose over a building in the academic district between flames and the sound of firefighters and police. The entire class was shocked and they whispered among themselves what could have caused that. But your mind was stuck on a single fact. From the height you knew that street, you knew that building and even more importantly, you knew who lived there.

“Jayce…” your heart was hit by anguish and worry.

“Professor Heimerdinger!” a policeman flung open the door, drawing everyone’s attention. “The council urgently requests your presence.”

The little yordle moved his whiskers in surprise. “I understand…” he gently massaged his chin. “It seems serious. Please inform the others that classes are cancelled today and that all students are prohibited from leaving the academy.”

A group “What?!” spread throughout the classroom.

“Please escort them to their rooms,” the yordle continued.

Despite the complaints, each student heeded his words and lined up in front of the door. You were still at the window with almost half of your body out of it, waiting to see at least a sign of life.

“Y/N...” the teacher said heavily when it was your turn to leave the classroom, you walked to the door still looking towards the window “Not you” the policeman just closed the door in your face before leaving.

Your face frowned before relaxing to look down and face the teacher. His face only showed that he was looking for the wisest and most thoughtful way to let you have the scolding.

“My dear, violence is never the answer, not even in the most frustrating moments…”

“I know, it wasn't my intention, it was…” he stopped you with a sign of his hand.

“Hitting another student not only puts the harmony of the academy community at risk, but also your own progress. I know you want to help yours. But how can we advance as innovators if we don't learn to cross the sea of frustration? True greatness lies in controlling our emotions and using our intelligence to build, not destroy.”

He was right, he always had the right words and you knew it. To argue with him or turn it into a fight would be ridiculous, so you just nodded shyly, hands clasped in front of you.

“I understand professor, I’m very sorry for what I caused.” The embarrassment was clear in your voice to the chagrin of your pride.

“You will understand that I must give you an exemplary punishment.” You averted your gaze, you had already expected something like that. “But you are my best student in this faculty, and since there is an emergency call from the council I don’t think they will pay much attention.” He cleared his throat. “So I will ask you to stay late today and organize tomorrow’s class.”

“Understood,” you said, something like what you had normally done would put expulsion on the table. You were glad it wasn’t like that.

The professor walked towards the door and before closing it behind him, he gave you a few last words: “As for your graduation project…you better postpone it a bit, at least until Councilman Hoskel forgets that you hit his nephew.”

“What?!” You didn’t even know what to say when the door closed, leaving you standing alone in an empty room, just like your hopes. The only sensible thing to do was to let yourself fall to the ground, a stupid fool in a thousand different ways.

The day passed with the afternoon until it reached night, you took a long breath, dropping the pen into the inkwell when you finally finished the punishment that Heimerdinger imposed on you. You had taken as long as you could, writing each letter meticulously just so you could have an excuse and waste time. You stood up abruptly from the teacher's desk, dragging your feet to the windowsill, the cold air of the city making your skin crawl and almost pushing you back inside.

From the window you looked at all of Piltover, every building and every person that was now nothing more than a lost point in the night only illuminated by streetlights that looked more like fireflies from above.

“I'm so… idiotic…” you hit your head against the cold stone behind your back, hugging yourself, just to receive at least some peace of mind. “What the hell happened to me?” You weren't usually violent, at least not at the academy, that outburst was so surprising that you yourself didn't expect it.

You weren't ready to go back to your dorm, see the wall full of terrariums and know that you had ruined everything in a fit of rage that you didn't know where it came from. You had always been agile at dodging Errik's insults no matter how painful they really were, but this time you basically painted a target on your chest. You looked at your hand, the same one you used to throw that eraser straight at his throat. Where had that strength, that anger, come from? You had no idea, again you fell into a hole that you had brought upon yourself by recklessness. Again stagnant like a piece of wood that begins to rot among the garbage in the sewers and by the time it is released it will have already sunk in the dirty water...

You scolded yourself, saying that next time you would be smarter, that next time you would be more prepared. Your mouth opened but no words came out from between your lips other than a warm puff of breath. Your mind wanted to free itself from the torment in which you were submerging yourself, an escape, a fleeting one that would take away your feelings for a while, at least until you knew how to deal with them. Your vocal cords vibrated, even for your ears it was strange to hear yourself sing again, if you closed your eyes you could even see yourself still on that old, damp stage, with the pink and purple lights above you, with the slow and sad music rumbling against your eardrums until it silenced the laughter of the drunks, a way of reminding you how far away from that life you were now. A spectator in the interrupted life of that girl on the stage full of lace and transparent tights reminding you that if there was someone for whom you had to bet everything it was yourself.

“Am I interrupting something?” You quickly wiped away the tears you didn’t know you have, when you heard a soft female voice from the half-open door. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“No…” you said but the tremble in your voice didn’t help your cause at all.

Councilwoman Medarda showed herself, the moonlight illuminating her silhouette from head to toe, she walked towards you with the same elegance of a princess and to your not very enlightened imagination in that regard, she looked just like a pretentious cat. Even though it was ridiculous at this point you still had a shred of dignity to preserve, so you pretended that the darkness of the night outside was more important. The councilwoman dragged her soft hand across the teacher’s desk, caressing the perfectly ordered papers you had arranged.

“Is that song yours?” You nodded in response, the giggle she let out made you immediately turn to look at her.

“Are you amused, councilwoman?” You asked, jumping down from the windowsill with a attitude that stopped the woman from walking.

“Not at all” he said again with his soft tone and a smile on his lips, approaching you with the air of superiority, classic of the advice “But it's hilarious to me that someone with your talent would waste it in these four walls” His hand embraced your cheek, caressing your cheekbone.

You took a step back, moving away from his touch. You didn't expect him to get so close and even less that he would dare to touch you with such sweetness.

Your voice wasn't something that mattered much to you, you knew that it was at least comfortable to listen to but it wasn't your passion, it was a gift that you didn't ask for and that didn't satisfy your soul, if you thought about it, it had even brought more problems.

“Mhmm…” your evasive response to her touch forces her to focus on something else, she looked at the blackboard, it wasn’t long before she sensed that your presence in that classroom was the work of a punishment “It took you so long?” she was provoking you.

“I had my reasons” you weren’t willing to reveal much more.

“You missed an interesting judgment” she sighed resignedly “That boy had so much potential,It's a shame that he was expelled. What a tragedy…”

“Expelled?” as soon as you opened your mouth you knew you fell into her trap, her feline eyes quickly picked up on the concern in your voice and pulled that thread a little further.

“That’s right, Mr. Jayce Talis was officially deemed a danger to the academy community for carrying illegal and dangerous material.” With the click of her heels she turned around ignoring you to play the pen you had left inside the inkwell. Which you were grateful for, so she wouldn’t see your nails digging into your palms.

“Is… is he okay?” you asked.

“He looked devastated at the trial, I doubt he’s better now.” You couldn’t believe how her voice still exuded grace despite such news not being a joy at all. “Did you know him?”

“No.” you rushed to answer, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t have given a damn about the news and you wouldn’t have shown even a shred of interest, maybe you would have even made fun of him for being discovered. But you had led him to get all that illegal trash and part of you felt responsible for his expulsion although of course it’s not like you would admit it in front of anyone, you didn’t want to run the same fate. “Why is he here?” You asked, maybe something you should have done from the beginning.

“Can’t I just walk around the academy?” she asked but got no response from you so she resigned herself to a sigh and slumped her shoulders before returning to her elegant posture. “Anyway, if you want to do something more than sing to an empty room, call me.” She approached you and from somewhere on her dress she pulled out a card, name and address on it, marked in gold. “And I will make Piltover die to hear you.” She said against your ear, leaving the card in your hands as if it were a secret. “Think about it, it’s a great opportunity…”

With a smile she walked away again towards the door.

“Why are you giving me this?” you asked incredulously.

“Because I see potential. It would be a shame if it was wasted,” she answered from the door frame. “Shall we walk together?”

The echo of Mel's heels resonated in the empty hallway as you tried to keep up with her. Despite her elegance, the councilwoman moved forward with a determination that made it difficult for you to catch up without tripping in the darkness.

You both turned a corner and came across a curious scene: two young men, one stocky and black-haired, the other brown hair and skinny, were leaning in front of an office door. The stocky one held a strange device that emitted a dim light in his hands, while the other nervously looked around. It was Professor Heimerdinger's office.

And it wasn't hard at all for you to figure out who they were, at least one of them was undoubtedly Jayce. A part of you was glad that he was safe and sound and the other wanted to kick him for being so stupid as to infiltrate the academy.

“Are you sure no one will discover us?” Jayce asked, feeling the adrenaline in his ears as they snuck away.

“If you don’t shut up they will” his new partner in crime muttered under his breath. “Gods you really suck” Jayce was basically a bundle of nerves.

“You’re not the first to say it” Jayce replied “Can we just go in?” he complained.

His partner crouched over the three-bolt lock, searching through all the keys for the right one. “So far so good” he managed to get one of the keys to fit.

But to the surprise of both of them a blinding light appeared out of nowhere, revealing two faces familiar to Jayce.

“You'll risk exile for an invention. That's having conviction.” Councilwoman Mel didn't seem very surprised, maybe she already saw something like that coming.

“Councilwoman!” Jayce exclaimed surprised trying to cover his eyes from the light of the flashlight. “Y/N?” but in your case, he seemed disconcerted. As if it were a bad joke from the universe such a rare reunion.

“Wait a minute, isn't this my room? How did I end up here?” You raised an eyebrow at such a terrible excuse. The boy gave up with a soft exhale, holding onto his staff with an unfriendly expression. Although well it was understandable, nobody likes to be caught.

“Please, can we test that it works” Jayce begged causing the councilwoman to laugh.

“Jayce, what are you doing, have you gone crazy?” you asked in a whisper, as if you expected no one but him to be able to hear you.

“It's my secret project... well... ours” he said, giving his partner a quick look. That answer wasn't comforting at all for you. “Believe me, I'll make it work.”

“You couldn't do it before, why would it be different today?” At such an answer from the councilwoman, Jayce's attention returned to her again.

“We managed to stabilize him” Jayce's partner seemed convinced by his words, and he didn't like the way the councilwoman spoke to them at all.

“The professor has you as an assistant...” Councilwoman Mel pointed her flashlight at the boy with the staff.

That helped your gaze analyze him better. He had an appearance that clashed with Piltover's, thin but firmly planted on the ground with a palpable determination, straight back and proud posture. His face was angular, pale skinned, with soft dark circles under his sharp, intense and penetrating golden gaze. His hair was carefully combed with some unruly strands that escaped from the rest. He used the cane elegantly, as an extension of his body. He wore simple clothes, at least compared to Jayce or Councilwoman Medarda, without luxuries but he carried a certain methodical order that was easy for you to notice.

He seemed to make eye contact with you for a moment, you didn't mind that he caught you looking at him, but he quickly looked away with a serious expression to look at the keys hanging on the door. He was in a hurry.

"No, he's my new partner," Jayce said with determination, bringing you back to the situation in front of you.

“Even if you were to prove your theory, the council would destroy it.” These were not baseless comments, she knew the council’s ways better than anyone.

Her words seemed to offend the boy with the cane. “Heimerdinger will recognize the potential.” She said firmly.

“He already does…” the councilwoman began to say. “It scares him. It scares everyone…”

“What do you think?” The question came from the person you least expected, the boy next to Jayce. A discreet search for a little support.

It’s not like your word had any importance or weight in the councilwoman’s opinion but it was worth a try. After all, these boys risked exile to prove that they could do it. It would be hypocritical of you to go against them.

You looked at the councilwoman, she seemed to be waiting intently for you to say “Any innovation represents a risk…and if this is the city of progress, we should be the first to take them.”

Jayce gave you a sweet look of gratitude but everything was cut short by the sound of heavy police boots accompanied by a carefree whistle at the end of the hall.

You weren’t the only one, Jayce seemed more affected than you “Councilwoman, this technology is real and no matter what happens here, it will change our world. We should be the forerunners. Piltover the land of progress, equality, innovation. I know it sounds impossible but have we ever let that stop us…? Please give us a chance.” There was no other chance than this, time was playing against them.

The councilwoman looked at them and then looked at you “One night gentlemen, I suggest you surprise me or pack your things.” Her words were clear before she turned off her flashlight. “My dear, take care of these two. Make sure they don’t do anything that could cause a disaster or worse, a funeral.”

“Good luck.” Before you could protest, the councilwoman disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone with the two young men.

“Sneaking in? That was their best plan,” you scolded Jayce with a smack to the back of his head, crossing your arms.

“This is no time for fooling around, let’s get in quick.” The boy intervened, his calm but firm voice an order you both followed.

You sighed, looking at the two of them. “Okay,” he finally said. “But if this goes wrong, it will be your fault.”

A spark of amusement crossed the boy eyes. “I expected nothing less.”

You closed the door as soon as they entered, you had been in Heimerdinger’s office a few times and everything was just as you imagined, somehow too big for its owner’s size.

Jayce rushed to grab some things from the shelves and throw them on the table, with the low light, you could barely tell they were the things you helped him get, you imitated him, bringing the rest and leaving them on the table, he seemed surprised by the sudden support.

“What?” you asked when you saw the way he looked at you “I helped you get this and you think I’m not going to help you with whatever it is you’re doing?” you asked with a proud smile.

He didn’t say anything, he just rushed to give you a big hug, you froze in place as he wrapped his arms around you. “Thanks…” he said against your ear with a nervous breath.

A fake cough was heard behind both of you “We start working once?” The boy asked, holding a box with some tools against his hip, making his way through the two of them to set them on the table. The scolding worked, Jayce got to work, opening his notebook full of notes on the table.

“Well… Y/N, do you know how to weld?” You nodded when Jayce asked. You didn’t really know, but how difficult could it be? “Well then do you think you could put this together while we work on the rest?”

“Sure, boss,” you dropped into the chair to the side, Heimerdinger’s welding glasses were too big so you had to hope you wouldn’t go blind in the process. “Can I at least know what we’re doing?” you asked, turning the page of the notebook and having it completely catch your attention.

The page was covered with blueprints and notes about runes and a strange artifact with giant letters ‘Hextech'. The boys looked at each other.

“Is it trustworthy?” the boy asked as he searched for cables and circuits.

Jayce looked at you for a few seconds, his eyes were a bit doubtful but he didn't last a second to answer “Of course, she's the girl I told you about.”

His partner sighed “Is she the girl?” He seemed somewhat disappointed as he said it “Then tell her” he said with disinterest, as he sat down at the side of the table and began to work quickly, leaving this cane aside in his seat. You were dying to ask what they had both been saying about you, but it wasn't the right time.

“We managed to find a way to unite magic and technology with this…” From the shadows of the table he brought a box closer, when he opened it there were hundreds of blue crystals that shone brightly, with each small touch rays united and separated them. You swallowed hard, trying not to let the panic show on your face. “They’re magical and really unstable, but we managed to find a way to stabilize them a bit, imagine that. We’ll change the world.”

His words were full of hope and pride, while all you could think about was not ending up blown to pieces.

“We don’t have all night, let’s get to work!” the boy growled a few feet away from you. “I’m talking to both of you.”

The scolding worked and although the night was cold the frenzy of their activities throughout the office warmed the atmosphere, even you were starting to sweat after welding a few pieces, the image of the frame was clear and although you felt your eyes burning, you were not willing to stop. If what Jayce proposed was real and really worked then you had to be involved, if it didn't work you wouldn't hesitate two seconds to jump out the window and sneak like a thief into the student residence area and pretend that nothing had happened. Magic was a serious matter, only some were born with it and none of those people were even allowed to get close to the doors of Piltover. Things were different in Undercity, you had had one of them as a client, although he never proved that he was and one day he simply disappeared completely.

Time passed and when everything was ready Jayce and the other boy spent hours adjusting one of the crystals, facing small flaws. You watched along with them, now just as committed to making it work as they were.

“Try it now,” the boy exclaimed, and you leaned over the table with a mix of concern and curiosity. They had already fixed the circuit three times and perfected the structure a few more times. It had to work.

The boy pressed the button and the crystal inside the device rose a few inches from the base causing larger rays to hit the metal that spun around it.

“I told you it would work” the boy exclaimed with an air of enormous pride. “All yours.”

“Impressive…” you murmured, taking mental notes of the entire process.

Jayce’s gaze seemed lost in the crystal, as if he couldn’t believe it was actually working. “Wow… I’ve never done that before.”

“Alright, what are you waiting for? Make it work, I’m dying to see what it does” You handed the notebook over to Jayce, he's partner had been writing down a few things in it.

Although his partner honestly seemed the most excited about it.

Jayce sighed and brought his hands closer to the button, turning it just a little. Everyone held their breath as the runes on the device began to spin and the crystal’s activity began to increase. Another spin. The crystal rose even higher, the runes spinning like crazy on their axis, after another movement of the button, strange shapes orbited the crystal. You held back a sigh as you felt one of the rays coming from the crystal hit the table and its electric current ran through your body, you removed your hand as quickly as you could.

“Are you okay?” Jayce seemed worried, you nodded, it was not the time to worry about you “I don't think it will last!” Jayce shouted when the atmosphere began to charge with heavy energy and the sound was filled with that of the Hextech spinning.

“Look at the accumulation!” you pointed at the crystal with your head.

“The resonance will stabilize it” The boy did not shout, he seemed very calm and sure. A feeling told him that this time it was going to work. “Trust me”

The crystal began to go crazy, spinning faster and faster, emanating a blinding light that electrified the atmosphere.

“Turn it off!” Jayce’s partner shouted as he tried to protect himself a little from the electrified particles.

You tried to turn it off when Jayce couldn’t get close to the table, but the button and the energy of the crystal prevented you from doing so.

“No…I can’t” you exclaimed, any movement you made that was in contact with the particles felt like needles on your skin.

Before anyone could do anything, the power of the crystal concentrated, and a beam of energy went through the window, filling the glass with it.

It was a relief for a few seconds, before the window panes were drawn back to the cristal, flying and breaking against everything and everyone in the office. You felt yourself being dragged towards the cristal, managing not to do so as you hid behind Jayce, luckily his fist crashed into the button and the cristal fell on the base as if it were a simple rock.

“Unbelievable…” the other boy exclaimed in the middle of the darkness.

“Shit!” You shouted as you approached the broken window “The police at the entrance are not here, they must come here, we must hurry and get out of here”

You quickly began to search blindly for your bag in the dark. Jayce seemed to agree with you.

“No!” The boy shouted, getting his attention with a blow of his cane to the ground. “We can't leave, it's ready, it's going to work.”

“The police are coming for us, I don't doubt it will work but we have to leave or they'll catch us.” You confronted him, even though he was taller than you and even though you hit the table somewhat violently he didn't falter, there was no spasm or movement, he was firmly in his place next to the table.

He didn't hesitate to look you in the eyes, like a staring contest that you couldn't win, his eyes were full of conviction.

“Hey guys…” Jayce murmurs, as a mediator of the discussion.

“One more try.” He said somewhat rudely, taking a step closer to you. His scent of parchments and clean clothes embraced you completely.

You tried not to give in but it was impossible, with a sigh you walked away “I'll look at the door. Make it work” you pointed at both of them before opening the door and being alert for any light or sound.

“She it's a bossy” he exhaled, perhaps he would say something else but your frown stopped him.

Seconds were enough to put the crystal back into operation and it was those same seconds that were enough for the police and Professor Heimerdinger himself to approach quickly.

“They come!” you shouted, closing the door and rushing to find something that will work to give them a little more time. “Hey! Give me your staff!” you yelled at the boy who just didn’t hesitate before throwing it and placing it between the door handles. It wouldn’t stop them forever but it would give them a few minutes.

“Stop this madness!” You heard the professor yell in an angry tone that you had never heard from him before.

“They’re going in!” You yelled as you tried to hold the doors back with your own body. “No pressure but… hurry up!” You yelled at both of them.

“That sounds like it!” Jayce answered you upset.

Jayce’s partner raised the button again which didn’t take long to rise between the metal and the runes.

“She won’t hold out for long” the boy said watching you put all your weight against the door.

Jayce's mind was racing through all his knowledge. He had gotten the best student at the academy into this and dragged you along for the ride, it wasn't just his life that would go to shit if Hextech didn't work, but also the lives of two people who had made many sacrifices to get to where they were and still didn't hesitate to support him. It was as if the answer had come like magic, his hand instinctively moved over the button.

Right.

The crystal rose higher and began to spin around itself rapidly.

Left.

The runes froze in place, glowing and propelling the crystal.

Right.

Arcane symbols and seals began to expand from the crystal and fill the air.

Center.

When Jayce pressed the button the symbols and seals filled the entire place, joining together above their heads, culminating in a huge implosion.

You closed your eyes before the light hit you. What a way to die.

“Excuse me, careful downstairs!” Heimerdinger exclaimed, his voice was what made you open your eyes, you were still alive and even stranger. You were floating in the air in a strange galaxy of energy coming from the crystal.

Your face was not the only one that seemed amazed at everything you were witnessing.

The artifact floated beneath your body, along with other books, crystals, and other objects. In front of you, the crystal had transformed into pure energy, surrounded by a ring of light. You were impressed, maybe it was nerves or excitement but you couldn't help but laugh nervously, looking at your companions' gaze.

Jayce was more than amazed. Laughing, as nervous as you, pushing a small nut towards the crystal with his hand.

But it wasn't the reaction that interested you the most. On the other side, catching the nut, the boy with the cane laughed, sweetly and genuinely with a tender smile, the tiredness in his gaze had completely vanished. And that seemed cute to you.

“Oh shit!” You exclaimed when your body was inexplicably drawn to the crystal, your fingers touched the ring of light and before you knew it you were floating headfirst over that boy. His eyes and yours connected and both of you smiled nervously, it had worked and relief was something you could breathe in peace now.

“Wow…” he was surprised to have you so close from one moment to the next.

“You were right… One more try…”

“I told you so” He extended his hand towards you as you began to float further and further away from both of you, keeping you together.

“You really did it” the teacher called the attention of everyone floating. “But just because you can make it doesn’t mean… Guys could stop flying?” he exclaimed a little annoyed.

“I’m not sure how to do it sir” the boy answered somewhat nervously.

A giggle escaped your lips, how he could break all the rules and be so inhibited when speaking was something you didn’t understand.

“Y/N?” The teacher seemed surprised “What are you doing here young lady?”

“Ummm… I’m the… assistant?” You said raising your shoulders, not quite sure that the lie would work. “Right?..ummm..” you realized that you never asked him his name.

“Viktor, Miss Y/N,” he replied with a confident smile on his face.

Mental note: You already knew what you would put in the special notebook.

Tags:aise-30 optimistic-but-very-realistic flare-on ratnamedtoby

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I'm going to be starting my advent drabbles for December today so enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You moan at the firm swirl of fingertips against your temples. Lloyd’s hands are so big and warm that they soothe the virulent pulsing, just enough. Your toes curl and you push your skull into his grasp as you sink into the bed. 

“See, Pixie, not too bad, huh?” He purrs. You groan. He needs to just shut up. “I’ve been told I have very skilled hands, you know?” 

“Lloyd, please,” you mutter. 

“Please what? You want more?” He taunts and rocks his hips so his crotch rubs against your stomach. 

You try to shake your head but can’t in his grip. You swat his knee and grumble, “not that.” 

“Ah, come on, pixie, I can be quick but efficient,” grazes his nails over your scalp and you shudder at the cool sensation it sends through your hot skull. “You got goosebumps. I’m getting you there.” 

“No...” you murmur. 

“Mmm, yes. You don’t gotta do nothing. I’ll lick you like popsicle and you’ll melt--’ 

You flick your eyes open as a twinge pinches in your core. That’s not because of him. It’s just your biology responding to the physical stimulation. A dollar store massage pad could do the same thing. You grab his wrists and narrow your eyes. 

“Stop. I’m too tired and miserable--” you whimper at the effort it takes to speak, “to keep arguing with you.” 

“So don’t. Just let daddy Lloyd take over, baby cakes.” 

“Daddy Lloyd?” You hiss and wince at the rattle in your skull. “You’re disgusting.” 

“And you’re just like jelly in my hands. How about this, pixie dust, you just try to stop me. I think that will be fun.” He slackens his hold on your head and caresses your cheeks. Another shiver rolls over you. 

Your hands brush over his as he glides past easily. He tickles your neck and you squirm as he moves back slightly. He walks his fingers along your shoulders then grips them tightly, pushing his thumbs into your muscles. You nearly choke as you feel the tension dislodge as he kneads. 

You put your hand on his stomach and let out a wispy noise. Oh. No. It’s not that good. Oh but it is. 

“See, baby, just a toy for good boy Lloyd,” he slithers. 

You take and breath and curl your fingertips in the muscles of his torso. You’re no virgin, not some untouched nun, but it’s been as while and the feel of warm flesh plucks something deep in you. That tugging is just as much an adversary as the man who has you pinned to the bed. 

Lloyd’s fingertips continue to rub, and roll, and raze your skin. He shifts his hands along your chest and drags them over the rise of your tits. He gropes you through your bra. You bare your teeth and latch onto his middle fingers as you try to peel him away. 

“No, Lloyd--” 

“Shhhh,” he hushes you. 

He raises himself slightly on his knees and slips his hands away from your doughy flesh. He puts his elbows on either side of you, using them to support his weight as he spreads himself over you. Panic swells as you’re trapped under his tall figure. He slips his hands free and frames your sides instead, dipping his head down to bury between your cleavage. 

“Nope!” Your adrenaline spikes, and the yelp reverberates in your head like the clang of a bell. “Lloyd, no! You’re not—Ayeeeee.” 

He bites into the meat of your tit and you hit the top his head. He doesn’t react, only sinking his teeth deeper with a growl. You grab the longer strands of his hair and yank meanly. He grunts and recoils, leaving a throbbing imprint on you. 

“Ow! Don’t fuck with my hair, Pix--” 

“I’m telling you to stop--” You push yourself up on one elbow. 

“You’re moaning like a neglected housewife while you’re doing it. It’s a bit confusing--” 

“Is the word no that unclear to—you,” you put your hand to your forehead at the tick above your eye. You grit your teeth and snarl. 

“I’m trying to help you. Can’t you see that?” He shoves you back down. “I’m not going to put it in, promise. I just want a taste of the pixie pie--” 

He moves back to kneel between your legs. As he grips your hips and holds you down, your anger overwhelms that worrying tingle in your thighs. He bends as his fingertips curl under your panties and you bring your knee up into his ribcage. 

He coughs and pushes himself away. He touches his side and hisses, “Goddamnit.” 

“My head’s about to split and you’re trying to--” you gulp back the words as your cloudy dismay clears to horror. What was he going to do? How far was he going to go? 

“Babe, my balls are about to split open,” he whines. “I was only going to be nice. Get you a little O before the big flight.” 

You stare at him. Who the hell is this man? This isn’t Mr. Hansen and his curt emails and short commands. This isn’t the man who wanted his coffee with a single cream and his daily calendar colour coded. This is an animal. 

Ugh, you knew better than to blur the line of personal and professional. Too bad, he doesn’t. Two million dollars. That little chant is not as encouraging the further you get into this, especially as you realise, this is only the beginning. 

“Come on, baby, we can do it all over the clothes--” 

“Get away from me,” you sit up with a huff, your whole body rebelling at the effort. “I have enough to worry about without you all over me.” 

“Aw, please,” his eyes fall to your chest and flicker. You look down and sigh, one of your nipples peeking out above the bra cup. You fix it and shove him again. “Even the girls are tryna get out--” 

“Sleep on the floor,” you sneer as you turn your legs over the edge of the bed. You stand and go to your bag, unzipping it as you nearly topple over. Your head is a maelstrom. You take out a loose tee and leggings and quickly dress. 

As you turn back, Lloyd watches you with a pout. It’s disarming how he can go from pathetic to putrid and predatory. You near the bed and go around the other side. You take a pillow and throw it at his back. He sighs and stands up. He ignores the pillow and pulls back the blanket. 

“No--” 

“Hey, promise, I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he snaps. “I’m not sleeping on the damn floor. I’m still your boss, Pixie, remember that.” 

You don’t say anything. That’s the Mr. Hansen you know. Demanding. Stubborn. You turn your back to him and stretch out on your side. You cling to the corner of the pillow and close your eyes. 

His weight jostles behind you. He groans and the bed shifts as he leans over. The light shuts off and you nearly sigh at the relief. 

He lays back but doesn’t relax. He fidgets. Tossing and turning, one way then the other. Adjusting the pillows, tugging on the blanket, bouncing the springs. You chew on the urge to bark at him to stop. 

Finally, he stops. You exhale and try to ease your muscles. The tension only feeds the migraine. You focus on your breathing as you try to coax yourself back to sleep. You feel yourself slipping, further and further. A soft drone rises in your ears, rhythmic but harried. 

“Mmm,” the hum breaks through your bubble and frustration sparks in your chest. You were almost asleep. “Mm, yeah, that’s....” Lloyd raspy voice drawls into the darkness between shallow grunts, “fuck--” 

The shaking of the bed spikes your heartbeat. You open your eyes and frown. What is he doing? Is he--” 

“Lloyd!” You spin onto your back and sit up, “Lloyd, stop that--” 

“Fuck yeah, say my name,” he strokes himself furiously. You can vaguely see how the blanket jumps around his frantic motion. “Come on, I’m almost there.” 

“You’re--” 

“Told you,” he groans and pushes his feet into his bed, his knees bend under the blanket, “keeping my hands--- to myself.” 

“Oh, god!” You turn and leap out of bed, stumbling. “Lloyd, you’re disgusting. Nasty--” 

“Keep it coming, pix, it’s helping--” 

“Ew!” You grab the pillow and twist away, stomping out, “absolutely gross!” 

“Ah, yeah, fuck, baby! Thank you....” he voice peters out as you slam the bathroom door, flicking the lock into place. 

You wince at the impact against the frame and sway in the dark. You throw the pillow into the tub and grab the robe hung on the back of the door. Fuck it. You give up. You don’t even want to sleep anymore, you just want to be left alone. 

❄️

Your alarm wakes you through the wall. You’re stiff and sore, but your migraine has relented. The few hours were enough to push it back to a tenuous shadow. One wrong move and it’ll be back. 

You climb out of the tub and turn on the shower. You wash quickly, minding the time, and get ready in the mirror, wearing the same robe you slept under. You emerge to the rocky snoring. You turn on all the lights but Lloyd remains unbothered. 

You grab clothes, a black turtleneck and the same shade of cigarette pants. You dress in the bathroom then zip up your toiletry pouch. You come out to shove it into your suitcase and scour the room for anything forgotten.  

As a final touch, you return to the bathroom and take one of the paper cups and fill it. You go quietly to the bed and tip it over Lloyd’s naked back, exposed above above the messy blankets. He squeals and bounces to life, flipping over as the rest of him is revealed to the room. You avert your eyes at his nakedness. 

“What the fuck?” He snarls sleepily, “what are you doing?” 

“Time to get up, Lloydy poo,” you clap at him. “We got a plane to catch.” 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” 

“What? I'm helping you wake up. Like a good wife, right?” 

He goes to argue then hesitates. He moves the blankets and coughs. He blinks and rubs his eyes. “What time is it?” 

“Well, it’s time enough. You have thirty minutes to get it together, babykins.” 

He winces at your tone. He stares at you as you grin. He moves cautiously toward the edge of the bed. 

“What’s... you did something?” 

“No,” you answer flatly. 

“But...” he eyes you suspiciously. 

“I’m just playing my part,” you say. “Like we agreed. Not everyone is morally debunked like you, my beloved.” 

“Stop it,” he says. 

“Stop what, my manly man. The twinkle in my eye. My other half.” 

“All of that. I don’t like how you’re saying it,” he stands and hides his crotch with his hands. 

“Stop? Oh, teddy bear, we don’t know that word, do we? Stop? What could that possibly mean?” 

“Alright, I get it. You’re mad about last night--” 

“I’m not mad, sweetie, I’m concerned because if you don’t get yourself together, we’re going to miss another flight and if I miss this flight, well, I think I might just lose my mind,” you smile, “you don’t want that now, do you, snookums.” 

“You...” he turns back to you, “you’re a bit deranged sometimes.” 

“Speak for yourself, sugar,” you march up to him, your anger fuming like smog in your nostrils, and you pinch his naked ass. “Get into gear,” your voice deepens, “now.” 

He yelps and pulls away. He looks at you like he’s been splashed with cold water a second time and he swallows tightly. His brows arch as he gapes at you. He keeps one hand over his pelvis and reaches back to rub his ass. 

“Damn, Pixie,” he finally backs off, “you’re something else.” 

“I’m exhausted and I’m annoyed, so don’t push me.” You warn him. 

“Yeah, well, better get this all out now. I’m sure the family doesn’t need you spoiling the holiday cheer.” 

“Me?” You hiss. 

He blanches, “I meant... er...” 

“Go,” you snap your fingers and put your back to him. “I gotta get all this in the car.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and you listen to him retreat into the bathroom. 

You get your bags to the door then grab your boots and jacket. Your agitation buzzes just under your skin. You have the flight to rein it in. It won’t be easy like Lloyd’s family. They don’t know you, so you can pretend with them. But your family, well, you are related to them. You share quite a few traits. 

And Lloyd. You can’t have him running round like some goblin wreaking havoc. This whole thing is his idea and yet he doesn’t seem to know the script. He’s unpredictable and uncontrollable. He’s not the type your family would expect. That’s because he isn’t your type. Never in a million years would you choose him. 

You take your bags down to the car and return to the hotel room. Lloyd is half-dressed. A pair of lamb grey pants on as he pulls on a white turtleneck with a silver emblem on the left side of his chest. The clothes won’t help the theatrics. 

You gather up his clothes from the day before. You shove them into his large suitcase. “Is that everything?” 

“I think, I just have my essentials,” he says. “Gotta style the love stache.” 

“Go,” you wave him away. 

“Thank you, honey boo, I know. I do look handsome in this, don’t I?” He taunts. You look at him with all the lack of sleep and rage festering in you from the last two days. He recoils and puts his palms up, “right, I’ll doll myself up.” 

You wait for him to disappear back into the bathroom before you drag his bags to the door. You’ll leave them there so he can pack away whatever else he has out. You go to the bed and sit, running your hands over your face. 

This isn’t just about getting through today. After the bullshit he promised his family, this is going to be months of torment. You don’t know if you have the willpower to put up with him for that long. 

[morganski-19]

The One with the Gossip

The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.

“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.

“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”

Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”

Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”

Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.

“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”

“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.

Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”

“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.

Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”

Everyone winces with disgust.

“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”

“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.

Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”

“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.

Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.

“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”

“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.

Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”

They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.

“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”

Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.

“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”

“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”

Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”

“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”

“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”

Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”

“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.

Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”

Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.

The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.

“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug