#this feels like me trying to write a slow burn

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part five

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter.

Words: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, Nam-gyu doesn't know how to process negative emotions, angst, self harm, fluff, smut, dry humping, p n v, unprotected, creampie

A/N: Haiii what a whiplash of tags

It's been absolutely forever since I've written smut so I apologize if this isn't good LMAO

I just felt I might as well give you guys a little gift after last chapter

Anyway I'm not sure if this is going to be the last chapter. But I feel like it's a fitting end for these two. I might do some little tid bits in the future, I've got some ideas already, but you'll just have to bare with me.

I'm a little iffy about this chapter. I have no idea if it makes sense or if it's actually good, but I think that's only because I kind of struggled to write it and have been staring at it WAY TOO LONG.

MASTERLIST

Lightning strikes rippled through the dark rainy skies above Nam-gyu’s apartment. Streaks of yellow light blooming before each thunderous boom echoed above. The awning above shielded Nam-gyu from the downpour that fell in thick drops, smacking against the ground in quick succession. 

Nam-gyu’s chest felt hollow, emotions numb, but his head still had a storm raging inside. He felt terrible. You had been so excited to show him and Su-bong all that Halloween had to offer in America.

He would be lying if he said he didn't share your enthusiasm, but the events of this morning had ruined everything.

A particularly bad nightmare had woken Nam-gyu up. Sweat was covering his chest and the back of his neck. He blinked several times trying to register where he was, your horrified screams still echoing through his head. 

He had wanted to call you, to receive the comfort your voice always brought him, but he didn’t want to worry you so early in the morning.

Throughout the day his thoughts ran wild, the nightmare playing over and over in more and more gruesome scenarios. Nam-gyu felt like he was being sucked back into that nightmarish place with each minute that passed. 

Nam-gyu flicked the flimsy ashes of his cigarette onto the pavement below. He picked at the skin around his fingernails carelessly. His eyelids sagged a little, his lips downturned in a cold expression, irritation jabbing itself into his side. 

He honestly felt embarrassed, a brief insecure thought of “Am I overreacting?” passing through his head. Nam-gyu was used to acting like this around Su-bong, having witnessed each other at their very worst many times. But to have you see this part of him? It made him want to crawl out of his skin.

You shouldn’t have to be with someone so broken. 

Nam-gyu didn’t want to admit it to himself, but his friend was right. 

He couldn’t keep tearing himself apart like this. And he knew once he fell down that slippery slope, he would drag you down right alongside him.

He would become the worst version of himself all over again. The self centered, arrogant, careless asshole he always became when he was high. 

The cherry of his cigarette was so bright against the blackened night sky, the white paper burning back, peeling into a burnt black before turning grey as he took another slow drag. 

Just one more score… One more hit… Just one more bump… One last time…

The cigarette sizzled against Nam-gyu’s wrist, he sucked in a loud hiss through his teeth. The burning pain bloomed through his skin as he let the remains of the orange filter fall to the ground pathetically, an angry red burn staring back at him. 

~~~

The next few days dragged on at an agonizing pace. You hadn’t seen Nam-gyu or Su-bong since that night, and it left a pit of hopelessness in your stomach. You constantly had to remind yourself to put your phone away, rereading the text Su-bong had sent you over and over again. 

“Just give us a few days and I promise you’ll get some answers.”

Each passing second you waited for that chime to come. Glancing back to the black screen of your phone more often than you would like to admit. That nausea stirred by anxiety bit at the back of your throat for hours on end during the second day, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

In a way you were terrified that this would somehow result in the end of your relationship, overthinking every possible outcome that could happen once Su-bong finally does text you. 

You knew deep down that you were being ridiculous. But in the past your relationships have ended over much more trivial things. Stupid things that could have been talked about, solved with a simple conversation. 

No, this couldn’t be what ended things with Nam-gyu. You couldn’t let someone like him slip through your fingers like that. No matter how broken or bruised he thought he was. 

But as you sat on his couch listening to Su-bong recount the events they experienced while in South Korea, you finally started to understand. 

The blood and carnage they witnessed, it would have been unbelievable if Su-bong didn’t show you the articles to back up everything he said. 

“BREAKING: Underground deathmatch operation in South Korea finally comes to a halt, forty two people rescued, number of arrests unknown at this time.” 

You looked over at Nam-gyu who was at the other end of the couch, legs tucked into his chest as he smoked a blunt lazily, looking everywhere but at you. He hasn’t said a word since you sat down, his fingers dragging across his bottom lip softly as he listened to his friend talk. 

A tense silence hung in the air after Su-bong finished. His eyes lingered on Nam-gyu before looking at you. 

How does someone even respond to something like this? Where do you even begin? You have never watched someone die, let alone be murdered. In all honesty you thought that Nam-gyu might have just relapsed, and that he was too scared to tell you. 

You could have never guessed it was something as horrifying as this. 

Nam-gyu cleared his throat, “Please don’t feel like you need to pity me. The stuff we went through was… It was bad but-" He was quiet for a second, stuck on his own words, "Fuck I don’t even know how to talk about this shit, nevermind.” He laughed bitterly, going back to smoking. 

Being stuck in an environment like that can fundamentally change a person for life. Preyed upon at their lowest points, broken down into the worst versions of yourself. Hundreds of people ripping each other apart lest they fall first, having to fight your way out with no guarantee that you would live to see the sunlight again.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for them. 

“All we’re asking is for you to be a little patient with us.” Su-bong said finally, picking awkwardly at the strings on his pants. 

You realize that they both must have felt extremely vulnerable right now. One of their darkest secrets finally out in the open, revealing the throbbing gash that was their minds. 

“Of course.” 

~~~

Nam-gyu’s room was freezing. A fan humming loudly in the corner of his room, the notch turned to the highest setting. The curtain over his window fluttered, the streetlights from outside briefly lighting his sparsely decorated walls, illuminating your soft gaze. Nam-gyu could almost trick himself into thinking stars were in your eyes, sparkling as they stared into his soul. 

Your fingertips kissed the skin of his cheek, your lips a sweet caress against his as you whispered softly to him. Words that soaked into his skin like sunlight on a summer’s day, he could almost hear birds chirp in the back of his mind as his eyes slipped closed.

That storm raging inside of him slowly turned into a soft drizzle, and for a brief moment Nam-gyu almost felt like a rainbow could bloom from behind the grey clouds of his mind. 

You made everything feel right. 

Every thorny fear stabbed into Nam-gyu’s quickly beating heart kissed away by each touch. 

“I love you, Nam-gyu… More than I have ever loved anyone.” You whispered against his cheek. 

His blunt fingernails scratched oh so softly at the skin under your shirt, drawing meaningless patterns as you continued showering him in your adoration.

Nam-gyu swore that his heart was going to beat out of his chest, the only thing that plagued his mind now was you. 

“I’m really sorry…” Nam-gyu finally spoke up, his voice weaker than he had expected it to be. 

You looked at him curiously, fingers combing through his hair gently. Goosebumps rose up on Nam-gyu’s arms as he tried to think about what he wanted to say next. 

“I know that you were really scared a few days ago… And I just feel bad, I should have told you about all of this sooner, but…” He took a deep, shaky breath, “I was terrified that you would see me differently. Like I'm some broken… thing that needed fixing.” 

A kiss was pressed softly to Nam-gyu’s forehead, then to his cheek, there was a long beat of silence. Nam-gyu could tell you were carefully figuring out how to word your response. 

“Don’t apologize for not telling me. I’m just thankful that you felt safe enough to let me in like this.” 

~~~

Over the next month things started to settle back down. Nam-gyu still struggled, as any normal person would in his circumstance. But eventually your usual routines were slowly restored, and things felt like they were back to normal again.

Nam-gyu was smiling a lot more, his usual playful attitude finally shining back through. It seemed as though a weight was finally being lifted from his tense shoulders, allowing him to relax back into his life. 

And as a way to provide a helpful distraction from their troubles, you got them into one of your favorite shows that you watched as a teenager. 

It was an American show that neither man had heard of before, they were interested enough to start watching it, and now they were hooked. You wished so desperately you could watch for the first time all over again. Wishing you could share their shocked reactions when their wide eyes would meet yours. 

“Oh my god- get this bitch out of my face.” Nam-gyu groaned, a particularly annoying character walking on screen. 

“He’s really not that bad.” Su-bong commented, crunching loudly on a piece of popcorn, “At least he killed that one guy.” 

Nam-gyu glances up at you from where his head was laying on your thigh, as if to say “Can you believe this guy?” before rolling his eyes and saying,

“Yeah that was the most useful thing he’s done this entire season.”

A small laugh leaves you, your fingers softly playing with his hair. Your fingertips softly brushed against the shell of his ear, making him shiver a little. There was a certain heat to your touch, grabbing his attention as you trailed closer to the base of his neck and around to trace the side of his adams apple. 

You watched him carefully. Watched as his hand slowly came up to your thigh, gripping just above your knee, his body was more tense than before. But his eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second, not even as your fingertips dipped below the collar of his shirt and your fingernails scratched against the skin just below his collarbone. 

~~~

His lips whispered across your skin, fingers gripping harshly on your hips as he brought you closer. You could feel how hard he was against your clothed center. You could feel the heat of his cock pressing into you as you grind down against him, small moans slipping from his mouth between breathless kisses. 

Your neck was wet with his spit, bite marks already blooming into delicious bruises. One of your hands weaved through his hair, deepening your desperation as his tongue made its way past your parted lips. 

He guides your hips with precision, the press of him making your desire heighten with each salacious movement. You felt like a woman starved, every fibre of your being craving him. With every sound that left his lips, every time your name dripped from his tongue. 

“Fuck, honey.” He whispered against your lips, he braced a hand on your back as he flipped the both of you over, his hips working against yours harder than before, “Fuck…”

Nam-gyu separated himself from you for just a second, pushing his boxers down just enough. You were quick to remove your own underwear, throwing it to the floor. Your legs quickly found their way back to his waist, your hands pulling him back down for another kiss. 

You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Your lips pressed soft kisses to his jaw when he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, pushing himself inside of you so slowly. The stretch of his cock made your lips part with a gasp, your nails bit into his shoulder as he started grinding into you, the tip kissing your cervix. 

“Shit, baby, always so fucking tight.” His words sent jolts through your whole body, “So good...” He whispered into your ear. 

His first thrust almost pushed the air from your lungs, a steady pace being set as his hands explored your chest. He squeezed your breast before he brought his hand to brush his thumb against your throat. 

Sweet moans poured from his mouth as he pressed messy kisses to the side of your throat. His hips slapped yours loudly, his cock ramming so deep inside you that it leaves you breathless. You felt like you were vibrating with pleasure. 

“‘S fucking good- shit.” His hand trailed down between your sweaty bodies, his middle finger finding your clit. Sparks traveled through your body to the tips of your toes, his fingers massaged against your bundle of nerves softly.

“Please…” You whine out pathetically. 

“You gonna cum baby?” You could see the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

His hips were slamming into you harder now, fucking into you like it would be the last time. He was savoring every single drag of his cock inside your velvet walls, squeezing against him so tightly, pulling him back in. 

“Nam-gyu, oh fuck!” Your thighs shook against him as your orgasm crashed into you, your fingers clawing against his shoulders. 

“Shit.” He gasped, his hips grinding into yours and you could feel him twitch as he finally came, hot spurts coating your insides. 

Nam-gyu’s eyes met yours. They were soft, swimming with unspoken emotions, a small smile tugged at his lips. His fingers brushed away the sweaty strands of hair from your cheek, fingertips grazing your jaw as he brought you into a crushing kiss. A kiss that said, 

I love you… I love you… I love you…

[16wheelerhorse]

Please please do a lando x ex!reader. Angst because hey’d broken up when she fell pregnant but he wasn’t ready. And now seeing her pregnant in the paddock is doing stuff to him. Eventually he can’t take it anymore and he fucks her…hard.

Burning By Design

pairing: Lando Norris x ex girlfriend reader (m/f)

rating: explicit

word count: 4,7 k

tags/warnings: smut, angst with a happy ending (maybe, maybe), toxicity, 3rd trimester pregnancy, unprotected sex (not recommended by author!!), rough sex (p.i.v.), pregnancy fetish (if you squint), 2nd person POV, past tense, no "y/n" or OC names used

a/n (header): title by shame. apologies for the wait. i have study related work. this might be as fast as i get. anyway, i really enjoyed writing this and am hoping for more requests - head to my pinned post :)

At first, he could not believe what he was seeing.

It was almost too stupid to process.

Perhaps, the A plot of a sitcom he had not consented to be part of. Perhaps, a form of divine intervention punishing him for blasphemy and pride, firmly guided by its own self-importance. More likely, a parasitic thought coming up from the basement of his mind to taunt him before the sprint. They like to wake up when there is light upstairs, when he is finally doing well again.

It immediately became clear that it wasn’t a dark daydream playing tricks on him, however. Nightmares are bold and unsparing, certainly not afraid of little Lando Norris. Certainly wouldn’t hide their face at their eyes meeting, wouldn’t try to scurry away.

As much as it irritated him, made him lose track of what he had planned before the race, he couldn’t let you run. Couldn’t let you get away with showing your face around the paddock again, putting yourself at risk of getting caught by the cameras before he could give you a warning. 

Lando didn’t have time to think about the consequences of the gossip that would ensue thanks to your caprice. He almost sprinted to you, capturing your arm in a firm grip.

“Hello?”

It rang loud in the heat of the moment, prompting the closest heads to turn to face the two of you.

“Lando,” you replied, volume low and tone as calm as you could muster, avoiding catching another glimpse in his direction.

You heard him exhale sharply behind you, hand travelling to the back of your neck, pressing on first vertebra he could feel beneath your skin. Continuing to walk, Lando led you to a quiet corner near the public bathrooms. He leaned in, breath ghosting past the shell of your ear. “May I ask exactly what brings you here of all places?”

His bratty tone triggered you even more than you had anticipated. You swallowed, keeping your expression stone cold. “I’m here to watch some racing. You know, one of the most normal things a person could be doing around here.”

He clicked his tongue, and you could sense him examining every detail of your appearance. Your parted lips letting a jagged breath escape. The oversized crewneck attempting to hide your enlarged belly, reminding him of the times when you used to borrow his clothes. Sunglasses to prevent you from being recognized, playing the same role as the unseen tint to your hair, arranged carefully with the intent to cover up the tattoo behind your ear - “I♡”, a Roman numeral. Lando couldn’t decide which detail hurt him the most.

“I see. Right after I lost the championship, which makes it all the more interesting, of course,” His words were laced with passive aggression, hand squeezing the skin around your spine. “So interesting you couldn’t, like, be satisfied with a screen… I mean, are you even allowed to travel, for fucks sake?!” He pressed a finger into the firmness of your belly.

You jerked away, finally turning to glare at him. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you mumbled, pulling down the hem of your sweatshirt. “Yes, I should be able to do so until week thirty-six. I’m healthy.”

Lando gave you a slow nod as he examined you, chewing on his lip. He seemed tense and somewhat worn out, the end of the year fast approaching, but it was the same man you had had on your mind for months. His eyes were soft and lively, with him sporting some light stubble on his face, same as when you had your last proper conversation; thick hair and eyebrows, a wild mess of curls you wished you could grab a handful of, even at that moment.

“Good,” he replied softly. “That’s a relief, then.”

You let out a cold laugh. “As of you give a fuck, suddenly.”

He straightened his back, drawing closer to you again. “It is still my baby,” he retaliated with a muted whine.

“In theory only. Which should be a relief to you. Now you have all the time in the world to be second.”

Disregarding your protest, Lando pulled you against himself, snatching away your sunglasses so that nothing was shielding you from his stare. “You bitch…!” He shook his head, almost as a warning. “Unlike you, I can be proud of myself.”

“Yeah...? Well. I ain't one to be controlling somebody's opinions. Good for you, Lando.”

No matter how well-intended your statement was - or wasn't -, it didn't fly with the boy in question. “I think you’ve said enough for today,” he gripped your arms tighter. His reply was full of contempt, with Lando making it clear his will to listen was much the same as his remaining respect for you. “I know why you’re here. You think you’re about to witness my downfall or something, that I’m getting weak. That you have a chance to embarrass me by any means possible.”

There was growing intensity to his voice, persistence. Lando didn’t process arguments like others would. He liked having an equal opponent to bounce off of, someone who could take his jabs and bite back. All because a part of him loved being bitten, torn down and mocked, so he would have a chance to see the vehemence in your eyes, hear the words picking him apart - so obsessed, so captured by the dance between you. 

And sometimes, it hit just right, the soft spot on his underside that made him lie back and revel in the pain. It was the easiest thing to do. Give up the fight.

This didn’t seem like one of those days, however. Lando really did appear to be standing stronger after Vegas. There were urgent flames starting to appear in his gaze, accented by the orange color of his suit. He was hell bent on proving you wrong. Judging by the way his hands lingered on the sides of your belly, they would have been all over you had you two been in private.

You kept your cool, raising an eyebrow at him. “That sounds like a lot of work. You must be mistaken. I’m minding my own business; you are the one trying to insert yourself back into it.”

“Your business? Like you are going anything except fuck all.”

“Yes, very serious business. I need to find a good man to support me and my baby. There should be plenty around here." Pause. "Still, I can’t be picking just anybody.”

Lando was cut off mid inhale. He looked over you with near disgust, his grip tightening as thoughts of someone else possessing you clouded his mind. It was always too easy to rile him up that way. Make him reveal many of his least sufferable qualities, intensify the competition he was always part of, with both others and himself.

“Ah-hah. Who do you have eyes on, then?” he kept presssing, tongue running over his lips. “Tell me.”

You ran over some names for a second. “Lewis.”

He let out a laugh with a note of played up cruelty in it, flashing his teeth. “Shut up. That’s way out of your league.”

“Okay. Then, hm. Why don’t you tell me who would piss you off the most?” you mocked. “Always beefing with men with way more integrity than you. Like a spoiled little chihuahua.”

You pulled at his waist, which was molded perfectly for your palms, until your stomach was pressed against the solid muscles under his suit. As you looked up, his eyes were already on yours.

What a waste of a pretty face he was.

“Well, who? Oscar? Max?”

His cheeks grew redder at a rapid rate. “Don’t drag them into this. They’re both happily taken.”

“Yeah? And did that stop you from leaving?” You smirked, keeping your ground. “No. As I said, being a real man isn’t for everyone.”

Lando's eyes darkened. “All that talk, it’s funny, you know that. I’m sure you do, yet you’re quite shit at admitting you’ve messed up. Don’t look at me like that…” he snapped at the face you made.

“All this anger can’t be good for your body.” His fingers were back on the side of your belly, stroking gently. “All that… freaking idiocy. You chose to bang a guy at the highest point of his career – so far. A guy who wasn’t even twenty-five then, a guy who’d just won his first race. And for what? For me to leave everyone behind? You had a fucking chance; you had a chance to abort-”

“Maybe if you hadn’t tried to push your money into my face. Crying about how I was trying to trap you? Seriously?”

“Okay, whatever excuse you had,” he scoffs, laying his hand on one of the arms holding his waist. “But don’t come to me pretending like I fucked everything up. When you let yourself get pounded by guy who isn’t even a real man…”

“Lando…”

“And you loved it.” His voice had gotten close to a whisper, gaze softly studying your wide-eyed expression. “You were obsessed… I shouldn’t be surprised you kept the baby, you always wanted a piece of me, right?” 

He smirked. “You still are, are you not? You missed me, it’s why you came. Just say it.”

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. A fuck-up. Even a fool like him could see right through you.

His words were dirty, and they cut you deep. You could never forget those days, the pinnacle of your love him for him. How he had held you as they were snapping him with white light, bleaching the red flags in the distance into a warm pink that took over your eyes.

You had made love that same night, and you had been careless. You had said too much, things too strong to ever take back. He hadn’t understood, but you were sure he could remember everything.

It was all your fault, falling too deep, too soon. 

“No,” you denied his claim, voice cracking.

“Yeeaah. Still obsessed with little old me…” he reached forward to pinch your cheek, grinning as if the battle had already been won. There was hunger in his eyes that made you flinch. “You want me the way I used to be. When nothing mattered as much as you.”

He could read what was on your mind through your eyes. The mirror of the soul.

Stupid fucking idiot. If only he were as dumb as people liked to think. 

“Yes…”

It was almost inaudible. “Say what?”

“Forget it, Lando. Just… forget about me. I’m sorry, I made a m-”

There was the soft pad of his finger pressing on your lips.

“Shhh…”

Lando smiled at you like a wild animal he’s managed to tame, a beauty he could take all to himself now.

You closed your eyes, expecting what was coming.

He replaced his finger with his lips when he was an inch away and pressed hard. His exhale was absorbed by your skin as he pushed you closer to himself with his palm on the back of your neck, not letting you escape. He didn’t hesitate to wet your lips with his tongue, try to part them while you held on, freezing at the sensation of a hand having reached for your breast.

You let out a sob and felt him grinning against you. His teeth nipped at your lip, impatient and commanding, bruising the delicate skin. You refused to open up.

Lando pulled away just far enough to inhale, clawing at the bra under your clothes that was preventing him from feeling your skin.

“What? You literally just showed me that I was right. You pathetic fucking girl.”

This mockery was delivered the form of a quiet purr, teasing but insisting you to stay. At that point, nothing could hide you from Lando’s obvious arousal, the struggle that was your haughty, self-defeating mind making adrenaline flow through his body, much like rivalry between drivers. But you were more gorgeous than any shining trophy or livery, so enticingly vulnerable, a canvas he could see his own work displayed on.

His eyes were impossible to meet. If it were feasible, you would have had him kiss you with them. Burn your skin with the intensity of his gaze, then sooth you with the dreams he held in them, the coolness of light and his beautiful shade of green. Scar you with the batting of his lashes until you lost the ability to bleed for anybody else.

“Lan, we can’t.”

“You’re fucking crying…” he pointed out, his chuckle low and deep, wiping any sincerity from your words. “Yeah, we can. We will.”

You swallowed. You had never felt so feeble yet so willing to be. “Take me somewhere. Touch me, please, I need you--”

A dirty smirk formed on his face, despite which you let him tug you to one of the toilets, refusing to acknowledge the setting and directing all of your attention to his lips. After he locked the door, you were pressed against the wall in an instant, one of his hands moving up to your face and the other struggling to pull up the layers covering your stomach.

Lando’s look was utterly lewd as your swelling lips wrapped around his index and middle finger, sucking all the way up to his metacarpals as you squeezed his wrist with desperation. Your pupils, wide and glimmering in the low light of the room, were firmly focused on the veins on the back of his large hand, with Lando helping you roll up his sleeve to reveal them running further down his forearm. 

You did not have the guts to face his insufferable grin. “Crazy, it’s all yours,” Lando laughed, conceited and mocking, reveling in the shameful thirst in your eyes. He looked down at his fingertips exploring the curve of your exposed belly, following their path with filth written all over his face. It was as if he’d discovered a muse, unexplored fertile land to roam and sow full of sin.

“Fuck,” he cursed, reaching lower to undo your jeans. You let Lando’s soaked fingers slip out of your mouth as your breath hitched, whimpering when his hand pushed aside your panties for a more enticing view. 

He ogled at your clit peeking through an unshaved bush, flushed warm pink and begging for his touch. His finger went to brush past it, making you gasp and bend, and disappeared between the soaked lips of your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, glancing up with a bright, teasing flame in his green eyes, a look that understood the obscenity you were about to fall in the arms of. “For me.”

The word was accented in a manner that made your cheeks burn red in shame. You didn’t think you could admit to the disgraceful act of falling for him again, accept the way your body was reacting to his voice, his touch, his presence. He had you in full control, all but on your knees begging to be taken.

“How does that make you feel, huh?” Lando was grinning, his hand leaving your heat to undo his collar and pull down the zipper of his racing suit.

Your teeth were gnawing at your bottom lip unconsciously, heart about to leap out of your chest in a plea it was unable to scream.“Uhm… I-I missed this…”

“Missed what?” Lando asked with feigned innocence. “This?” He guided your arm to the bulge nestled in his uniform, pressing it into your open palm. A laugh escaped him as he batted his eyelashes at you with a pleased smirk plastered all over his face. “To think it made you into this,” he drawled as his other hand trailed from your baby bump up to your chest, cupping one of your tits and squeezing hard. “Am I being stupid or have they gotten bigger?”

“Yes to both,” you sighed as he began removing your top and sweatshirt, sliding them over your head. Your clothes and bra were tossed on the floor without care as Lando’s pupils grew wider at the sight of your enlarged breasts and areolas. There were darker stripes forming on your tummy and visible veins painted your chest, which made you flush under his gaze as you looked down. “You fucking ass.”

Lando did not let that fly. His hand wrapped around your neck, with a finger supporting the chin lifting it up to face him. “Was that one of your wishes right there?”

“No,” you gulped, raging need taking over your brain and making you unable to consider your own words. Your clit was silently throbbing and walls crying out in pain, begging for a hard dick taking you and stretching them out. “P-please… I need it in my pussy, Lando.”

He let out a breathless chuckle, with a low sound resembling a moan escaping his throat. “Ohhh. You’re begging, and I didn’t even have to ask. Fucking begging for my cock…”

Lando said these kinds of things not only to rile you up further, but also to help convince himself that they were somehow – miraculously – real. Earlier that day, he could never have guessed what he, what you would come to – and he would have done anything to make it happen. Your words and the sight of you were raw power, adrenaline flooding his veins, a vain delicacy for his horny and famished body.

His hands were trembling in anticipation as he wrestled out of the top half of his suit, letting it hang limp around his legs, and pushing his bottoms just low enough to free his aching dick. You stared at it with all thoughts but one wiped from your head while he rushed to peel off his skin-tight shirt, letting it fall from his fingers as he looked over you with a smirk.

This was between you, him, and whatever devil had gotten the better of you. It had really come to that. Throwing away everything you had convinced yourself of to feel his flesh against yours, to taste the rush of blood you had been missing for oh so long.

He leaned in to kiss you again, every bit of his body buzzing drunk with lust, his tongue warm and sticky against your lips when he moaned inside your mouth. “I hope he or she is asleep. I wouldn’t want mini me to witness the shit I’m about to do to you.”

Pulling down your undone jeans with your underwear and guiding himself in with the other hand, Lando entered your weeping pussy, curse words and groans erupting from his throat as soon as he’d felt the heat inside you.

“Oh my fucking God,” he exclaimed in a choked cry, “you – oh my dear, my God, you…”

You two were complete and unsalvageable wrecks. The only thing you could do was hold onto your belly for dear life as he began thrusting in and out of your oversensitive cunt, nails digging into one of your ass cheeks and pulling to spread you open wider. In return, your hand flew to squeeze one of his pecs, capturing his nipple between your fingers. 

Lando was unceremoniously loud, with your own moans ringing out almost inaudible among his sounds and the wet noises filling the small space. “Ah, shit. Fuck. You’re, like… hotter inside. So, so fucking tight…”

Your hormones were rushing through your blood in silent triumph as he pounded you, each of his veins and the head of his dick bringing a distinct detail of the sensation. It didn’t take long before you were sore, so incredibly sensitive and weak against his raging body that you were trapped in a tight embrace with. You yelped and clawed as he hit your cervix, causing him to crush your shoulder in a death grip, startled.

“Fuck, are you alright?” Lando blurted out as he stopped, appearing dazed from the lack of air.

“Just spare my uterus, okay? The baby adds pressure from the inside,” you panted, leaning your head against his flushed, sweaty chest. “I feel like you’re crushing him, we’re too close into each other. Is there a…”

“You want me to take you from the back?” Lando breathed, running his fingers down your back with a dirty grin. “Oh, hell yes.”

You were bent over the bathroom sink, your arms folded to prevent you from slipping off the tiny surface, with Lando behind you with your hair wrapped tightly around his right hand as he groped one of your heavy hanging breasts with the other. He was obsessed with the sight, muttering such filth that it made you unable to open your eyes, to face the mirror mere inches ahead of you.

“Look at me.” His tone was derisive as he managed to stammer in between moans, tugging ruthlessly on your hair. You swallowed, turning your head to the side. “In front of you.”

Lando had, quite frankly and unfortunately, never looked as sexy before. His sweat soaked skin glimmered in the low light casting shadows that brought out his defined muscles and the cartilage in his throat accented with each gulp. His mullet had been turned into a wet, untamable mop of curls resting on the top of his head. Slick with tears, the almost girlish lashes framing his eyes appeared longer and thicker, unmistakably enviable.

Best and worst of all, despite of what had happened, despite the time that had passed, he was still yours. He fucked you like it meant something, cried out like it was the only thing that felt right, painted scars and bruises on your back as a reminder of your helplessness for him. One you will never cease to feel.

“Pathetic,” Lando mocked right in your ear, having laid the upper half of his body on top of yours, face buried in a heap of hair. “You’ve always been so fucking miserable for me.”

You responded with the loudest cry you could ever wish to let out, muted by his large hand covering your mouth, so overtaken by him that not a single cell of your body would have fought back. He expressed his approval with a deep thrust, showing you gratitude by moving his fingers to your swollen clit, swiping up and down with tiny, rapid movements.

“I love you. Fuck, I-… I need you so God damn bad. …I’m going to cum, I’m not stopping—"

He parted his fingers, letting you respond with a moan. “Yeah… Please, please just fill me, fill this pregnant fucking pussy…”

Your breath hitched as you cried out obscenities to your man, much like the filth that resulted in him getting you pregnant in Miami some months ago. Filth you could never abstain from, filth you could chant for hours as long as you were with Lando, merging your bodies as you were once again proving nothing on Earth was stronger than the material tying you together. You felt yourself growing weaker, unable to contain the pool of sensitivity having overtaken your intimates.

“I’m coming… Oh, Lando, holy fuck…”

Lando could feel your pulse through your cramping walls as you came, tightening around him again and again, milking his cock right inside you. He unloaded with a deep, tortured groan, whimpering as each wave of his orgasm punched him in the heart. It was everything he could ever have wanted and more. Your pregnant body warm and snug against his, crying out his name in love, so dependent on him it could be broken with one touch.

“Oh, my…. You’re just perfect,” Lando heaved, straightening his back, all shaky and weakened by the amazing finish you had gifted him. You watched his reflection he pulled out, slowly and with care, watching his cum trickle down between your folds all the way to your abused clit. He cleaned his softening cock by wiping the leftover filth off against your bush, praising you with a worshipful caress of your curves as he stuffed himself back inside his suit. 

A yellowish liquid was leaking from the breast he had taken in his hand. Lando stopped you in your tracks, leaning down to bury his face in between your tender boobs, his warm lips and tongue not shying away from making you clean.

You gasped. Lando was purring, holding you tight in his powerful arms. Looking.

He had wrecked and built you back up, all just to blow everything you were into bits again. Made you a mess. A goddess. A hopeless starving animal. All to himself, in his own eyes.

In that moment, he had all of you to worship and adore. And he wanted to believe he wasn't stupid enough to let you slip away anymore.

“You may feel free to call me any names you want for leaving." He began after a long, soothing pause. "I am, admittedly, a huge fucking idiot.”

Still panting , you looked into his eyes in the mirror, your spine crying out in pain as you attempted to stand up straight. His words had you wanting to laugh. “Really, Lando?”

“…Is there a problem?”

Hugging your belly, you suddenly registered feeling cold. He rushed to pick your discarded clothes off the floor, offering them to you. You stared. “I dunno. Isn’t it funny how it took one good fuck for you to want to repent?”

“I-”

“I know you missed me. But I’m more than what I used to be, much more, and I don’t think you’ll be able handle it. It’s as you said.”

Lando gripped your garments in his fist as his jaw muscles tensed. For a moment, he considered saying something he’d regret. “I know. I need some time to think. A lot, maybe."

"But I’ll be keeping you close in the meantime, yeah?”

He stopped you from grabbing your underwear yourself, instead motioning you to stretch out your arms so he could dress his woman with his own hands. This Lando was more gentle than any version of him you could remember. 

His palm was warm and protective against your abdomen, rubbing soothing circles as he helped you pull your pants up again. ““He”, you said?”

How hard he was trying. Not a winner amongst men, but it was him. One you wished you would never have to move on from.

For a vulnerable girl, it was easy to fall again. 

You sighed. “Yes. For the record, I haven’t decided on anything yet.”

Lando’s eyes lit up as he grinned. “I kind of wish he was here already. He would really… love… watching me drive.”

His smile slowly disappeared as panic set in. “Oh god. I’m such an idiot.”

“Oh really? Haven’t we discussed?” you smirked, watching as Lando hurriedly put his racing suit back into shape. “In any case, don’t use this information to rear-end a Williams or a VCARB before the end of the season. This stays between us for now.”

“Okay, damn,” Lando pushed your shoulder playfully, adjusting his collar in the mirror and making sure his mullet wasn’t looking too shabby. You snuck your hand inside his hairdo, messing it up again. You had to. “Fuck you. This is all your fault. That pussy was so good I lost track of time.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “Weak.”

Lando turned to you one last time before unlocking the door, a wicked smirk plastered across his face. You didn’t have to wait for each other to lean in. It felt longer than a lifetime while you were kissing and shorter than a moment after he pulled away, your fingers still lost somewhere between his curls. His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings as he gave a look to the brightest, smallest facet of his family.

“I gotta sprint, dear.” He gave you puppy-dog eyes. “You’re staying, I hope.”

You nodded. Lando reached for the hand in his hair, squeezing it in one of his. “Come watch with my mum! She can't stop asking me questions. Please.”

“But-”

“I want her to know. Don’t hide it. I ought to be a man.” He grinned, lifting your interlocked fingers up to his lips. 

Perhaps a ring was too early. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps it would never happen.

But in that moment, a kiss was more than enough.

For that weekend, he would stay.

“I’ll do you proud, okay? Let’s go.”

That weekend, you felt like you were doing to be alright.

🧡 a/n (footnote): as you may know, in the sprint following the events of this fic, he returned the favor to oscar by letting him pass, which made many people warm up to him again. he would have made me very proud :) i hope this was at the very least not terrible, as i haven't finished a proper chapter or oneshot in quite a while. i literally never like my own works after finishing, so please let me know what you think! any corrections are welcome! i strive for accuracy and studied lando's speech quite a bit while writing. thank you for reading and have a good one loves!

[romanarose]

My favs of 2024!

Hi guys! While this list wont be as extensive I wanted to highlight some of my favorite stories I've read this year!!!

If your story isn't on it please don't fret. 1. I simply have not read as much, and ive taken a heavy veer into the x men fandom 2. if i read yours and its not here, frankly, my memory is shit. Thats a me thing not you. you are all so wonderful! This is just a handful of highlights <3

TLOU, Star Wars, Mojave, X-men, Triple Frontier

Joel Miller

Rolly Polly : by @toxicanonymity Part of her raider!au, this cute little piece has stuck with me for months. Even did a lil drawing of it. Nice little comfort piece

Saving what was lost: Im so behind on this but a comforting fic dealing with sexual trauma by @mermaidgirl30

Devotion: Cult!leader joel! I havnt finished yet but i put my name on it! If you like Rooms on Fire, check this out! @noxturnalnymph

Tommy Miller

Bad blood: Stepdad!tommy and step uncle!joel. For all my Tommy girlies out there, if you ever wanted to make a good man break this is your chance. by @aurorawritestoescape

Jack Jackson and Tom (Mojave)

Done with you: GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!!!! A little one shot with gay sex <3 by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Jake Lockley

I don't dance: For my pride even, this cute little male reader one shot is so nice and soft <3 by @ivystoryreader

Din Djarin

Never say never: Pride even again! nonbinary reader representation which we need now more than ever. by @djarinmuse

Santiago Garcia

Catch that buzz: excellent smut by @for-a-longlongtime !!!! made for the pride event as well, my friend here really knows how to write smut that feels so hot and so real.

X-men

(Everything is on ao3. I have one writer here that is now a pal of mine i can tag on tumblr but if anyone happens to know any of the authors of the other stories, feel free to tag them and ill credit! for now, I'll be linking the ao3.)

Poolverine

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie ongoing series dealing with Logan and Wade getting together delicious slow burn with great smut pay off, and sooooo much lore to learn.

Void: Bit of a mindfuck. After the time ripper, logan gains some of wades 4th wall abilities.... he isnt taking it well.

Logurt

More than genetics: the fic that turned Logurt from a ship to my otp. Logan rescues Kurt from captivity, gay mutant roadtrip! cannot rec enough

Years do not equal experience: Logan and Kurts first time, Logan is more nervous than Kurt despite being the one topping.

Friends: Logan and Kurt explore their "friendship"

Kurt wagners problem: Kurts got a scent kink <3

Blue and Yellow: JUST FINISHED YESTERDAY! Like,t he writer completed it yesterday!!!! Logan helps kurt escape a dangerous ring, and go to the school.

The Tramp and the Vagabond: MORE GAY MUTANT ROAD TRIP! Logan helps kurt, taking him to the school. Kurt is shakey and secretive, but so is logan.

Logan/Remy

Not all who wander are lost : my current read!!! im INHALING its so good. Remy is a young street mutant living of theft and some prostitution. Logan, being logan, quickly becomes attached to the vulnerable kid and tries to help him.

Remy/Kurt

Sins of the flesh: remy kurt smut, a little catholic guilt on the side, yum yum for me, the guilest ex catholic out there.

Thank you to all you amazing writers!!! Many of these stories in the x men section are 10 + years old and i bet the writers would get a kick if we all left a bunch of nice comments (i always try to bc i know how much it meants)

Its been a rough year, for me, my country, and for the world. Thank you for giving me stories to escape into <3

[academicdisasterfic]

Writing Interview

tagged by the inimitable @lqtraintracks 💗

What’s your total ao3 word count? 181,945

Your top 5 stories by kudos?

- Sourdough with 3692

- Half Awake with 1333

- In the Shape of Things to Come with 1133

- A Melody of You & Me with 1023

- Career Day with 866

Do you respond to comments?

I try, but honestly, I’ve spent the last two years so burnt out and exhausted that it’s fallen to the wayside. I read and appreciate absolutely everything and try to respond when I have the energy; I still get flutters at Ao3 comment notifications in my email and I am fervently hoping one day to make up the slack.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

lol I absolutely am allergic to anything but a happy ending: I’d say a tolerance for pain but it has a sequel so not quite! Some of my microfics are quite angsty.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All of them lol - I think the one that makes me the happiest is Half Awake. Objectively A Melody of You & Me or Sourdough is much fluffier but something about the way H&D learn each other in Half Awake feels closer to my own idea of what finding happiness feels like.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet! Never say never - I’m thinking all the time of how much fun it’d be to write Drarry in various other universes.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes and it’s hilarious to me every time. Girl who’s got the energy

Do you write smut?

I try but I am absolutely no connoisseur. I tend to write sex scenes more quickly & with less detail than I intend, but it’s something I’m working on!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and it made me so happy! It’s such a huge compliment.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

An absolute banger that will never see the light of day with @cavendishbutterfly

What’s your all time favourite ship?

There’s Drarry, obviously, but Wolfstar is equally as sacred to me.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I started writing a longer fic about three years ago that was intended to be a very slow burn friends to lovers and was kind of processing my own divorce. I think I just moved on, both in my own life and as a writer. I ended up using some bits of it for When the Flood Comes - the description of Hogwarts at the start and the Golden Trio’s dynamic is from that other fic, particularly the part where Ron wakes up and has to reassure himself that Harry came back from the forest.

What are your writing strengths?

I’m definitely a character focussed writer - I love writing dialogue and emotions, and I think that’s probably what I’m best at. I also love writing setting & atmosphere but I’m not quite where I want to be with it yet - that being said, none of my writing is where I want it to be, I’m chronically dissatisfied with all my words.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I am not a plot guy. I struggle with holding suspense over longer works and I think I rush too much. Sometimes I worry about being autistic and the way I express thoughts and emotions: I’ll read other work and think mine is too simplistic. I’m not very good with descriptions either, I don’t tend to describe appearances too much.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Big yes!!! So many fic writers speak English as their second language and have to write in English all the time; I love seeing mother tongues being written in. I probably wouldn’t feel confident enough to write in a language I didn’t speak but I’ve seen people do it really well with betas who can translate.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I think I’ve written everything I really want to - perhaps one day a short angsty Narcissa/Pansy, I’ve loved the idea of them for a while but I’ve not had the time.

What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written?

My favourite fic I’ve written is When the Flood Comes - political intrigue was a new beast for me, but I loved writing it, and I also love Harry and Draco’s dynamic in it. Outside of fic, my original novel is my favourite overall, and I’m so proud that I finished it. I didn’t really believe that I’d be able to write a full novel until I actually did it, and it changed how I thought of myself as a writer. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

Tagging @cavendishbutterfly @saxamophone @saintgarbanzo @nv-md @sleepstxtic @oknowkiss @basicallyahedgehog @moonmanateee and anyone who wants to participate - I love reading these, please tag me!

[quartz-kilsviken]

Written in the Runes

Chapter 2

➸ Synopsis: Ekko, your mischievous yet endearing local troublemaker, trails a wealthy academy student from the topside. When you end up with the student’s satchel, you find a notebook filled with intriguing magical research. Unable to resist, you embark on a quest to uncover the secrets of this mysterious scholar.

➸ Pairing: Jayvik x reader

➸ Chapter Word count: 2,591

➸ Tags: slow burn, yearning, eventual smut, non canon compliant

➸ Notes: What a bunch of nerds committing crimes. First meeting, and omg, Jayce touched your shoulder—how scandalous! Hope y’all enjoy! Please leave comments or message me, I’m lonely.

You flip mid-air to soften your landing, hitting the floor of the destroyed room with a quiet thump. You freeze, ears straining for any sound that might betray the presence of the two men. The silence is oppressive, stark difference from the lively streets in the Undercity. It's hard to make out much in the dim room, but it seems mostly empty—save for scattered furniture and the odd pieces of stationery half-buried beneath rubble. If you had to guess, the crystals were responsible for the gaping hole in the building. The notes mentioned they emit a soft blue glow—an irresistible prize for a group of kids looking for something valuable, blissfully unaware of how unstable they are.

You step closer to the chalkboard. The messy scrawl you recognize from your late-night reading, but the neat, precise script catches your attention. Whatever they’re doing here, it’s clear they’ve only just begun. Most of the information echoes the well-established theories, but the neat writing introduces something new—new ideas, new angles. A few equations have been revised, a diagram of a stabilization machine has been subtly altered, its erased lines barely visible beneath the new ones. But the runes… the runes remain untouched. The focus here isn’t on how to wield the energy; it’s on how to harness it.

A loud crack—broken ceramic—jerks your attention away from the board. Panic floods through you as you whirl around. The men are back.

“Who the hell are you?” The larger man’s voice shakes with the same panic you feel, his chest rising and falling with quick, uneven breaths. You recognize him from the photo, though he’s taller than you expected. Your gaze flickers to the man beside him. His lean frame has stiffened, his hand tight around what looks like a coffee pot.

“I’m, uh, a fan of your work?” You wince internally at your own words. The response feels clumsy, awkward, and you can see it in their faces—your answer doesn’t help. It only seems to confuse them more.

As your eyes adjust, the man with the cane comes into clearer focus. There’s something magnetic about him. His gaze is sharp, intent—not cold, but calculating. It’s the kind of look you get when someone is sizing you up, not just as a person, but as a puzzle to be solved. You can’t help but wonder what he's seeing in you, how he's piecing together this strange encounter. His features are striking—high cheekbones, a jawline that suggests quiet strength—but it’s his amber eyes that truly draw you in. They shimmer in the dim light, molten gold, flickering with an intensity that makes you feel like he’s peeling you apart piece by piece, analyzing you, trying to figure out what makes you tick.

Then your gaze shifts to the man beside him—Jayce, you assume. You notice the tension in his posture, his eyes wide with uncertainty. He’s clearly unsettled by your presence, a stranger in his space. You can feel it in the way he holds himself—on edge, defensive—but there’s something more beneath it. A warmth, a flicker of sincerity that contrasts with the nervous energy surrounding him. His features are still, but his eyes betray something else—curiosity. He’s studying you, trying to read you, but it’s clear he’s unsure how to interpret what he sees.

“Are you here to rob me?” Jayce’s voice cuts through the silence again, strained as though he's forcing himself to address you.

You take your time scanning the room, then meet his gaze again. “Well, if I am, I suppose I’m a bit late to the party.”

A soft chuckle escapes the man beside him, quickly muffled by a sharp cough. Less rattled than his companion, he finally speaks up. “Then what are you doing here? Surely, you're aware this building is part of an active investigation?”

His accent catches you off guard—his words crisp, each consonant distinct and deliberate. You’ve heard it in certain areas of the Undercity, you realize. Rather than responding verbally, you decide it’s simpler to show them. As you reach for the satchel at your side, you notice both men stiffen. You exhale quietly and pull out the notebook. “Relax, it’s a book, not a weapon.”

Jayce’s eyes flicker with recognition as he takes in the notebook, his brows knitting together as you hold it out to him. He snatches it from your hand, stepping back to assume his previous position a few paces away. “Where did you get this?” His tone is sharp, likely because he already knows the answer.

“Would you believe me if I said I just found it?” You sidestep the question, avoiding Ekko’s involvement. Jayce narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced. The other man takes the notebook from Jayce and begins leafing through it.

“I’d believe you, if you’d admit you found it on my doorstep.” His gaze shifts to the bulge under your cloak. “Is that my bag?” His whisper is tight with anger.

“Jayce.” The other man’s voice is a quiet intervention, holding the notebook up for Jayce to examine. As Jayce takes the book from his hands, he begins reading, his eyes scanning the pages with near frantic intensity. Amber eyes meet yours, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I’ll ask you one more time: Why are you here?”

You pause for a moment before placing the satchel down carefully and turn to face the chalkboard. “This research… it’s revolutionary. I thought it would be a crime not to return it.” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “I also had a few thoughts about it.”

Jayce steps closer, his eyes still on the notebook. “A few thoughts? You’ve practically rewritten my entire research with your notes.”

You glance at the other man, who’s now leaning in to examine the notebook too. “You seem to know a lot about this.”

You shift slightly, voice a little rushed. “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve always been interested in this sort of thing, but I’m no expert.”

Their close proximity is starting to make you uneasy, so you step back to the satchel. Digging through it, you pull out the grimoire, a pencil, and a crumpled grocery list. Sitting on the floor, you smooth out the paper, flip it to the blank side, and begin to draw. You can feel their eyes on you, but you focus on the task at hand.

“This book is useful,” you say, gesturing to the grimoire, “but it’s not exactly a manual. Runes might look like a language, but they’re closer to a song.” A small smile tugs at your lips as you repeat your mother’s words. “Each rune is like a note. Combining them creates a melody—different tunes each time.”

You hand the rough diagram to the two men who now loom over you.

Jayce speaks first. “This one—it’s the rune for transportation.”

You get to your feet and point at the diagram. “Yes, but look here—” Their focus sharpens, giving you more confidence. “You’re using just one combination, but magic doesn’t work like that. It’s unpredictable. It shifts based on its surroundings.”

You see the moment realization dawns on both of them. The smaller man turns and walks back to the chalkboard, the soft tap of his cane echoing in the quiet room. Jayce watches as he revises the work.

“We need to adjust it,” he murmurs, “to make it adaptable.”

You take advantage of their distraction to survey the room. The objects Ekko sold him are gone—perhaps in another room, but something about the pieces scattered across the space makes it feel like they belong here. The work on the board looks frantic, almost as if time is slipping away from them. Then it hits you: magic has been banned in Piltover for centuries. There’s no way the explosion didn’t reveal his research… they shouldn’t be here.

“They won’t let you continue, will they?” you murmur, before you can stop yourself.

This catches their attention. You spot a flicker of something—grief? Regret?—in Jayce’s eyes. The other man notices it too, and breaks the silence.

“This work is, as you said, revolutionary. The council thinks it’s too dangerous. But just as you risked showing up here tonight, we’re willing to risk showing them they’re wrong.” The room hums now, almost like it’s alive. Something is drawing you in, pulling you toward whatever comes next. Jayce steps forward, the chalk in his hand almost glowing under the dim light.

“So, what do you say?” His voice drops, almost a dare. “Want to take one more risk tonight?” You accept the chalk, fingers brushing his, anxiety crawling up your spine.

“I stole from you,” you state, matter-of-factly, watching them both closely.

“I know,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And we’re breaking and entering to keep illegal research going. We’re practically a criminal enterprise at this point.”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “How do I know you’re not dangerous?”

The man behind Jayce laughs, low and dark. “Ah, that’s the fun of it, isn’t it? You won’t. You find that out as you go.” His smile is sly, tilting up at one corner.

You give him a wry smile back, the air between you thick with uncertainty.

“Mind telling me your names at least?” you ask, a teasing glint in your eye.

A few hours slip by unnoticed as the three of you work together, the intensity of the task drawing you closer in unexpected ways. What started as tentative collaboration has evolved into something more—a shared sense of purpose and excitement. The room, once cold and quiet, is now alive with the energy of discovery.

The three of you are practically vibrating from all the coffee you’ve consumed. Jayce is sitting in a chair while you’re on the ground beside him, trying to keep your energy from spilling over. “This whole time, I thought I needed to dampen the oscillations.”

Your gaze follows Viktor as he drags chalk across the board, carefully revising the final piece of the stabilizer before speaking. Your understanding of engineering and mathematics barely scratches the surface compared to theirs, but they’ve quickly realized that and patiently explain as they work through the last details.

“The crystals will only stabilize at high frequencies. You have to—”

“Crank it!” Jayce blurts out, his sudden interruption startling both you and Viktor. Viktor’s face lights up, his expression shifting as the idea clicks.

“Yes!” he exclaims, the excitement rushing in. “Yes, you have to... crank it!”

“It works!” you shout before you can stop yourself, your heart lifting as you look up to see Jayce’s grin, a mirror of your own exhilaration.

But the high doesn’t last long. As you both turn back to Viktor, his face is clouded with doubt. “On paper...” he murmurs.

The energy in the room shifts, and the weight of uncertainty settles over you like a cold fog. You rise, giving Jayce a quick pat on the shoulder before stepping closer to the board, the familiar sense of dread creeping in.

“We could test it, if we had access to my equipment,” Jayce suggests, his voice tinged with weariness as he rubs his face in frustration, clearly drained by more than just the lack of sleep.

You and Viktor stand together, your eyes scanning the research. It all seems so close, so achievable—yet still so far out of reach. Viktor mumbles, “Which is being destroyed tomorrow…”

Jayce leaps from his seat, his eyes wide with horror, mirroring your own disbelief. How could they destroy not just this research, but centuries of history? You know the treasures Benzo kept in that display—things too precious to lose—and you can only imagine what Jayce has gathered over the years. The thought churns in your stomach. The fear of magic, of knowledge being erased for safety’s sake.

Viktor interrupts your spiraling thoughts, turning to Jayce with an apologetic look, his voice soft and hesitant. “Oh, uh... y-yeah, I meant to tell you.”

“That research is everything! My—my whole life!” Jayce’s voice cracks, the weight of those words sinking deep into your chest. He looks ready to crumble. It’s strange, standing next to someone who’s lived a life so different from yours, yet you both share this one, burning connection to magic.

“Maybe if we show them the equations...” Jayce’s eyes are frantic, seeking a way out, a solution. Suddenly, the lock onto you. “You could speak to them about the runes. Show them what we’ve discovered.”

A cold chill runs through you at the suggestion. Speak to the council? The council. The very idea makes your stomach turn. You’d rather swim through the polluted river all the way back home than face them.

Before you can voice your refusal, Viktor speaks, his tone harder than before. “We need more than promises. We need proof.”

Jayce sinks back into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat. But your eyes don’t leave Viktor. He won’t meet your gaze, but you can see the familiar gleam in his eyes—the same gleam you’ve seen many times before in a certain white-haired troublemaker back home. That look always ended with you hiding him from the Enforcers.

Jayce runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Not without the crystals. The Enforcers took them all. They’re gone.”

“Locked away in Heimdinger’s lab.” Viktor pulls a set of keys from his pocket. You can feel the weight of them even from here, the sense of what he’s suggesting. You glance to the hole in the wall, wondering if you should just jump down escaping this madness. You’re not cut out for this.

“No. No. No. You heard the council. If we’re wrong—” Jayce’s voice trembles as he pleads, his fear palpable. His desperation is enough to make your chest tighten, but you can’t back out now.

Forcing yourself to speak, you cut in, your words coming out more resolute than you feel. “But what if you’re right?” The finality in your voice is sharp, and suddenly, there’s no room for debate.

Jayce glances between the two of you, his frantic expression softening, though the fear remains. “Why? Why would you risk this?”

Viktor’s voice drops low, filled with quiet determination. “Do you think it was my life’s ambition to be an assistant? Scientists live for discovery—for the chance to change the world. This Hextech dream of yours... it has the power to do that.” His words settle between you and Jayce like a spark, igniting something inside both of you. His conviction is contagious.

You flinch, feeling a warm hand on your shoulder, and realize Jayce is now standing between you and Viktor. His presence is comforting, grounding. You glance up, and for a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat at the sight of his eyes—they shimmer with something you can’t quite place, even in the dim light of the room. You hope the shadows conceal the flush spreading across your face.

“Our Hextech dream.” The words echo in your mind, and suddenly, you know there’s no turning back. The three of you—strangers in so many ways—are bound together by something bigger than yourselves. Fear lingers, but excitement quickly replaces it.

You want to pull out your sketchbook, not just to capture the moment, but to preserve its beauty—its significance. It’s as if you can feel history unfolding around you, a moment that will change everything. This isn’t just a turning point for you; it’s something that will echo through time, shaping the world. And you’re here, right in the middle of it.

[zaungrrrl]

Modern slash college au fic where Caitlyn smokes Vi outttttttttt. Walk with me here I have a long informal drabble in my mind like I could probably sit down and write smth for real if I wanted to… Sorry for every error known to man in this i didn’t say it was anything serious!!!! Established relationship already but they’re still kinda new i’ll save the slow burn for another night. cw for recreational drug use (obviously)

like Caitlyn lovesssss to get high at the end of the day because it relaxes her and she sleeps better and like one night Vi is staying over after they spent too long working on their respective assignments and Vi is like. kind of restless cannot sleep and Caitlyn just isn’t that tired at that point like she’s on her phone scrolling on reels… eventually after Vi heavy sighs Caitlyn is like “Vi what’s up” and she’s kinda simple with it “I can’t sleep… too wound up from studying all day” and this is when Caitlyn has a brilliant idea

*heavy sigh* do you want to try something *pulls out a rolled joint from her bedside table*

vi: “do i want a cigarette right now?”

cait: “no it’s a joint… like weed? marijuana?”

imagine the fanciest pre-roll of weed u can imagine and triple that idea. caitlyn is rich as hell you knowwww she’s only buying top shelf stuff

vi rolls her eyes, but with no malice at all “i know what weed is. i’ve just never seen it look so fancy. just looks like a cigarette there.”

“that’s kinda intentional… not that i’ve ever gotten caught with weed but at least on first glance it’s not like… a bag of flower. plus i can’t really roll myself”

Vi laughs a little at that, trying to envision a really botched joint made by caitlyn… She knows caitlyn partook in smoking weed at parties, she preferred it to alcohol (no hangover 😄) but Vi maybe assumed it was more of a social smoking thing.

“You could always ask me… I mean I roll my own cigarettes sometimes it can’t be much different from tobacco. And jinx says buying stuff pre rolled is more expensive too.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that. Do you not smoke?”

“meh…” Vi scratches her head “just never really got into it i guess. made me sluggish every time i tried it, i don’t really like that feeling. Jinx is into it though.”

“oh…” Caitlyn never wants to pressure anyone, especially Vi, into doing anything. “we don’t have to smoke if you don’t want to then. it just helps me relax when i feel wound up… i guess”

“no, i’ll smoke with you. you said it helps you relax right?”

caitlyn nodded

“i feel like i could only smoke with you and actually enjoy it. just don’t let me get too high, okay?”

they move outside to caitlyn’s balcony and just sit on the ground. vi allows caitlyn to lead the way on this, acting as an observer who has been graciously let in on this private, almost meditative ritual.

caitlyn plays some music on her phone quietly and flicks on the lighter a few times, and takes a looooong drag and exhales as if she’s finally able to relax a bit

she extends the joint to vi and restates that she doesn’t have to smoke anything if she doesn’t want to. vi is like… give me the damn joint

vi is a bit more apprehensive with it, but she takes a drag and only coughs a small amount but cait freaks out

“are u okay??! do you need anything i have water or we can just stop like it’s fine we ca-“

“i’m okay!!!!! just kind of different from tobacco”

caitlyn then takes another drag and sits with the joint in her hand for a second. she is a bit nervous to suggest this, her body language closing up a little and she’s fidgeting with the hem of her sleep shirt

“there’s… an easier way… if you want less of that burning sensation in the back of ur throat…”

😏 shotgunning 😏

vi: “sure, ill try it”

cait: *long sigh* “okay, open your mouth”

vi gets kinda flirty with it LMFAO she’s like “anything for you, cupcake” (she doesn’t really know what’s going on)

cait: be serious!!!!!! open!!!!!

vi hums in response, parting her lips

cait: comes in close… Probably holding vis face… takes a looooooong drag even longer than the one before, hovers her mouth over vis and lets out a gentle exhale

vi is kind of shocked at the action, but she catches on that if caitlyn is exhaling the smoke it’s her time to inhale it… and like caitlyn had suggested, it was much smoother

cait pulls back after a second, but their foreheads are still touching. she’s feeling it a bit now. much more relaxed, a bit carefree, as if the weight of the world has been lifted off her shoulders.

“any better?” she asked

vi was actually stunned like didn’t know what to say but eventually she smiles and is like “much better.” she waits a beat, “might need you to do that again”

caitlyn laughs gently, repeating the action again

vi is also now feeling it, but she’s a bit more silly with it.

they sit in silence not feeling the need to fill the space with words, they’re fine just being in each others space

vi: “if you wanted to kiss me you could have just done it ykno” and smirks

cait is immediately stammering kind “wait no i was actually trying to help but like yeah i always wanna kiss you but like did it help like it was smoother right????? I read about it somewh-“

vi cuts her off and kisses her 😏 gently though… it’s very sweet

she smiles into it, and cait is a little caught of guard but quickly embraces it…

i can keep going muahahaha :3c

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

You had that one soulmate au for Cor/Nyx and I wonder how it would continue.

Because I think this is the first fic I've seen where it's Cor who wants to start the relationship and not Nyx. At least, that's the impression I've got from reading it - that Cor is willing to look for his soulmate, but Nyx really really doesn't want one.

Nyx is very, very conflicted about his soulmate. It's not that he dislikes the notion in general, just that his is a Lucian and a soldier? That's a fact that's hard to breathe around some days. So he would never seek them out on purpose.

Now Cor? Cor has always been to loyal and dutiful to Regis to leave and look for his soulmate. Because he would have to leave, since they're obviously not from Lucis. Galahd is far and not the friendliest place when it comes to being Lucian. For Cor it has always been 'there are more important things going on than looking for his soulmate'.

But once Cor knows they're close? That they're Kingsglaive?

Well

That's close enough to look. To at least know

Not that he has any real plan of approaching his potential soulmate, mind. He's very aware of the fissures of tension running between the Kingslglaive and everyone else.

[halojalex]

the more i read multi-chaptered fics, especially slow burn ones, the more i feel like i lose faith in my own chaptered fic that i have yet to even start

like i don't mean this in a self-pitying way, i just feel like i don't have enough motivation to write it as well as some of the other slow-burn fics i read. it's not even like i don't like the premise, like i feel as though it could be really good if written well, i just don't have the motivation to even start it

[liveyun]

Honestly, I don’t like bullet pointed fics either. Just doesn’t read as good. If you end up doing more bullet pointed fics, I probably won’t read them and I’m sad about that as I like your fics when they’re written normally 🥺

hello.

it’s okay if you won’t read them.

[allthegoodusernamesaretakenagain]

me, giggling and kicking my feet as i write the next chapter, knowing the slow burn is finally burning, we have hit the Will They/Won't They Era, and the geurdo desert segment is coming up.

49 chapters and 185,101 words later.

[sorenlionheart]

i am dangerously close to making my own interpretation of superman

[nateslehky]

listen.... i love matthew and sasha as much as the next person, but sometimes i really do miss them

[theflyingfeeling]

fictalkfictalkfictalk

[crybaby-bkg]

writing a slow burn enemies to lovers fic is. a lot harder. than I had expected.

[disdaidal]

The way I'm still not finished with writing the first two ideas I had in mind for this ship, I'm suddenly getting two more. 🙈🙊 Could somebody please arrange it so that I'd have all the time in the world to write it all? Because 24hrs a day is simply not enough.

[theonlyominerd]

Happy Dragon Age Day! :D

Dragon Age owns my soul right now (if you can't tell lol), and managed to spark my want to write again. Never thought it would happen, but here we are lol And of COURSE it's a Solavellan fic, because I am deep in that hell and always will be. For anyone who wants to read it, it's over on AO3 :D