#here comes the avalanche of tags

[glow-205]

Day 27: Siblings

@bluegecko98

(nearly) All of them!

[28ms28]

HAPPY NEW YEAR

(if you wanna spoil your new year further here's all the other parts )

[getvalentined]

Biting my own fingers to keep from going off on too much scientific bullshit in this next chapter of Smoke and Mirrors because Nobody Needs All That and it breaks the pacing but also MAYBE I NEED TO EXPLAIN THAT GENESIS COPIES ARE JUST MEN WITH A DISEASE WHO WENT ALONG WILLINGLY—

[chilumi-shipper]

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!

[nymphea0]

Masquerade 🎭

Monster x reader series. (Concept)

Yan!Vampire x Reader

Have you ever thought. Creatures like vampires and myth stuff was real?, you don't think so?. That's the first thing you thought. But darling.. they are real and exist.

.

.

.

As long as you live on earth, you always think that earth is a boring world where you are unlucky to be born in this world.

There are no kingdoms, super powers, heroes and villains, princes and princesses, a hunter and a traveler. Plus... fantasy creatures! Elves, vampires, werewolves and the like!

Well, maybe that's what you thought at that time. But... here you are. Running with breathless energy, dragging the burden of an 18th century dress with a touch of goth.

Running between the snow and the dense shade of the forest at night. Heart pounding hard, you stop for a moment to catch your breath. Looking around, the quiet atmosphere without any sound of nocturnal animals or wind, with your breath coming out roughly. You are experiencing shortness of breath.

'Crack'

Like a deer about to be eaten by a wild animal! You ran without looking back after hearing a broken grumbling voice!.

Crouching, leaning on a tree trunk, this black dress with a touch of ruby ​​​​stone felt very heavy on your body, until you fell following the avalanche of snow!.

Running back even though your body screamed to stop! You crossed the frozen lake! Dragging the dress you were wearing.

Looking back, that's where you saw so many groups of bats and crows fly more closer to you at dark night sky.

And the figure of a man in noble vampire clothes. A jet black cape, like a bat fluttering wide! You ran faster but the ratio of humans to vampires was 1:10. Of course. You were immediately caught.

Falling on a frozen chunk of air. Above you. The man aligned his face.

Handsome, white skin like a corpse, eyes as red as blood and shining like a ruby, long jet black hair with natural waves. The man showed his sharp fangs.

"Ohh~~.. my darling is so clever and fast, thinking you can run away from me?, of course it will be like that"

A deep masculine voice, with a chuckle of disdain for you.

He poke poke your head with contempt.

"Besides, humans are a bit stupid. I understand that. Behave my darling, you accepted my invitation, that means.. you are willing to be my Atheare, my mate~"

"Now.. be a good girl~"

That was the last sentence before a fang pierced your skin that had turned pale from the cold

This figure.. is what you call a vampire. Yes. vampires. They are real and exist.

Waiting for you in the darkness so obediently that you let your guard down.

.

.

.

*(Note : Should i continue this series project? Or no?)

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

©️Nymphea0 2024, OG story, Project series Supranatural OC monsters.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

You get my motor running

Written for the day 27 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles, and for round one of the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Traffic & Handjobs

Rated: E

Tags: Established Relationship; Post-Vecna; Some vague references to PTSD; Handjobs; Semi-public sex

“Paper towels,” Steve barks, throwing himself into the passenger seat and slamming the door. A little avalanche descends off the van's roof. Eddie flinches back to attention. 

“That's a curse word I haven't heard before.”

Steve scowls, brushing snow from his hair. It leaves the carefully styled strands ruffled and sticking up at odd angles, giving him a slightly manic look. 

“Hilarious. There is a fucking truck lying in a ditch, like half a mile from here, paper towels all over the place. Police are waving the cars past, but there’s hundreds in front of us. It’ll be hours before we get out of here.” 

“Huh,” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms. “Huh.”

They sit in silence for a while. 

“We should’ve gone yesterday,” Steve mutters. His leg starts twitching. “Everyone and their mother wants out of the city for the holidays, we should’ve known traffic would be fucking crazy. We’ll never make it to Hawkins on time at this rate. The others will-” 

“They’ll survive, Stevie,” Eddie says, catching his hand and running his fingers over his knuckles. They’re raw from the frosty air, dry skin coming off where Steve picked at it. A habit he's developed in the aftermath of everything, now that there's nothing left to punch, nothing left to go at with nail bats and axes and molotovs. “It's only Christmas dinner.” 

Steve’s fingers flex and Eddie knows he wants to argue, but then he sighs. 

“Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, I'm just-” 

“Nervous,” Eddie says, tangling their fingers together. “I know, big boy.” 

It hasn't been easy for either of them, leaving Hawkins, but Eddie knows that it's been even harder for Steve. Steve, who's been involved in the Upside Down shit from the get-go, who's spent the better part of his teenage years fighting monsters - the fanged and clawed kind as well as the human-shaped ones. Who still wakes up screaming sometimes, throwing punches at the pillows, trying to protect his loved ones from threats that are long gone. 

“We'll be here for a while, honey,” Eddie says. “Nothing to be done about it. Just relax.” 

“I wish I could,” Steve groans, head thudding against the backrest, and fondness blooms in Eddie’s chest.

“Well,” he mutters, shifting his gaze back to the road, at the same time that his hand lets go of Steve’s fingers and travels to his thigh. “I think I can help you with that.” 

Steve gasps. Eddie stays focused on the road. He doesn’t need to turn his head to know there’s a blush slowly spreading over that pretty face.

“What are you doing?” Steve’s voice is a low, frantic hiss, but he makes no attempt to swat Eddie off. Eddie grins, shifting his hand just a little bit further upwards, and Steve bucks in his seat. “Are you insane? What if anyone sees?” 

“Well,” Eddie drawls, letting his eyes roam over the surrounding vehicles. Most of the drivers are staring off into space, some drumming their fingers to the sounds of their radios, some arguing with their passengers. Nobody is paying them any attention. His palm finds the bulge in Steve’s pants and cups it in a firm grip. “Guess we’ll just need to be subtle about it, huh?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see how Steve’s face twitches as he silently weighs his options. 

“I mean, we could always wait and pull into a side road later,” Eddie shrugs. “But you said it yourself. It’ll be hours...” 

For a few seconds, the only sound is that of tires crunching on snow.

“You’re such an asshole,” Steve snaps, shimmying in his seat so that he can lift his hips and unzip his pants. “C’mon then, make it quick.” 

“Well, aren’t you generous?” Eddie coos, and reaches over. 

As far as handjobs go, it’s one of the odder ones he’s given. 

He needs to keep one hand on the steering wheel and his feet on the pedals, so the angle is awkward. He also can’t watch Steve’s face as he usually does, but they’ve been together long enough for his imagination to fill in the gaps. Steve makes a needy little noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, rutting up into Eddie’s hand, and he can just imagine the way he flushes, the way he bites down on that pink bottom lip to keep louder sounds from spilling out. For all his initial reluctance, it takes him mere seconds to get hard, and soon his breathy whines are joined by the wet sound of his precome-slickened cock fucking in and out of Eddie’s palm.

Steve never believes him when he says it, but Eddie can feel his orgasm coming before he himself does. He’s learned to read the little telltale signs - the stutter of his hips, the minute hitch of his breath, the way his cock starts twitching in anticipation. Today is no exception. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-” Steve moans, trying to jerk away, to tuck himself back in, but Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and tightens his grip, keeping him in place. Eyes trained at the snowflakes falling beyond the windshield, he lets Steve shake apart in his hold, head thrown back into a silent scream, spilling hot and wet all over Eddie’s hand and his pants and the seat. By the time his breathing evens out, the cars in front of them have started moving again. 

“Well?” Eddie asks, wiping his hand on his pants. “Relaxed now?” 

Steve huffs, a breathy and incredulous thing, but his features have gone soft and content.

“Relaxed and fucking filthy. How are you gonna explain the stains to the others, genius?” 

“Well,” Eddie winks. “Maybe someone up there can lend us a paper towel.” 

Steve almost makes him walk the rest of the way, but he thinks it’s well worth it.

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie Bingo

[eoe-1379]

Avalanche Part 2

You can read Part 1 here!

Sexual themes and language - minors do not interact.

Tags: threesome, blowjobs, sharing *ahem* fluids, anal, edging, dirty talk, praise kink, fun sex (laughing and general sex positivity) - 🤷‍♀️

Enjoy ;p

“It's my turn,” Caleb mumbled into the crook of your neck, unable or unwilling to pull himself from the warm, sweet scent of your skin.

Zayne’s tall legs caged both of you in on the sofa, his touch wandering politely over your hips while Caleb’s suckling threatened to render you powerless.

“Truth or dare?” Zayne breathed, one cool hand brazenly wandering up your shirt.

“Dare,” Caleb answered between hickies.

“Take this off of her.” Zayne’s tone darkened with his request, his fingers tugging helplessly at the thin fabric over your breasts.

Caleb looked at Zayne, then his gaze shifted to you. His purple eyes scrutinized your face, searching for any signs of refusal or discomfort. His gaze was intense, filled with concern and a silent question, seeking your approval before proceeding.

“Do it.” You nod, lifting off Zayne’s chest to sit upright between them, raising your arms to assist.

Caleb tore the top over your head, tossing it onto the coffee table before diving between your exposed breasts. He bit and tugged at your black bra with his teeth, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Truth or dare baby?” he asks through the fabric.

You hesitate, twitching with a soft gasp as Zayne’s tongue finds your earlobe, his hands now sliding into the waistband of your jeans.

“D-Dare.” You shudder, hardly able to get the word out without moaning as Caleb pulls one of your breasts from its sheath and wraps his warm lips around your nipple.

Then he stops. The absence of his warmth is startling, and you instinctively follow it forward until Zayne's cold grip halts you.

Caleb sits back on his heels, observing the scene with a grin. His dark eyes study your flushed face, your rosy lips parted in longing, your hair tangled in a nest with Zayne's dark locks. His gaze wanders to Zayne's hands on your breasts and belly, and his fists clench. A tumult of emotions courses through him, a heady cocktail of arousal and jealousy swirling together. He struggles to differentiate between the two, the line between desire and possessiveness becoming increasingly blurred.

And then, there's Zayne. His friend. His rival. The man whose body is now intimately entwined with yours. It stirred something unfamiliar within Caleb. It's a new fascination, a sudden and unexpected attraction that he wasn't quite sure how to handle. Seeing Zayne's strong hands on your skin, his lips on your neck, Caleb can't deny the stirring deep within him or the quickening of his pulse. It's a confusing mix of desire, envy, and something else he can't quite name. All he knows for sure is, he wants you both.

He considered your dare for a long moment, watching Zayne caress and nuzzle you from behind, his arousal steadily growing. He took a final sip of whiskey, then stood from the couch, his arm outstretched, his palm awaiting yours. You took his hand, and together, both men helped you to your feet.

Caleb tipped your face up toward his with a pinch of your chin to kiss you. It started soft, his lips brushing once, twice, a whisper of warmth that makes your breath catch—before his mouth crashed into yours with hungry precision. Fingers threaded through your hair, angling your face steeper as his tongue swept in, tasting you like something sacred and starved for, the push-pull of tenderness and desperation blurring until you’re clinging to his shoulders, lightheaded from the sweetness of how he lingers, nipping your lower lip. He held you firm in his arms until he was satisfied, stroking the saliva from your lips after he’d pulled away for air.

“I dare you,” he murmured, his voice sensually low, “to go get ready in the bedroom - and don't come out unless I say.”

He kissed you again and sent you off with a pat on the ass, waiting till you were out of view and earshot before he sat back on the couch next to Zayne. “We need to chat,” he said seriously, making stern eye contact with his friend.

Zayne shifted a little uncomfortably but set his glass down to give Caleb his full attention.

“I’m listening.”

“How far are we willing to take this?” He asked, unsure of his own answer to that question. This was all new territory after all.

“I’ll go as far as you’ll let me.” Zayne replied, “You know how I feel about her.”

“Yeah, okay…” Caleb took a moment to rub his face, groaning into his hands before re-emerging more confident in his desires, “As long as she's mine, I think… I'm okay with anything that she's okay with.”

“And…us?” Zayne asked, hesitantly gesturing between them.

A silent moment of contemplation passed before Caleb shrugged.

“I'm game if you are, but let's keep the focus on her to start.”

Zayne nodded in agreement, picking up his drink for one more shot of courage.

“Hey!”

Both men turned toward the bedroom, seeing only the darkened threshold waiting for them. “What kind of party is this? I’m all alone!”

Both men smiled. Any leftover reluctance or uncertainty melted away at the sound of your voice. Their minds were made up. The path forward was clear. Nothing would ever be the same after tonight.

You meanwhile, had been biding your time cleaning…frantically. You gathered up every stray article of clothing, every mid-term paper and textbook still strewn on the floor from your late-night cram sessions, your walkman, and cassettes. Every obstacle that might potentially interrupt the evening's events had to go. You didn't want a single distraction or trip hazard to ruin this.

You could hardly wrap your mind around what was about to happen. Your heart raced with nervous excitement—but then you spotted your reflection in the mirror, and froze.

Your hand reaches for the messy knot hanging on the side of your head like a pom-pom, and a small noise of panic squeaks past your lips. You race to the attached bathroom and fix your hair, touching up your makeup while you're there - why not? Then you look at your clothes. How many days have you been wearing this t-shirt? Is that a ramen stain? God, you hoped that was all it was. You needed to change.

You strip quickly, being sure to stay out of the doorway for modesty's sake—which seemed silly afterward. Within your shared dresser, you dig into the bottom drawer—Caleb's toy box. Just as you had hoped, your lingerie was washed and folded, tucked neatly between playthings, a bundle of pink satin and lace. Caleb bought it for your birthday last year, after you told him wearing it would make you feel like Olivia Newton-John, and you weren't wrong. You slipped into the bodice and threw the shawl around your shoulders, before settling on the bed to wait.

Leaning back on your elbows you strike a seductive pose as the men ducked under the doorframe.

Caleb's eyes lit up when he saw you, his smile brimming with pride and affection.

Zayne was equally mesmerized, actually stock still at the sight of you.

“Whose turn is it?” you ask, sliding one smooth leg across the other.

“Mine, I believe.” Zayne blinked as if breaking from a trance.

You get up on your knees, inching toward him on the spring mattress.

“Truth or dare?” you ask.

“Does it matter?” he shuddered, looking down as you pulled him to the edge of the bed by his belt.

You shake your head no, smiling as you liberate the leather from its steel buckle.

“Not so fast, pipsqueak.” Caleb playfully tackled you around the waist, flipping you over his hips to the other side of the mattress. You giggled but didn't resist. “I’ll take my turn first, if its all the same you you.”

You snuggle into his embrace as he folds you up in his arms and kisses you deeply, one hand firm against the side of your face. He lifts your leg over his hip and rolls you on top of him, keeping you balanced on his pelvis.

Before you realize it, Zayne is behind you. His hand finds yours on the covers, an icy touch that startles you initially but quickly transitions to be soothing and serene. He gently pulls you away from Caleb's kiss and into one of his own. You can feel Caleb moving underneath you, but you're lost in Zayne's tender touch. His bare arms close around you, pulling you back against his cool chest, as pristine as marble.

“A-h,” Your breath catches as Caleb's clothed erection presses into you, hot and firm. His calloused fingers slide the straps of your bodice down your shoulders, the top folding to rest upon your waist, leaving your bare breasts exposed to the air.

Zayne's lips caress your shoulder while Caleb's hands slide up your thighs. The touches of both men become a blur of stimulation as you lose yourself in between them. Your arousal pools between your legs, making you squirm with desire.

“Not yet baby,” Caleb coos, pulling you off of Zayne. He cradles your neck, the other arm lifting your hips in the air before he lays you down on the comforter. “We gotta make sure you’re ready first.”

“Have you ever done this before?” Zayne breathed, kneeling to your right, while Caleb settled on your left.

“N-no!” You gasp, arching in response to Zayne's cold touch descending under the satin to tease your folds. His fingers warm in your heat.

A soft sound of amusement echoed.

“I wasn’t asking you, darling.”

After some deep exploration beyond your walls, Zayne withdrew. You crane your neck to look over your breasts and see him raise two glistening fingers to Caleb's tight lips.

Caleb hesitated, looking from Zayne to your juices dripping like honey from his fingertips.

“Have I ever done what before?” he asked raggedly, trying to resist the urge to taste you.

“This.” Zayne leaned further forward to force your slick into Caleb's mouth.

Your boyfriend scoffed, about to pull away, but then your intoxicating essence hit his tongue, and all resistance crumbled. Caleb grabbed Zayne's wrist to hold him steady, while he savored every trace of you. The veins on both men's arms bulged and pulsed as their strengths clashed in a silent battle for dominance. Once finished, Caleb released Zayne, only his expression wasn't one of satisfaction, it was one of insatiable hunger.

“Keep her busy,” Caleb ordered, vanishing from your sight.

“Where are you-”

Zayne interrupted you with a slip of his tongue past your teeth, making you smile. It was a familiar dance between you two, these battles of will and wit. Whenever you fought, he quickly overpowered you, always wearing that superior smirk of his that you found utterly irresistible. You were on the verge of starting a verbal fight, ready to parry and spar with words, when you felt Caleb's heavy hands wrapping around your thighs. The touch was assertive, a raw claim for attention.

“Hold her, she squirms.” Came your boyfriend’s stern voice from between your knees.

“Caleb! Ah!” You giggle and writhe playfully as Zayne wrestles your limbs into submission, sitting on your ribs with his knees on your shoulders, your wrists pinned above your head in his hand.

“I have my orders, darling, it’s better if you don’t struggle.”

“Zayne!” You strain once more in defiance before dropping, limp from exhaustion.

“There’e go,”

You can scarcely hear Caleb now, his words muffled and low. As you're trying to decipher his message, a hot wet shock shoots pleasure up your spine, making you arch and moan, fighting Zayne’s restraints with the strength of pure ecstasy.

Caleb knew all your favorite tricks, hell he’d taught you most of them. He kept his hands firmly on your thighs, spreading you like a book so that he could lick your pages one by one. He nuzzled at your clit until it peeked from its hide, then he sucked it between his teeth before sliding the full length of his tongue into your sopping pussy.

You groan, fighting Caleb with your knees, and Zayne with your arms. You failed at both, but you did manage to slip a single hand free from Zayne in the struggle.

“Christ you're strong,” Zayne chuckles, all his muscles flexed and he snatched your hand back, putting it in its place above your head.

“I call her the sex-hulk” Caleb chimed in, taking a break from bullying your folds. “She broke two sets of my handcuffs - one of them was real!”

“Sex-hulk,” Zayne laughs louder, his grip on you weakening.

“Fuckkk” you roll your hips with a desperate whine, “Can we f-focus please - Ah!”

Caleb’s face smashed against your cunt, nuzzling your entirety with vigorous speed and pressure. You couldn't hold back your noises any longer, it was too much. “Ooo” you whine softly, trying to keep composure, “hah, C-Caleb…”

“I'm here babygirl, you're doing so good,” he kissed your open pussy in between every word “getting so wet for us.”

Zayne sinks low, kissing your neck down to your collarbone, and eventually your breast. He sucked your nipple till it was throbbing, then he shifted and did the same to your other. One of his hands even found its way into your hair, keeping your head from tensing up as the pleasure increased.

Your moans grew louder, your pleasured contortions more extreme and involuntary. Caleb edged you to the pinnacle of bliss…then stopped.

Sweaty and tired from your first almost orgasm, you are helpless when the men make up their minds to move you.

Like a rag doll, they maneuver you further up the mattress, adjusting your limbs as they contemplate different positions. You hardly care. All the manhandling was worth it if they fucked you silly.

“On your hands and knees, pipsqueak,” Caleb issued his command in a gentle murmur.

You smile up at them both, their faces beaming down at you from the sky. You use all your strength to roll over and position yourself between them as directed.

“Like this?”

“Perfect.” Zayne’s chest heaved, stroking your jaw from where he stood beside the mattress. A cold thumb slipped past your lips, and he pulled your gaze up to meet his, green eyes narrow and lidded, staring right through you. “You’re so beautiful.”

His other hand had been working swiftly in the shadows, releasing his belt to drop his trousers. By the time your head returned to a normal position, Zayne’s lean refined cock was there waiting for you.

You felt Caleb’s hands on your ass, pulling the satin aside to slip two fingers slowly into your quivering hole. As you whimpered, Zayne’s cock teased past your parted lips and entered on the slide of your tongue.

You let him fuck your gaping mouth for a few pumps before wrapping your lips around his girth, keeping suction as you took him deeper with each stroke. The taste was distinct, captivating, and subtly bitter. It lingered on your tongue, a blend of musk and an undertone you couldn't quite place. All three of your movements became synchronized. Every time you pulled back on Zayne’s dribbling dick, Caleb’s fingers plunged deeper inside you.

You wriggled against your boyfriend’s hand, moaning and whining for more.

“You think you’re ready?” Caleb growled, his voice washing over you like a warm blanket, cozy and comforting.

Zayne smiles down at you with empathy, then thrusts deeper down your throat. So far that you’re forced to grunt your reply around his cock, spit and cum bubbling in the corners of your mouth. He tucks your hair out of the way, meeting your sweet eyes as you gaze up at him for guidance and approval.

“She’s ready.” He answers for you.

Your eyes go wide at the feel of something thick and hard pressing against your entrance through the satin.

Caleb slides his swollen head up and down your slit until your pussy is drooling and your hips are shaking with need.

Every whine is met by another thrust from Zayne. He had your hair in a fistful as he lost himself in the rhythm, fucking your face at an even speed.

You moan, elbows buckling, as Caleb’s thick member teases you relentlessly. You wriggle back onto him, desperate and craving his cock.

Sliding the satin aside, he gently widens your vaginal opening with two fingers, preparing you by easing you apart before fully immersing himself.

You arch your head back in ecstasy, allowing Zayne's dick to slip from your lips, a trail of slick desire trickling down your jaw. You couldn't care less. You were utterly captivated by Caleb's rhythmic movements, his firm grip on your hips both intense and purposeful as he drew you more forcefully against him with each powerful thrust.

“A-ah! F-fuck!” You gasp weakly, each breath hitching as you're caught between the lewd slaps of skin against skin.

"Here," Zayne says as he gets onto the mattress and adjusts himself until he is underneath you, "lay your weight on me."

You whimper, and while Caleb doesn't stop, he does adjust to accommodate your movements, shifting with you over the covers before you collapse onto Zayne's chest. The change in angle finally causes his cock to pop free from your pussy.

Both men's groans trigger an involuntary shiver along your spine.

“No, wait,” Caleb pants, crawling over your back until his hair curtains you. Zayne meets his gaze. “Switch me.”

Zayne’s eyebrows raised in a moment of understanding.

“Right.” he agreed.

They both departed from around you in a flurry of motion, leaving you sitting cross-legged atop the covers with your breasts exposed, a confused frown tugging at your brows.

Caleb took the spot on the bed, lying on his back. He slapped his pecs to summon you, a smile plastered across his face.

“Come’ere baby,” he said with glee.

You smile, narrowing your gaze in mock suspicion.

“Just what exactly are you two planning?” you ask as you settle over his hips again, this time with nothing but a slick layer of arousal between you.

Caleb grinned, one large arm reaching around your chest to lower you onto him. Once your head was nestled against his collarbone, he placed a heavy hand over your ear, fingers splayed, muscles taut. You attempt to move, but his strength keeps you firmly in place.

“Caleb?” you wriggle.

“Hold still baby.” he breathed intensely, his words scattered between gasps.

Something was happening, but all you could see was the twitch of his Adam's apple, the rise and fall of his chest, and the hardness of his nipple. You tried to sneak your fingers up to tease the rosy mound, but he caught your wrist before you could reach. “Don't,” he growled, “not yet”.

“Ah!” You gasp as you feel the delightful squish of two cum-soaked tips probing at your entrance.

“Ugh, fuck,” Caleb groaned, his eyes rolling back as his dick rubbed on Zaynes, both members twitching against your sex.

“Here,” Zayne offered, guiding Caleb's dick into your slit. “Hold her still.”

Caleb grunted as he reached down to steady your wriggling hips, his laugh tickling your ear.

Zayne cradled Caleb's dick in his hand, poised to sink it into your hole, but then he paused. After a moment of deliberation, he took his other hand and plunged three curved fingers deep inside you, wringing and scooping all your juices into his palm before employing them to lubricate your boyfriend's cock.

“Huh!” Caleb twitched, covering his eyes as if he was embarrassed to witness this pleasure.

You whimper into his sweetly perspiring neck, your hips grinding in the air with needy desire while Zayne uses his hands to prepare you both with meticulous precision. His fingers inside you beckon you closer to the edge of orgasm, and judging by Caleb's ragged breaths tickling your hair, he was precariously close as well.

You jerk forward, free of his surgeon's grip.

“I'm sorry,” Zayne’s touch grazed your thigh in concern, “was I hurting you?”

“No,” You let Caleb pull both your breasts down into his mouth as you catch your breath, trying to find the words. The sensation of your boyfriend's warm, wet mouth on your skin is a soothing balm, allowing you a moment of respite as you attempt to gather your scattered thoughts. The words, however, seem to be just out of reach, the intensity of the experience leaving you momentarily speechless. “I just can't take any more foreplay.” You manage to utter at last.

“Oh," Zayne hummed thoughtfully, and in the silence, you could hear the delicate slip-slaps indicative of the medical student fervently masturbating your boyfriend. His hand on your hip gently directed you down. "Sit," he commanded, his tone growing ragged as he watched you lower your pussy onto Caleb's thick, throbbing dick still held in his hand.

Zayne carefully guides you onto Caleb's engorged member, gradually using both of his hands to grind your hips against Caleb's pelvis until your clit was throbbing.

“Uhn,” you moan loudly, letting Zayne catch you as you fall backward, your core weak.

“Lay forward,” He whispers in your ear, a cool hand flat on your tailbone, steering you into submission as he pushes you onto Caleb once again. You bite your lip as Zayne positions himself behind you.

Caleb began to thrust his hips off the mattress, in small strokes at first, teasing you into a state of delirium.

A sharp stab of pain shot up your backside making you gasp, your body tensing and halting on instinct.

“Relax, Pip,” Caleb's soothing voice lulled you back into a state of calm, as the pressure around your rear entrance gradually increased. “Deep breaths. You're doing so well. Such a good girl.”

“Uhnn!” you cried out, grabbing Caleb’s hand for support as Zayne’s smooth cock breached your asshole.

“Oh fuck,” Zaynes whisper of pleasure was faint, but primal, eliciting a quiver down your spine.

“Go deeper, she can take it,” Caleb said, spreading your asscheeks for Zayne before re-starting his subtle thrusts into your cunt.

You shake your head, eyes misty.

“I d-don’t…ah! K-know…” You squeal as Zayne slides deeper, until you can practically feel both cocks kissing through your walls. The pain subsided, and your hole even relaxed, pulling Zayne deeper in welcome.

“Mhm,” he chuckled, “What were you saying?”

“I told you.” Caleb boasted through a grunt, thrusting a little harder into your fluttering pussy.

You were stretched so wide you wanted to scream, but god it felt so good.

Zayne leaned over your back, locking an arm around you like a seatbelt. Then, slowly, he guided your movements to match his, sliding you up and down Caleb's shaft.

“Just like that,” he hummed in your ear, suckling on your earlobe until you moaned. “Should we make him cum together?”

“You fucker,” Caleb laughed through moans and gasps, his face contouring with pleasure as you and Zayne rode him like a saddle.

The three of you coiled tighter as a unit. Caleb's fist in Zayne's hair, Zayne's fingers in your mouth, your nipples alternating between Caleb's teeth. Your thighs clenched, your muscles spasmed, your body spiraling out of your control.

“Oh…guys…” You say through heavy breaths putting a hand down on Caleb's firm chest to steady yourself, “Uhnn, fuck-”

“You wanna cum first honey?” Caleb asked, kissing your parted, drooling lips with a smile. “I think we can allow that, don't you?”

“I suppose.” The man behind you sighed through a grin, his thrusts growing deeper and harder.

“No,” Caleb put a hand on Zaynes shoulder to stop him, “just sink it in deep. Trust me.”

You could hear Zayne's chuckle, but he followed the suggestion to a tee. Sinking as deep into your rear as he could get himself, his hot balls squished tightly to your ass, resting there atop Caleb's dense sack as both of them soaked you into oblivion.

You wriggled, you writhed, the lack of movement was electrifying and excruciating. Your pussy throbbed, twitched, grabbed, any desperate attempt to get a reaction from them. Slick started to drip down your thighs as your cunt shook and spasmed around their girths. Your abdomen coiled, your womb knotting as your body shuddered in climax. You cried out, but Caleb's strong arms muffled you into his chest. Zayne embraced you from the top, both of them holding you through the tremors of ecstasy, encouraging you with little kisses until your screams and your spasms had subsided.

You went limp, your arms and legs depleted, your pussy bullied numb, your ass throbbing. Even the stars in your eyes pulsated in synch with your thrumming heartbeat, your blood stampeding through your veins as it tried desperately to replenish you.

“Mh-hn” You whimper as Zayne slips out of you, collapsing with a bounce to your left. He pulls you into a sweet kiss, savoring the taste of your languid tongue on his. He wraps you in his arms as Caleb slides himself out of you and snuggles against your back.

Their kisses coat your skin, from your neck, to your arms, your breasts, your hips, covering you completely in tenderness.

“What about you two?” You question, softly tucking back Zayne's hair as he leans in to kiss you once more. His lips are soft and persistent, his breath warm against your skin. The silk of his hair slips through your fingers, his scent enveloping you as you lose yourself momentarily.

Caleb is back to biting your shoulder, rough hands wandering your body, still hungry.

“Awe, she thinks we're done with her.” he snickered, kissing your cheek before whispering into your ear, “Uh-uh.”

“Think of this more as an…intermission.” Zayne grinned deviously, bending to nibble your neck.

Zayne’s teeth grazed your pulse as Caleb’s fingers dug into your hips, dragging you back against the hardened line of his body. Zayne purred, trailing his tongue up your throat to suck at your ear while Caleb’s palm slid lower, fingertips skimming over where you still ached.

"We'll let you catch your breath pipsqueak..." Caleb's voice deepened, his lips brushing against your shoulder as Zayne's hand descended to meet his between your legs. The men intertwined their fingers and began to stimulate your clit in unison. Their harmonized rhythm—Zayne's gentle kisses, Caleb's firm grip—left no doubt in your mind: if this was intermission, the encore was set to destroy you. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself before hearing Caleb's lustful warning; "But then, it's game on."

[penaltybox-gossip]

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Welcome everyone! I’m a new gossip blog and I can’t wait to spill some tea with yall! Please see the wag lists above and please check before asking about a player.

I’m gonna list some rules and guidelines for this blog to mediate things

1. NO SAMMY ASKS IF THEY ARE MALICIOUS OR CONTAIN ANY BULLYING TOWARDS ME OR ANOTHER PERSON

- any asks mentioning Sammy that become malicious or turned into an argument with me or another anon will be deleted

2. No bullying or back and forth arguments. This is supposed to be fun speculation

3. anything insulting someone’s looks, race, religion, or anything of that nature will result in a block

4. I give back the energy I receive. Be careful how to word your asks and be mindful what you say

5. proof must be verified with me before posting. Questions asking about a players location such as their house or overly personal questions about the players will be deleted

6. PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS BEFORE ASKING A QUESTION. It’s likely been discussed and we don’t need repeated questions

7. I WILL NOT ANSWER ASK WHERE YOU TALK OR ASK ABOUT A PLAYERS SEXUALITY OR THEIR SEX LIFE

8. Keep asks about Reese to a minimum. Don’t submit anything unless it’s relevant

9. Don't ask me about Dixie. PERIOD UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE RESPONDED TO WITH A MEME!

If I come up with more I will add them here. Outside of these limitations, ask about any player you want! 🖤

[cushfuddled]

When I first started shoveling Jayvik fanfic into my mouth a month and a half ago, I was shocked and delighted at the avalanche buffet of top Viktor and dom Viktor content. But I've started to feel like the detective who kneels down and touches some footprints in the dirt like, "Something happened here..."

Because I can't remember the last time I saw a fanon concept become...so ubiquitous? Even in fics where Viktor bottoms, he's a power bottom/topping from the bottom. Spotting a fic with an overwhelmed sub bottom Vik in the Ao3 tag feels a bit like the moment a snow leopard graces your Himalayan trail cam.

I DO NOT mean to suggest anyone "should" write more inexperienced/bottom/sub Viktor! It's just...as someone who likely missed whatever ancient discourse might've plagued the Arcane fandom years hence, I've been through this fandom song and dance enough times to recognize the smell of...what say, capital-O Obligation.

I just want people to know they can write whatever kind of fanfic they want. That's the point of this post. I hope someone somewhere reads this and feels emboldened to let loose/goof off/get freaky/whatever.

Because I can see why people would feel Obligated to portray Viktor as a top/dom/the sexually experienced one. He's physically disabled and chronically ill. Ableism so often takes the form of paternalism and infantilization. There's this pervasive notion that disabled people don't have sex. People think we're too "pure" for sex, or assume we're "undesirable" as romantic partners/that our physical or mental disabilities would make sex impossible. With that cultural context, it's a radical act for so many people to come together and choose to portray Viktor—a disabled, terminally ill man who struggles with suicide ideation—as a sexually experienced top.

One of the hardest things about being disabled/ill is the lack of control. You can't plan for the future; you don't know whether your pain levels will be better tomorrow or demand another trip to the ER; your life is totally in the hands of overworked doctors who don't care about you. So it feels kind of like an act of reclamation to put Viktor in a dominant position. In a safe, sane, consensual arrangement, all parties have control over the situation, but with topping and/or domming comes the Role of authority/power. Making Viktor an experienced, sly top/dom gives back Viktor's autonomy and agency.

So yeah. I get why this trend is pervasive within the fandom! It's fantastically subversive. I just hope nobody feels like they HAVE to fall into this dynamic.

I remember a Tumblr post from years ago where someone described the drawbacks of a supposedly "feminist retelling" of Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, wherein the heroin saves herself by her own strength and wits. This, I would argue, is a perfectly fine story to tell...but its lack of intersectionality betrays a shallow definition of feminism. In casting those retold fairy tales in a feminist, "empowering" light, one ignores the realities of the people who found escapism in those helpless damsels.

In a paradoxical way, when my MCAS knocked me flat on my ass for two years, I was always out of control of my life AND forced to take control all the time. All those overworked, traumatized, apathetic doctors meant I had to be my own patient advocate. I had to do my own research; figure out which treatment plans made the most sense; find doctors who took my insurance and could see me within six months; argue with Medicaid when they didn't want to pay for one of the drugs I'd been prescribed; find new and creative ways to feed myself when my body reacted like it was allergic to everything other than water and Cheerios. And god, I had to self-police myself all the time. At the doctor's office, you have to look sick enough that they believe you when you say you're hurting, but you don't want to seem TOO sick because the desperation will make the doctor diagnose you with "hysterical woman" (or they'll just assume you're fishing for drugs). At home, you want to project some amount of strength so you don't worry your loved ones or make yourself too much of a "burden." (You also don't want to have to manage other people's anxiety on top of your own.) My disability (autism) and chronic illness (MCAS) are invisible, but I imagine there's a lot of masking that goes into navigating public spaces with a visible disability/illness, too.

So...when everything's this constant battle for control—when you're forced to project strength every day regardless of your pain level—of course some people are going to find relief in stories where they're allowed to shut down. I think it's important to let disabled characters be vulnerable and overwhelmed and even dependent on someone else, because as often as disabled and chronically ill people are infantalized, so too are we expected to "overcome" our disabilities/illnesses through miracles of resilience and cunning. We're pushed to perform strength, cheer, and "normalcy" for the public, who find our disabilities "sad" and "uncomfortable." Every time someone refuses to put on a mask, or a relative tells us to simply get more exercise, or a politician rails against "wellfare queens," or a bus route gets cut or a bench gets removed or our doctors hand-wave our symptoms, our world reinforces the message that we are Too Much; that our needs are exorbitant, our very existence a drain on society. So many of us throw ourselves into self-sabotaging grasps at independence. We work ourselves far past our limits to prove we aren't a burden on society. We refuse help just to maintain that tiny sense of control over our lives.

I find it deeply comforting to read stories where ill and disabled characters are...allowed to be helpless, I guess. To break the fuck down and let someone else finally take the reigns for a while—to lift some of that burden off their shoulders. I love when ill and disabled characters trust someone enough to take off that heavy armor, revealing the pain and weakness beneath the facade they were forced to take up to survive, and are rewarded with warmth and reassurance and care.

At a certain point...is it not a little ableist in itself, to restrict a disabled, chronically ill character to one specific role? To essentially lock them out of a position where they're allowed to relinquish control and be taken care of?

In essence,

Disabled and chronically/terminally ill people are not a monolith. As I always say, what offends one person will uplift another. It's an uncomfortable reality, but there's really no such thing as perfect representation. I think part of intersectionality is being willing to accept that multiple things can be true at once, because everyone's lived reality is different. It's absolutely fine to prefer one trope over another. But if I find a fanfic offensive or uncomfortable, I can always click the back button with the knowledge that there's almost certainly someone out there who'll find that same so-called problematic content empowering. Whether fic writers prefer top Viktor, power bottom Viktor, bottom Viktor, switch Viktor, sub Viktor, dom Viktor, experienced Viktor, virgin Viktor, omega vs. alpha Viktor, and every niche in between...I just hope they go where their heart tells them and write what they want.

[wwinterwitch]

new vows – din djarin x gn!reader

summary: the first time din ever removed his helmet in front of you

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 2.5k

warnings and tags: fluff and angst + good ending, insecure!din, established relationship, kissing, the helmet's removed, doesn't follow the plot of the show at all (it's just din, reader and grogu being a happy family)

author's note: oof i hate how this turned out but my best friend read it and told me to post it so here we are, i hope it doesn't suck as much as i think it does

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

navigation | pedro's characters masterlist | star wars masterlist

Din was observing you and Grogu from the entrance of the Razor Crest, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against one of the walls of the ship. He smiles to himself when he hears the child giggling after you put a flower at the top of his little head, immediately reaching out with some difficulty to grab a flower from the ground and offering it to you.

"Thank you, Grogu. It's very pretty!" you say to the baby, who looked absolutely thrilled to realize you liked his gift. 

The kid stands from the ground, lifting both of his arms as a sign that he wants to be carried. Already familiar with the gesture, you quickly lift him up from the ground before laying on your back in the middle of the landscape filled with lilac and light pink flowers. The baby giggles again, holding onto you as you both lay there.

Din's smile fades just enough shortly after that when the inevitable thought pops in his head again. That annoying and sudden thought that always makes an appearance during the day. 

At first he didn't mind, finding ways to always push it away before it got to him. However, it's been more and more frequent these past couple of days and it's becoming a bad habit he seems unable to control at this point, and it's starting to really annoy him.

His mind is filled with all these doubts and insecurities. Not only because of the content of what he's thinking, but because it's completely impossible to push it away now. Almost like an avalanche, it falls down the mountain at a rapid, devastating speed and it only seems to get bigger as minutes pass. It destroys everything in its way. In this case, the prime and only victim is Din.

Perhaps the worst part is that it always ruins what should be pleasant moments. If Grogu is looking up at him from the ground begging to be carried, the thought is there. Whenever you wrap your arms around him or grab his hand when the two of you are exploring yet a new planet, it's there. Even when he's trying to sleep right next to you, hearing the faint sounds of the baby already asleep, you can bet that thought will be there to torture him.

Because all of those little moments he shares with his partner and son remind him of the fact that neither of them even know who he is. Sure, they know how he is, but not who.

Every touch is not really a touch, it's just skin brushing against a uniform. Every exchange has a helmet hiding his features. They can hear him laugh, but they don't see his eyes squinting just enough and the smile that adorns his face. They can hear him remind them of his never-ending love for them, but they don't get to look into his eyes as he says it.

And it hurts because his mind has tricked him to believe none of those moments are real. Because they've never seen the man that claims to care for them so much, none of it is genuine. It's just touching a uniform and hearing empty words coming from a helmet. It almost makes him feel like a droid rather than a human, leaving him longing for that real connection. 

He knows he probably shouldn't, but he craves that actual contact, which is something he never felt before you two showed up in his life. 

Being a Mandalorian and living by their code was easy. He never even considered breaking his vow because nothing and no one was ever worth it. What could possibly be more important than this? That's what he would always ask himself and he wasn't able to come up with an answer– until you and Grogu showed up.

Now that you two are here, it's obvious to him that his priorities have changed. He wants to commit to an entirely new code. To prove his undying fidelity to his family and make a vow to the two of you.

But that brings another set of insecurities that make this entire situation a lot more difficult for him. As much as he needs to truly feel connected to you, he's terrified of what that connection means. It's obvious that in order to obtain that, he needs to take off his uniform. Most precisely, his helmet– which is something he has never done in front of anyone. Ever.

So that's when his mind is yet again filled with negative thoughts. What if you don't like what's under the helmet? What if you already have a picture of him in your head and he disappoints you because he looks nothing like it? What if you suddenly don't love him anymore because he's not what you expected at all? And what if Grogu rejects him too? He couldn't deal with either of you not liking what has been hiding underneath all the Beskar.

That's the complicated mess that's been haunting him for a few weeks. That inner struggle he has tried to keep hidden from the two of you. Should the helmet stay on despite being an obstacle to reach the depths of connection he needs to have with his family, or should he remove it and risk rejection? Is it better to settle or search for more?

He feels pathetic. The supposedly fearless bounty hunter is terrified of even thinking about taking a risk. Going on adventures used to be a lifestyle. Now, the mere idea of it is enough to fill his mind with self-doubt, making it almost impossible for him to make a decision.

He thought about it later that day when the three of you were already inside the Razor Crest and getting ready to go to bed, really considering his options and trying to create different outcomes to this hypothetical conversation that kept playing inside his head.

You were telling Grogu a bedtime story when Din joined the two of you. He sat on the bed and listened to you speak as he watched the baby, who was struggling to keep his eyes open at that point, holding onto the little blanket covering his body. 

By the time the story was over, Grogu was already completely asleep. You carefully brushed his face with your pointer finger in an affectionate manner, smiling down at him before focusing on Din.

"Ready to go to bed?" you asked.

"You'll tell me a bedtime story too?"

The comment made you laugh. "I think you're a little old for bedtime stories."

"Ouch. I'm not old."

"I said a little old," you quickly correct, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. He quickly lifted a hand that was resting on your hip a few seconds later. "Not the same as just old."

You smile down at him as he gently caresses you from your hip all the way down your thigh before his gloved fingers trails back up. Your smile inevitably takes him to the dark corners of his mind again because he knows you won't be able to see him smiling back at you.

His next words came out very impulsively. "Can we talk?"

Evidently, you were a little concerned after hearing that given the tone he used. "Is there something wrong?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately...there's something that's been bothering me and it won't leave my head."

"Okay..." you said, trying to be receptive to what he was saying but still having no idea of what's going on.

"Neither of you know what I look like," he decides to simply confess. Why would he try to over explain something that is actually quite easy to say? "And I've never...you know, actually touched you," he adds, his helmet titling towards his hand still resting on your hip, hinting at the glove covering it.

"I mean, yes...but that's because you're a Mandalorian. It's what your people do, right?"

Din nods after your words. "It's part of our code, but...I don't know. It's been bothering me because lately this entire uniform feels like an obstacle. I still feel like it's a part of me but...it also stands in between us."

"I've told you how I feel about the suit," you quickly say in a soft, reassuring voice. "I don't mind it one bit."

"I know, I know. This isn't because of something you did or said," Din explains. "I guess my priorities have changed."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I care more about connecting with you than with my traditions. I've started to question things I never took a second to consider before you and Grogu showed up. I want to be able to touch you– really touch you. And I want to look at you and talk to you. Not through a visor and a modulator," he further explains, feeling like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. "I don't need to be a Mandalorian when I'm with you two. I just need to be Din."

"Oh, darling," you start affectionately, feeling so incredibly in love with the man sitting in front of you. "Whatever it is that you want and need, I'll support you no matter what. Helmet or no helmet, you're still the guy I fell in love with."

"Really?" he asks with evident worry.

"Of course," you immediately reassure him.

"I guess it took me too long to talk about this because...well, I didn't know if you'd like what's underneath the uniform."

"Din," you call in a very serious voice, hoping that'll hint just how much you mean your next words. "I love you so much. I love you because you're the kindest man I've ever met. You're loyal, passionate, brave...and you care so much about me and Grogu. I could stay here and mention a trillion things about you that make me fall in love with you every single day. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and nothing in this world is ever going to change what I feel."

He was quiet for what felt like forever, simply staring up at you while you held the helmet in between your hands so you could stare directly at his visor where his eyes should be. 

"You can't see it but I'm smiling, by the way. This is a good silence," he offers, which immediately makes you laugh.

"Is it okay if I take it off and see that smile for myself?"

He hesitated before answering. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"I promise I won't change my mind."

There was another pause before he finally answered. "Okay..."

You start to remove his helmet in a gentle, slow manner. If he wanted to stop you, he could at any second. You really didn't want to rush it because you still wanted to give him a chance to back down if he wanted to. 

The fact that he wears the helmet all day in front of you has never been an issue. You fell in love with the person he is, whatever he looks like couldn't possibly matter any less to you. That love is not going anywhere. Ever.

It looks like Din is confident in his decision because he doesn't stop you at any point. He continues to keep one of his hands attached to your hip and the other rests on his lap for a few seconds until he uses it to help you completely remove his helmet.

Still holding it with both of your hands, you look down to admire his face. You can tell by his expression that he's terrified as he stares back at you, impatient for any hint of rejection. He was still expecting to see the disappointment all across your features before you take a step back from him and reveal he's nothing like what you expected.

But that disappointment never appeared. Instead, he's relieved to see the smile forming on your face before you leave the helmet next to him on the bed, immediately reaching out to grab his face.

Din practically melts under your touch, closing his eyes and focusing on just how good it feels to have your skin touching him for the very first time. The way your soft fingers trace his cheeks before they move down to his jaw...it feels like absolute heaven.

And you take your time with that. Your digits explote his features as if contemplating them wasn't enough. You needed to touch every inch of his face in order to truly appreciate what's in front of you. 

The most beautiful sight ever. The man you love so much, looking even more handsome than you could've ever predicted. From his soft brown eyes to the hint of a beard, he's so perfect you can't believe you're seriously this lucky.

"So?" he dares to ask. Hearing his voice without the modulator for the very first time almost made you feel goosebumps all over your body. How is this man so pretty?

You could've just said that. You could've stood there and told him over and over how pretty he is, but it didn't feel like it was enough. No words would ever begin to explain the admiration you have for this man, even before you knew what he looked like.

After feeling his skin for the very first time, you could only crave more. It was probably that inefficiency of words and the need for more contact that made you lean down and kiss him for the very first time.

He kissed you back instantly, the grip on your hip tightening just enough as he completely gave in to you.

It was evident you were his first kiss, but that detail couldn't be any more insignificant right now. His lack of experience didn't bother you. All you could think about is how lucky and happy you are to have him as your partner.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before you pulled away, failing to hide your smile when you saw his face. It was evident he was already missing the way your lips feel against his. 

You stare at him again for a bit, caressing his flushed cheeks, before you finally decide to speak. "Does that answer your question?" Din was still too lost in his thoughts to reply out loud, so he simply nodded. His reaction after your first kiss made you giggle, and you swore right there that you've never felt happier in your life. "Good. I'd like to kiss you again if that's okay."

Another nod, this time looking more desperate, was all you needed to kiss him again. You got more comfortable as you sat on his lap, knowing you'll be there kissing him for a bit, feeling his arms wrap around your lower back to keep you close as soon as you sat down.

And as he holds you in his arms, he knows he made the right choice, silently vowing to be yours for as long as you allow him to.

[lewkwoodnco]

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth. 

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment. 

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops. 

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love. 

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[phdmama]

Hey lovely, how about 43 from the smut dialogue list if you’re still looking for inspo - and maybe buddie as the ship? (I may have started reading a few fics and it might be about to become a problem…) but any ship that takes your fancy if you’re prefer!

Hello my dear pal!! I am so so excited you're reading some Buddie!! xox

I am so sorry this took this long to write (I've had some real rollercoaster ups and downs over the past few days with this silly broken leg bullshit). So anyway - here is where my brain went! (Keep in mind, I am lots of painkillers and have barely written in months!)

43. “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

Show My Mouth (Your Favorite Places)

Buddie, ~2300 words, Explicit tags: getting together, first time, Eddie Diaz has yet another close call, gratuitous use of italics, only lightly beta'd by me, set somewhere vaguely post season 7ish?

They’re barely through the door of Buck’s loft and Buck immediately has Eddie backed up against it, reaching out to run a hand over Eddie’s chest.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says again, and yeah, okay, it’s probably the tenth time he’s repeated the words but that was too close a call, and Buck says as much as Eddie tips his head back against the door, his eyes closed.

“Take your shirt off,” Buck says, reaching for the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s dirty and torn and Eddie doesn’t protest, doesn’t even open his eyes, just lifts his arms and lets Buck pull the rough fabric over his head.

“If you wanted to get me out of my clothes, all you had to do was ask,” Eddie says and Buck freezes.

“I just. I need to see you’re okay,” he says finally, and Eddie just smiles. 

“Help yourself. I told you, the thing barely grazed me.”

Buck doesn’t answer, just flips on the light and runs his hands lightly over Eddie’s chest. There are some scrapes, a few spots that will probably bruise, but Buck has to admit Eddie is probably right, the damage is superficial. Buck doesn’t really pay attention to what his hands are doing, caught in the memory of the way the tree had come down and for one, brief, terrifying moment he’d thought… He’d thought. That’s all.

He’s still thinking, lost in it when Eddie says, his voice rough, “Buck.”

“What?” Buck startles back to the moment and realizes he’s been, well. 

He’s been gently stroking Eddie’s bare chest, and Eddie’s eyes are open now, dark and intense, fixed on Buck’s face. His skin is slightly goosebumped and his nipples are tight buds on his broad chest. Buck rips his gaze away and swallows, his throat dry.

He’s worked so hard to just be chill, is the thing. After he and Tommy broke up (no real drama, just Tommy gently letting him down), Buck has been so, well. Aware of men, is the thing. Men in general and one man in particular. Buck knows he’s been weird about Eddie from the very beginning, and he knows Eddie is just as weird about him, and there have been moments where he’s thought… maybe… but he’s never been sure. Never seen a look on Eddie’s face like the one currently leveled at him.

“Are you, um. Are you cold?” he whispers and Eddie’s mouth curves.

“Not even a bit,” Eddie says, and his voice is so low and gravelly, it legitimately sends a shiver down Buck’s spine.

“Are you in pain?”

Eddie just shakes his head, not breaking his gaze. 

“I, just.” Buck’s heart is pounding. It feels like an avalanche in his chest, and under his hands, he can feel Eddie’s heart racing, just as fast. “Eddie,” Buck says, his voice pleading, although he doesn’t even know what it is he’s asking for. 

Eddie knows though, the way Eddie always knows.

Eddie simply replies, “Buck,” and then lays one hand over one of Buck’s where it’s still resting on his bare skin. 

For one brief, agonizing moment, Buck worries that Eddie is pushing his hand away, but it immediately becomes clear that's not what’s happening. Eddie is not pushing Buck’s hand away, he’s pushing it down. Eddie slides Buck’s hand down over his own toned abdomen, slowly enough that Buck can feel the expansion as Eddie takes a deep breath, and then, oh god. Then he shifts Buck’s hand even lower to where he’s hard in his LAFD sweats.

Buck stares at him as Eddie presses his hand to the hard length of him under the rough cotton. “Eddie,” he whispers.

“I’m not cold,” Eddie says quietly. “I’m not in pain. I don’t need you to fuss over me.”

“Then what,” Buck swallows. “What do you need?”

Eddie just grins, and he lifts the hand that’s not pressing Buck’s against his cock to curve it around Buck’s face. 

“I think you know,” is all he says and Buck breaks.

He surges forward, tightening his fingers around the hard shaft under his hand as he pushes forward, his mouth landing on Eddie’s. Buck is frantic, gasping as he lets himself go, lets himself take what he’s been longing for for so long. He’s afraid that this might be his only chance, that if he takes his time, Eddie will change his mind.

But Eddie doesn’t seem inclined that way. He meets Buck in the middle, strength for strength, passion for passion, kiss for kiss, until he begins to gentle things between them. 

Eddie pulls back, and whispers, “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

He leans back in and this time he sets the pace with deep, slow kisses, syrupy-sweet, until Buck thinks his knees might genuinely give out.

“Buck,” Eddie whispers and shifts, letting his mouth move over Buck’s face to his neck, a quick nip to the sensitive skin behind Buck’s ear that has Buck groaning and shaking. “Buck, baby. Let me take you to bed.”

“Too far,” Buck mumbles, turning his head to catch Eddie’s lips with his own. “Can’t wait.”

“Couch then,” Eddie insists and doesn’t stop kissing Buck, just gently herds him backwards through the apartment until Buck’s dropping onto his couch and pulling Eddie down with him.

For several moments, Buck doesn’t think about anything at all except the feel of Eddie’s chest against his own, the taste of Eddie’s mouth, Eddie’s hand in his hair as they kiss. He finally has to pull back to take a deep gasping breath, and just stares at Eddie over him.

“Is this… is this really happening?” Buck finds himself asking and Eddie grins, drops a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

“It is if you want it to be.”

Buck just blinks at him. “I didn’t know. How did I not know you wanted this?”

Eddie shrugs, shifts his weight off of Buck so he can pull Buck up to sitting. “Let’s just say… when you started dating Tommy, I figured a few things out.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Of course not, Buck. You and Tommy, well. You were happy. Having fun. I didn’t think this was possible, but then when you guys broke up, and we were back to hanging out all the time. I started to think that maybe…” his voice trails off as he hooks his fingers under the hem of Buck’s t-shirt and starts to remove it. 

Buck automatically lifts his arms. “Have you ever… with a guy?”

Eddie just smiles, shakes his head. “Never let myself even think about it when I was young, and then. I guess it was just never the right time. Until now.” He lifts his hand, brushes his knuckles across Buck’s cheekbone, skates his hand down to curl it around Buck’s jaw. “I want to, though. With you, if you want that.”

Buck stares at him. “If I want that? Eddie. Of course I want that. I just. What does it mean?”

Eddie leans in, kisses him once and then again. He feels so good that Buck can’t help but groan as Eddie’s mouth moves to his collar bones as he slowly pushes Buck down onto his back, slides between his legs.

Eddie lifts his head after pressing one last kiss to Buck’s chest. “It means whatever you want,” he says finally.

“But,” Buck is compelled to ask, “what if it changes everything?”

Eddie laughs, low and rough. “Of course it’ll change everything, Buck, and I want that. I don’t think it’ll take anything away though. It’s just another way for me to love you, and I already do, so…”

He pauses and Buck grabs him by the shoulders. 

“Up, up, up here now,” he says frantically, suddenly sure that if he can’t kiss Eddie immediately, he may genuinely die.

Eddie snickers and Buck realizes he’s said that last part out loud. Then Eddie’s mouth is back on him, and Buck stops thinking at all.

He’s aware that this is Eddie’s first time with a guy (and holy hell, that’s a thought so hot that Buck’s brain might melt out of his ears) but there’s nothing in the way Eddie’s moving against him that suggests any hesitation about what they're doing. He lines them up, hard cocks pressed together, both of them still in their sweatpants, and sets up a slow, filthy grind. It’s good, so fucking good, that all Buck can do is wrap his legs around Eddie, grab onto his shoulders, and hold on.

Eddie’s kissing him again, those same deep, slow kisses, his tongue fucking into Buck’s mouth in counterpart to the way their bodies are moving together. Buck’s got his hands firmly planted on Eddie’s ass now, and it’s just as spectacular as Buck always thought it would be, especially with Eddie gasping into his mouth, sexy punched out groans that bring Buck closer and closer to the edge.

“How do you…” Buck starts and then shudders at a particularly innovative shift of Eddie’s hips. “Eddie, fuck, how…”

“How what, babe?” Eddie whispers against his lips, not letting up on the way he’s rolling his hips for even a moment.

“How do you want to come?” Buck finally grits out, holding on by sheer force of will now.

The question seems to surprise Eddie and he eases up now, rocking his hips so slowly as he considers Buck’s face.

“I mean,” Eddie says and then a wicked grin crosses his face. “You’re the expert here, Buckley. Walk me through it. What are the options?”

Buck stares up at Eddie and then can’t help himself, starts to laugh, deep belly laughs as his head drops back onto the couch cushions. “Not an expert,” he gasps finally, and sweeps his hands from where they’re resting on Eddie’s shoulders down his arms to his wrists and then back up again, to link his fingers behind Eddie’s head, pulling him in for a kiss. “Journeyman at best.”

Eddie is still grinning and rolls his eyes affectionately. “Fine. Journeyman. Whatever.”

Buck kisses him again, reaches down to grab Eddie’s hips and pulls them flush to his own, before working his way down Eddie’s neck.

“Lots of options,” he mumbles into Eddie’s collar bones. 

Eddie is grinding against Buck harder now, gasping, and Buck can taste the sweat on Eddie’s chest under his tongue. 

“We can keep doing this,” Buck manages to say and then groans at the way Eddie feels. “Fuck, that’s so. Oh my god, Eddie.”

“What else?” Eddie pants.

“I could… oh shit, Eddie, I could.” Buck swallows, his own breathing ragged in his ears. “I could suck you, jerk you off, whatever you want. You could fuck me,” and Eddie goes rigid above him, head thrown back, tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief as he lets out the sexiest sound Buck has ever heard, and Buck feels Eddie’s cock jerk as he starts to come.

For a long moment, the silence in the room is broken by the harsh sounds of Eddie’s breathing. Then Eddie opens his eyes, and the look on his face cracks Buck’s heart wide open. Eddie looks astonished, awed almost, as if his entire worldview has been shaken, and maybe it has, Buck thinks, remembering some of his own recent revelations. Maybe it has.

Eddie stares down at Buck as his breathing starts to settle, and the weight of him pressing Buck into the couch is as intoxicating as it is reassuring. There’s something so raw and honest about this moment — the way Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Buck’s face, the damp heat between them, the smell of sex intermingled with the scent of the peonies Buck bought at the Farmer’s Market the other day. Buck feels like every sense he has, and maybe some he didn’t even know about, are dialed all the way in.

“Buck,” Eddie breathes and his smile makes Buck’s throat tighten and his eyes prickle suspiciously. “My god, Buck.”

Eddie leans down and brushes a kiss across Buck’s lips, gentle and sweet, but as he does so, the extra pressure on Buck’s aching cock makes him hiss, his hips jerking up not of his volition.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie says, and without further ado, slides down Buck’s body and sticks his hand down Buck’s pants.

It doesn’t take long after that. Objectively, it’s nowhere near the best handjob Buck’s ever had — Eddie’s hand is dry, his grip a bit too tight, and his rhythm isn’t great, but none of that matters because it’s Eddie staring down at him, Eddie whispering things like “God, Buck, you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart, c’mon baby, give it to me,” and Buck is helpless to do anything but obey.

It feels to Buck like his orgasm is being drawn out from the very depths of his being, starting deep in his belly and rolling over him like the tide, inevitable and inexorable. Eddie keeps muttering words of encouragement, and when Buck’s head tilts back and his back arches, Eddie grins in satisfaction.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Just like that.”

It turns out Eddie is mistaken. They clean up, make some dinner, collapse on the couch with their food and beers, and it’s no different than any other normal post-shift hangout. In the morning, Eddie good-naturedly submits to the ice packs Buck presses against his bruises, lets Buck make him coffee and bring it to him on the couch. No different from any other close call aftermath.

But Eddie’s never spent the night at Buck’s like that. Never brushed his teeth side by side with Buck before crawling into bed, wrapping himself around Buck like an octopus, the bare skin of his chest pressed to Buck’s back, his hand resting possessively on Buck’s hip. He’s never brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin at the nape of Buck’s neck. And he’s never said I love you quite like this before. So yeah, it turns out that he was also 100% correct. It changes everything.

And it’s amazing.

[burntblueberrywaffles]

The Snowbaird fanfic rec list - part 2!

I'll be following the same formatting system as my first rec list, so do check that one out first! (though like before, I wanna stress that these aditional notes are based on my own judgment/what I remember about each fic, so do read tags and curate your own experience!)

Also some of the summary for some of the "heavy smut" fics in this list are somewhat nsfw, so I made sure to color the heavy smut mention in purple so they’re easy to notice, I do recommend skipping over those fics entirely while browsing this list if you’re not comfortable with nsfw content 🫶

(all the "last updated" dates are as of today, february 8, 2025)

Canon divergence

goodtime girl by framboise

Coriolanus walks out of the cabin right after Lucy Gray does. She never gets away. Well, she does, at first...but it turns out, surviving in District 12 is trickier than she imagined. 'If I come back here a second time,' he says desperately, 'will you be down the mines? Worse?' 'What's worse than being down the mines?' she retorts. She hates that he's seeing her like this, poor and pitiful. 'I don't know, entertaining some rich man.' 'There are no rich men here, sweetheart, this is District 12,' she says and she sees his jaw clench.

I thought I had read through all of fambroise's works when I got into the fandom, but I had missed this one! (another banger)

(complete)

avalanche. by narqueen

“You’re mine,” Coriolanus snaps. To punctuate this, he rolls his hips into hers, and fire licks down his spine. Lucy Gray moans. The scarf is bunching up beneath them. Coriolanus fucks into her again, harder, and Lucy Gray shudders. “I’m yours,” she agrees, easily, and it takes Coriolanus a second to recognize her declaration in the meadow. You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s written in the stars. - (Lucy Gray comes back with katniss.)

CABIN SEX IS SUCH A CRIMINALLY UNDERSERVED GENRE and this one is GOOD ohhhhh the Coriolanus characterization is on point; he would think that; the dumb bitch.

Technically marked as incomplete, but I’d say I find this one chapter to be a fully satisfying read you can treat as a one shot! Though of course I’ll still long for more 🥺

(heavy smut - last updated nov 11, 2023)

blinded by the lights of october skies by little baird (steddiemixtape)

“You’ve never carved pumpkins before? Ever?” “Why would you carve a pumpkin?” or, Coriolanus is introduced to fall traditions with Lucy Gray and the Covey.

this was so precious MY BABES DESERVED BETTER 😭

(complete)

A Victor's reward by Anonymous

In which Lucy Gray realizes the games never stop in the arena and how quickly a songbird can become trapped in a cage.

Some GOOD good smut; with an undercurrent of darkness throughout, that cumulates into a gut punch ending… oh man this hits 💯;;

(heavy smut - complete)

Will You Write to Me, Lucy Gray? by backtothestart02

Canon Divergent - Before deception, secrecy and murder, Coriolanus Snow was assigned to District 2 and Lucy Gray was going to write to him.

(heavy smut, incomplete, last updated Nov 24, 2024)

All is well by MitsukiSirya

It's a fix-it... Not the kind you expect.

(may involve ARENA SE-) ...this one is unhinged in all the best ways, I thought it was a delight to read!

(heavy smut - complete)

Post canon

Twelve Years by wertman25

Twelve years have passed since Lucy Gray Barid left Coriolanus Snow in the woods. Since then, she had remained a ghost while Coriolanus rose to power in the Capitol… but what happens when Lucy Gray returns and the two lovers meet again?

Sadly abandoned (RIP 😭😭) but god it is SO GOOD and absolutely worth reading imo;;; this resentful older Snow trying so hard to keep his heartless demeanor, but starting to crumble when faced with LG… that’s the good shit 🤌

(last updated: 20 Dec 2023)

Never Leave Me, My Sweet Songbird by backtothestart02

Post-TBOSAS - Lucy Gray's arrival in the Capitol was only the beginning of their twisted love story.

(complete)

The Rhythm of Order and Chaos by Carnival_Sleeper

Set almost three years after the events of TBOSAS, Coriolanus Snow has risen in influence, with soaring grades and a position that puts him in line to be the next Head Gamemaker. All of his plans have set him on a sure path to success, but a new project of Dr. Gaul's has him unexpectedly facing his past, his path once again crossing with Lucy Gray. Now Coriolanus is caught between the fear that Lucy Gray is a threat, and the feelings she starts to stir in him again.

now I confess, I am not done reading this one; (currently sitting at over 200k, it's definitely a chunky one!) but I've been enjoying it a ton, and it is so good i simply HAD to include it! the characterization and writing are so perfect

(incomplete, last updated Jan 31, 2025)

Alternate universe (in Panem)

the air you breathe by TheNewRomantic

Coriolanus Snow has been President of Panem for 3 years when he is first forced to go to District 12. It's a disgusting sort of place, really, and he'd avoid it for the rest of his presidency if he could. But that's where he meets the strangely enchanting Lucy Gray Baird. Faced with a rush of feelings that threaten to overflow into obsession, Coriolanus does everything in his power to keep Lucy Gray close to him, even if it makes her hate him forever.

GOD I LOVE THIS FIC the vibes are simply immaculate

(incomplete, last updated november 26, 2024)

Rose and Whiskey by ravenpuff1956

He smells good, the Alpha. Like roses and expensive whiskey. The ones the head peacemaker would indulge in occasionally when he happened to come to one of their shows. Lucy Gray Baird had never met one before. If Omega’s in District 12 were like diamonds, then Alpha’s were like pearls. 

it seems I didn't include this one in my first list, which is wild because THE GRIP this fanfic has on me;;;; made me FOREVER OBSESSED with omegaverse snowbaird thank you. it's incomplete and every time i think about it I mourn so badly 💔💔

(last updated 26 Nov 2023)

The Summer of Chaos by Anonymous

After what she had endured in the Arena, Lucy Gray didn't need to see new deaths, and she didn't need to see him killing. Lucy Gray should spend the rest of her life in peace, and when Clemmie could finally transfer her with the other Covey to the Capitol, she would, but for now, taking care of Lucy Gray would be Coriolanus's job. Sequel to "Chaos and Control"

Chaos and control was very good, but THIS ONE FUCKED EVEN MORE i love ittt the last chapter of this story is utter perfection to me, so very dear to my heart 😭

(complete)

The strings that bind 

Lucy Gray Baird and Coriolanus Snow are soulmates who seem to only be destined to meet in their dreams. Or so they thought

wow a fic that has a specific prompt I loveddddd that's so weird it's almost as if it was written for me

(lol joking aside, I enjoyed it a lot! the clinginess they have for each other is perfect)

(complete)

Love Bites by thpsyche

Nothing could have made him happier than knowing that Lucy Gray was safe and sound after the games, and yet, when he saw her happy and dazzling, he couldn't help the sick jealousy. "That’s her when she’s happy, he thought. Beautiful in a way anyone could see, not just him. That could be a problem." It didn't help that she would soon enter into heat, crashing and intoxicating. Luring Coriolanus to embrace the biology he had forgotten. For the 2024 Snowbaird AU Fest | Day 2 - Omegaverse

NEVER enough omegvaverse snowbaird

(heavy smut, complete)

Alternate universe (out of Panem)

she looks like the real thing, she tastes like the real thing by lysanderwarrior

Coriolanus is doing as fine as a struggling university student can be doing. He sleeps just a couple hours per night, works two jobs, tries to deal with the life he's been given and spends most of his time texting a girl he met online. Though, one day his routine is interrupted when the very same internet friend suggests meeting each other in real life. She lives in the same town as him, but there's no way he already knows her or happens to hate her... is there?

ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVESSSSS the way I acted in that comment section is like;;; deeply embarrassing for me but IN MY DEFENCE AGAGHSSKSKSKSL this story is absolutely incredible 💯💯

some people may say they don't like modern AUs and to that i say JUST READ IT TRUST ME

(complete)

A Kiss and a Blow by calicolette

Coriolanus shows his wife Lucy Gray that riding him doesn't mean she's in charge.

(heavy smut - complete)

Don't Keep the Devil Waiting by FrostedGemstones22

Coriolanus Snow doesn't care about fleeting high-school relationships, classroom drama, or making friends. All he cares about is restoring his family name to glory by winning the Plinth Prize. Even the addition of some pathetic voucher students to the Academy can't distract him. It would be laughable that they'd ever get a shot at winning it, right? Until...a twist is introduced. To win the Plinth Prize, you must work in a team. And worse, it has to be with a scholarship student. Coriolanus hates Lucy Gray. And she hates him. But together, they might have a shot at it. They both would do anything to win. ---- Modern Snowbarid!AU

The author of This is not a love song coming in with ANOTHER absolute banger; this modern AU is definitely more lighthearted in tone and I’ve been enjoying it so much!

(incomplete, last updated Jan 28, 2025)

Blind Faith by thpsyche

Father Snow is a devoted man of God, such so that he would do anything for his chapel. But his faith seemes unbalanced when a pair of brown eyes and a dazzling smile threaten to dismantle his love in God

DID SOMEONE SAY SNOWBAIRD PRIEST AU?? 🤌🤌

(incomplete, last updated Oct 9, 2024)

capitol snowbaird

you're my wish list by little baird (steddiemixtape)

“You know what you're doing, Lucy Gray.” “Me?” She asked, batting those lashes up at him. “I'm just being a kind guest, Coriolanus.” or, Lucy Gray knows exactly what she's doing during a work Christmas party and Coriolanus can't resist.

Good fooddddddd 🙂‍↕️

(heavy smut - complete)

these fatal fantasies by little baird (steddiemixtape)

“Don’t lie to me.” “I will. I promise.” or, Coriolanus ruins their anniversary and Lucy Gray has him make it up to her.

I certainly love breeding kin- (gunshot)

(heavy smut - complete)

And the earth is a bird on a spit in the sky by thpsyche

She'd spent twelve years with the leash around her neck, chained in marriage to the snake that caged her in the woods. She closed her eyes as she sang the last verse, feeling her heart burst inside her chest knowing exactly who she was singing to. In nights like these she could make peace with staying in the Capitol. In moments like these she could be fine with having a tyrant in her bed.

so fucked up but so good... (I don't think reading the first part is necessary to read this one, but if you decide to, DO READ THE TAGS first!)

(complete)

punchline by charmtion

There is a pattern to carving a new life in Panem. This is hers. In his bed, on her back, telling him what he wants to hear.

The cadence and mood of this fic… argh

(complete)

district 12 snowbaird

Snow and embers by @hopefulatrocity

Part 1 is good as well but this is my favorite of the twos! This is THEEEE Snowbaird breeding kink fic. Lives were changed. Me and the Snowbaird besties are referencing it on the regular. Truly hall of fame Snowbaird smuts. This fic is so important to me lmao it changed my brain chemistry.

(heavy smut - complete)

Head down, eyes on your face by Inky89

Her dress — the one that survived the Hunger Games — didn’t survive him. Now it was tattered and broken… Coriolanus slowly turned to see the rainbow dress slightly ripped, crumpled, and wrinkled lying in a mess on the uneven floor. A pang of guilt echoed in his heart again. How could he? Spoil something so beautiful. Her mother’s dress. How would he feel if someone defiled a memento of his mother like that? Lucy Gray’s face appeared in his inner vision, cheeks blushed, eyes dark with desire, bitten lips whispering to his ear as she topped him, “Don’t care, Barb will sew it back for me tomorrow. Now harder please, dar-r-r-ling. Yes. YES.” 🖤🖤🖤 ...or Coriolanus and Lucy Gray have a tender morning sex after yesterday's fight.

this was so!!

(heavy smut - complete)

the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when im alone with you) by dingdongdelusion

“You don’t need to repay me,” Coriolanus said. Their eyes locked. He had never looked so honest in his life. “I want to.” She whispered. Something ignited in him. Something maddening. Perhaps it was the sincerity in her voice, or the warmth in her eyes, or the closeness of their lips, but the next thing he knew, he was leaning and kissing her. She parted her lips and welcomed him in. He savored the taste of her, sweet and sincere as the songs she sang. Every second spent in her presence left him craving more and more. She felt a hand slide up her blouse and grab her breasts, touching her like a man starved. Her nipples were firm and sensitive. She gasped into his open mouth as he gently pinched them between his fingers. He had touched her like this a few times before, but they had never been alone long enough to get any farther. Today was the first time they had come to the lake alone. Or virginity loss one shot

(heavy smut - complete)

And that is it for now! I'm still deeply entrenched in the snowbaird hole for the foreseeable future, so might make a third list eventually, but we will see.

Also!! fun little side note - if anyone was avoiding either of those fics bc they hadn't been updated in ages when I made my first list... I am DELIGHTED to say that both doomsday is close at hand by fkevin073 and This is Not a Love Song by FrostedGemstones22 have come back from war!! two absolute classics, all of snowbaird nation cheered

[hamsteriffic]

Here is a snippet from the first chapter ‘First comes Misunderstandings…’

It all started with a simple misunderstanding.

Like most things in Marinette’s life, the misunderstanding snowballed, becoming bigger and bigger until it was an avalanche and she’s cold and it’s white everywhere and she’s miserable and she doesn’t know how to get out of it.

Fun times, basically.

Sort of that feeling you get when you accidentally find yourself standing in a white ballroom catching her not-boyfriend in the middle of a romantic dance with his ex kind of miserable. Maybe boyfriend was too strong a word. They had only just confessed to each other their feelings and they hadn’t even kissed.

The Diamond Ball was only the first in a long line of deceit. When Marinette used Zoe’s invitation to enter the Diamond Ball, the first thing she heard was Chloe Bourgeois’ loud obnoxious voice from across the room. Marinette turned the other way, heading directly to the podium where Adrien and Kagami were sitting. She just wanted to tell him it was okay, that she understood his obligations as an Agreste… that she didn’t even want to go to the ball anyway.

But her courage soon faded away as Adrien smiled at his ex-girlfriend. The way he looked at her - with so much emotion that she thought was only reserved for her. She tried to convince herself that it was only that Adrien was doing a convincing job of being in love - he was a model after all, he could fake a smile like the best of them.

Half truths and pretty white lies.

A/N Canon divergence:

Marinette never confronted ‘Adrien’ at the Diamond Ball, so Argos never happened. The events follow roughly the same events leading up to the London Special and post season 5.

Thank you to my amazing and talented friends from the very unhinged, very hilarious Miraculous Big Bang server. A special shout out to @burntwaffle12 @piratesandpizza and @yellowbullet100 for all their work beta-ing and making art along the way!

Follow @mlbigbang2024 or the tags below for more previews!

[lotus-holloway]

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why are you watching this garbage?"

Lotus stormed into the living room of her father’s sprawling mansion, her sharp blue eyes locking onto the television screen. The news coverage of the allegations against him played in glaring detail, the reporter’s voice heavy with condemnation.

Dax Holloway was sprawled across the massive sectional couch, his presence alone seeming to take up every inch of the furniture. He looked completely unbothered, as if he could have dozed off at any moment, despite the damning accusations being broadcasted for the world to see.

Lotus marched over, snatching the remote from his hand without hesitation. Dax barely reacted, his expression unreadable, as she shut off the 85-inch TV in one decisive click. The reporter’s face vanished, and only then did Dax shift his gaze to his daughter.

"I wanted to see what lies they were coming up with about me this time," he said smoothly. His voice was calm, at ease—completely unlike a man accused of throwing drug-fueled sex parties and having non-consensual encounters with multiple women.

Lotus frowned, frustration etched into her features. "Come on, Dad. You don't need to torture yourself like that. Let the lawyers handle it."

She couldn’t understand how he remained so composed. Sure, Dax had faced rumors throughout his career, but nothing this vicious. This wasn’t just a scandal—it was an avalanche.

Dax only smiled, patting the empty space beside him on the couch. "Come here."

Despite herself, Lotus sat down, instantly pulled under his arm like she was a little girl again. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don’t you worry about me, princess. This shit will be over before it’s even really begun. I’m not worried, and you shouldn’t be either."

Easier said than done.

Their lives were under a microscope—every word, every action, and even things they hadn’t done were dissected by the world. How could she not be worried when it was in her face all the time?

Her phone buzzed relentlessly, the screen lighting up with a flood of notifications.

Are you okay?

Wow, your dad is a POS.

Can’t believe you’re related to such a monster.

Saw the news, hope you’re okay.

People will say anything for fame these days.

Don't let it get to you, it'll all blow over in no time.

The messages kept coming—texts, voicemails, Instagram DMs, Twitter mentions. But the worst were the public posts she’d been tagged in.

One in particular made her stomach twist.

Someone had used a photo from one of her recent photoshoots, plastering it across the internet with a rant about Dax Holloway. But it was the final line that made her turn off her phone entirely.

If Lotus Holloway is half as bad as her dad, she should be publicly executed.

[shallowseeker]

THE LORE

I'm Shal.  I watched SPN off and on as a teen, but I didn’t join Tumblr or the fandom until late 2022, when I was bedridden due to a heart condition.

That’s when I started reading fics like american oracle by @handsliketruth & @whiskeyjuniper, The Black Dog Ache by @winchester-reload, and Redux by @valleydean... and I was hooked. Ficlets, meta, shitposts, the whole nine. (I'm still obsessed with all of these stories, if you care.)

I'm happy to say that my heart condition is much more stable now, and I’m no longer bedridden, but I’m still on Tumblr and still having an amazing time!

///

TAGGING / WARNINGS

I’m not anti-anything, but I have a real soft spot for imperfect characters. If they come across as too polished or boring, I love digging into their flaws and exploring their Achilles' heels. (For example, I’ve paralleled Lisa Braden’s struggle with understanding grief against Jody Mills’s deeper, lived understanding of it.)

Anything I think could be challenging or a bit of a downer, I tag with #complex at the beginning—#complex john, #complex sam, #complex dean, and so on.

///

META

The meta-organization will go here... eventually. (I'm working on a #shal spn rewatch.)

Over the past couple of years, I’ve written a lot of opinions, some of which people still request. My meta tends to focus on later SPN seasons, with deep dives into Jack Kline—aiming to add variety to the ecosystem by highlighting the real, complicated Jack over the "fanon (toddler) stereotype."

A few people have called me TFW-positive, and I genuinely love Team Free Will, even when I'm mentally wringing their necks. My core focus is on Sam, Dean, Castiel, Jack, Mary, and Rowena/the MacLeod family.

Side Goals: @spnwin-reader @wheretheloveisstored

///

FICS

I post my fics on Ao3 under shallowseeker, and the new Tumblr page for them is here. (I post a lot of rapid-fire ficlets and ideas in my Tumblr posts, too.)

I write to improve my cognitive dysfunction, and I’m fascinated by religion and natural phenomena (avalanches, sinkholes, etc). My writing style has been described as chaotic, random, and weird—"like one long manic episode."

= O N G O I N G =

For your crimes against the most high (5 of 14) 

Blackout on the eastern seaboard (1/2)

= C O M P L E T E D =

Truth & despair (15/15)

Mirror, mirror (1/1)

I will not be diminished (1/1)

///

OTHER STUFF

👬 pro-DeanCas (I have eyes) // 🤩 Mary stan //⭐ Jack stan // 📚 Sam / Donatello / Metatron-coded (and was told by a friend: Kevin Tran-coded)

My username @shallowseeker is a type of fishing lure, so I thought a Dean and Jack fishing theme would fit perfectly this time around!