#the exaggeration i think is done well for the most part

[thesecondhandwoman]

may i request caitvi kid reader play fighting with her mama vi pls?

PLAY FIGHTING

Caitlyn x Vi x kid f!reader

Synopsis: Another day of chaos started with play fighting mama Vi, but when you didn’t win, it turned into a session of comforting a fussy kiddo.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Part three of Motherly Love

The living room was a battleground, and you were determined to win. Pillows had been piled up like barricades, and blankets draped across the couch like strategic cover. You crouched behind one of your pillow fort walls, your small but mighty frame poised for action. Bunny, your ever-loyal companion, sat tucked into the pocket of your overalls, ready to observe the chaos.

Across the room, Vi stood tall, hands on her hips, a cocky grin on her face. She cracked her knuckles dramatically, her pink hair tousled and wild. “Alright, squirt. You think you can take on the champ?”

You puffed out your chest, fists on your hips in perfect imitation of her. “I’m not a squirt! I’m the Dragon Slayer, and I’m gonna win!”

Vi smirked, crouching slightly to meet your height, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh yeah? You got moves, Dragon Slayer? Let’s see ’em.”

“Vi, don’t break the furniture,” Caitlyn’s voice floated in from the kitchen, where she was sipping tea and watching the chaos unfold with thinly veiled amusement.

“Relax, cupcake. This is all under control,” Vi called back before turning her full attention to you. “Alright, kiddo. Give me your best shot.”

With a high-pitched battle cry, you launched yourself at Vi, tiny hands swiping at her in what could only be described as the most dramatic attack in history. Vi laughed, dodging and weaving like a prizefighter, her movements exaggerated to keep the game fun.

“You’re quick, I’ll give you that,” she teased, narrowly avoiding your swipes. “But you’re gonna have to do better than—”

Before she could finish, you managed to land a soft slap on her arm. Gasping, she stumbled back, clutching her chest like she’d been mortally wounded. “Oh no! The Dragon Slayer strikes again!”

You giggled, proud of yourself, while Vi dramatically collapsed onto the couch, her legs flopping over the armrest. “You got me, kid. I’m done for.”

“Victory!” you declared, climbing up onto the couch to strike a triumphant pose. Bunny peeked out of your pocket like he, too, was basking in the glory.

But just as you turned to Caitlyn to announce your win, Vi lunged, scooping you up into her arms. “Gotcha!” she laughed, tossing you lightly onto the pile of pillows.

“No fair, Mama!” you squealed, trying to scramble back up.

“All’s fair in love and play fights,” Vi quipped, pinning you gently with one hand.

“Vi, don’t gloat,” Caitlyn warned, though her tone was more amused than stern.

You squirmed and wiggled, trying to escape, but Vi’s hold was unrelenting. “Say ‘I tap out’,” she teased, grinning as she held you in place.

“Never!” you huffed, your bottom lip beginning to tremble.

At first, you didn’t even realize your frustration was building. Vi’s teasing grin, her effortless strength, and the fact that you couldn’t wiggle free all piled up until you felt the lump in your throat.

Your bottom lip wobbled, your cheeks puffing out in an attempt to hold back the flood. But it was no use. The tears came anyway, welling up in your eyes until they spilled over.

“M-Mama,” you sniffled, your voice breaking.

Vi froze instantly, her grin vanishing as panic set in. “Oh no, no, no, kiddo, don’t cry! I wasn’t— I didn’t mean— Aw, man.” She scooped you up, holding you close as you let out a wail.

Caitlyn appeared in the doorway, her brow furrowing as she crossed the room in long, quick strides. “Vi, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Vi protested, looking genuinely distressed. “We were playing, and then—” She gestured helplessly at your tear-streaked face.

Caitlyn sighed, taking you gently from Vi’s arms. “Shh, darling. It’s alright,” she cooed, cradling you against her chest. She rocked you back and forth, her soft voice and warm embrace chasing away the sting of losing. “Mama can be a little too rough sometimes, can’t she?”

You sniffled, burying your face in Caitlyn’s shoulder. “She cheated,” you mumbled, your small voice muffled.

Vi gasped, clutching her chest again, but this time with real offense. “Cheated? Kiddo, I would never!”

Caitlyn shot her a look, though her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. “Perhaps it’s time for a rematch. With a little assistance.”

You peeked up at her, your tears slowing. “Really?”

“Really,” Caitlyn said, her eyes sparkling with a promise.

With Caitlyn holding you securely in her arms, you felt invincible. Bunny had been moved to a place of honor on the couch, watching the proceedings like the referee of a great battle.

Vi stood across the room, hands on her hips, trying not to laugh. “Alright, alright. Two against one, huh? You think that’s fair?”

“Absolutely,” Caitlyn said primly, shifting you slightly so you had a better view of Vi. “Are you ready, darling?”

“Yeah!” you cheered, your confidence restored.

“Then let’s get her,” Caitlyn said, and with that, she charged.

Well, it was more of a dignified jog, but to you, it felt like a full-blown cavalry charge. You stretched your arms out toward Vi, your tiny hands aiming for her sides.

“Tickle attack!” you cried, Caitlyn guiding you as you latched onto Vi’s waist.

Vi yelped, doubling over in exaggerated defeat. “No fair, cupcake! You’re helping her cheat!”

“Consider it justice,” Caitlyn replied smoothly, her grip on you steady as you continued your assault.

Vi finally collapsed onto the pile of pillows, laughing uncontrollably as your tiny fingers poked and tickled her sides. “Alright, alright! I give up!” she wheezed, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Victory!” you shouted again, this time with Caitlyn’s support.

Caitlyn set you down gently, kneeling beside you as you climbed onto Vi’s chest, your small hands on your hips. “I win, Mama. Me and Mommy are the best team ever!”

Vi looked up at you, her smile soft and full of love despite her supposed defeat. “Yeah, yeah, you got me. Guess I’ll have to train harder if I want to beat the Dragon Slayer and her sidekick.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Sidekick?”

“Uh, I mean, team captain,” Vi corrected quickly, winking at you.

You giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to Vi’s cheek. “I still love you, Mama. Even if you’re a bad guy.”

Vi’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a bear hug. “Love you too, squirt. Even if you’re a cheater.”

“She is not,” Caitlyn said, smoothing your hair as she stood. “Now, let’s clean up this battlefield before dinner, shall we?”

By the time dinner was ready, the living room was back to normal, and the three of you sat around the table, laughing and talking like always. Bunny had been returned to his rightful place by your side, his ears slightly more crumpled than before but no worse for wear.

As Caitlyn served dessert—your favorite cookies—you couldn’t help but smile, your heart full and warm.

“Best day ever,” you declared, holding Bunny up like he agreed.

Caitlyn leaned over to kiss the top of your head. “Every day with you is the best day ever, darling.”

Vi ruffled your hair, grinning. “Yeah, even when you kick my butt.”

You giggled, leaning into their love. In your little world, there was no better place to be.

A/N: Sorry this was so short, I tried to finish it up during Christmas (hope you guys had a good Christmas btw!)

[kozumesphone]

h.h ✦ so good ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : ayyy dominoooo merry christmas (it’s literally exactly 12:00am here) 😋 this fic is not even christmas-related, but it is hyunjin-related and that’s the only excuse I need to post it ☝️ this is the longest fic i’ve ever written (oneshot), so I hope it’s not too dragged out </3 I wanted to split it into 2 parts but decided against it. 👺 anyway!! this is me spreading cute and comfy!hyunjin as well as crop top!hyunjin agenda (esp after that solo mv?! babygirlism is OFF the charts w that fit ✨). well! merry christmas again! may your christmas be filled with streaming the solo mvs and christmas evel <3 this fic is dedicated to mori ( @serendipitous-girl )’s friend (if youre seeing this, HIIII!!) ❇️ enjoy~~ 💗🥟 (:

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : fem!reader , trainee!dancer!reader , idol!hyunjin , reader is 18 and hyunjin is 19 years old , ot8 mentioned , reader has (playful) beef w chan , one remark about reader thinking she’s heavy (if you think that way too, js know that i love you and i’d work out enough to bench press your weight ok) , crop top!hyunjin agenda , hyunjin is a CUTIE PATOOTIEEE , cheeky gentleman!hyunjin , also the last icon on the top is reader’s outfit described at the start of the fic / you can find reader’s stage outfit in the reblogs of this post >.< ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 3.8k

I was getting ready in a short top, cargo pants and v-strings, first thing in the morning today. 

I was packing my stage outfit in my bag when my uncle called me. I switched the call to speaker mode, and continued packing.

“is my little star almost done packing?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“yup! i’ll be at the venue in 20 minutes,” I said.

“great, i’ll see you there.” he hung up. 

I resumed my stray kids playlist, and the muscle memory to the choreography of the songs kept kicking in as I tried to finish packing. their new comeback album, HOP, was way too addictive to listen to.

I ended up being 10 minutes late—with my shoelaces barely tied—to the venue because I got too invested in my one-woman-concert.

as soon as I got down the car, it was surprising not having any cameras flashing in my face.

my uncle was hosting a premiere for the newest k-drama he had directed. he was quite the talk of town, with multiple blockbuster dramas credited to his name. 

he normally loved all the attention from the world. though, this time, the paparazzi was not allowed to the event since it was his last premiere before retirement. 

in lieu of the special circumstances, he declared the event a no-paparazzi only-vip one. and I was the most excited, which was an understatement, because the loves of my life were going to be there: stray kids.

well, it would be a little bit of an exaggeration to call them that, but they were my ult group, and they were all going to be there today.

during production, my uncle had asked me who I thought would be fit to be responsible for the soundtrack of his last drama ever, and I suggested stray kids to him, half as a joke. he ended up taking my suggestion, and so, as the music directors, stray kids were invited today as well.

the venue was an outdoor stadium, set for a proper viewing and many performances on the huge stage in the centre. 

lots of staircases and escalators went up and down the rows of seats and soft couches sat at the bottom, closest to the stage. 

I checked my seat number and found that it was in one of the first rows of couches near the stage. I made my way towards it and fell comfortably on the seat.

the stadium wasn’t completely filled yet, but it was already buzzing with gossips and such. I could spot a few friends of my uncle, who were all directors or producers, as well as the stars of the drama. I left my bag in my seat, and got up to greet the lead actors. they were a few years older than me, and had perfect chemistry with each other, even off-screen.

after chatting for a while, something else caught my attention in my peripheral vision.

well, more like someone else.

the members of stray kids had gotten out of their vehicle, each one of them looking as handsome as the rest.

my eyes strayed to chan and hyunjin in the corner of their group.

I met chan’s eyes, and bowed a little bit. he smiled back at me.

I tried to catch jeongin’s eye on the other side, but failed, because he was yapping to lee know about something quite excitedly.  

hyunjin was wearing a black tank top and a leather biker jacket, paired with dark cargo jeans and boots. the jewellery on him was absolutely perfect for his outfit and him, and his hair was styled beautifully. I knew stray kids had a performance sometime today, so he must have been carrying his stage outfit with him, just like I was. our eyes met for a second, and I let out a little gasp. he tried to smack away han, who was saying something loudly in his ear with a huge grin on his face. I turned around to continue talking with the other cast members who had gathered. 

after a while, everyone was asked to settle down in their seats, as the entertainment performances were about to begin. I made my way back to my seat, happy to see my bag still there. 

as I flopped down onto the fluffy couch, a taller figure towered over me. their shadow fell across my face. I opened my eyes to be met with hyunjin’s face.

“hi! i’ve got the seat beside you,” he smiled down at me. I stared at him in shock for a second, even though I had seen him countless times before, but just from a little farther away.

“right. yes- sorry, hi!” I stood up suddenly, bowing my head a little, and extending my hand. he shook it with a firm grip, and we both sat down.

a few performances went by, and the crowd started to chat again.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere… have we met before, by any chance?” he asked, turning towards me. our knees were touching a little bit now. 

“i’m actually a trainee, at jype,” I said, smiling a little.

his eyes lit up with recognition. “oh wait, y/n? your group practices in the room beside ours, doesn’t it?”

“yes, actually. how do you remember that?” I asked, a little shocked by the fact that he knew of my existence, and my name as well. 

“ah, I remember seeing you talking to chan, when you guys grabbed some ice cream from the vending machine in the first floor,” he recounted. “chan was telling me all about your group, after that. especially about you, actually.” I blushed a little bit, at the thought of chan remembering me enough to mention my members and me to hyunjin.

“what did he say? nothing bad, I hope,” I laughed. 

“well, that’s a secret,” hyunjin said, covering his mouth as if to shush himself. I groaned. 

“he better not have said anything stupid, then.”

hyunjin chuckled and continued. “he also told me about how he was your babysitter for a while, when you were younger?”

“oh, he was an absolute bully! he was barely 3 years older than me, but he acted like he was a 30-year old who knew everything. pompous ass.” I muttered the last part under my breath. 

hyunjin snickered. “sounds like chan, honestly. felix talks about him just like you do. I think lixie and you would get along well, then.” I laughed under my breath, exhilarated at the thought of even an opportunity to meet the other members. 

we continued talking for a while, when it was announced that the fire show would be starting. delighted, I whipped out my handcam to record it. it always sounded like a fun thing to watch, but i’d never been to any fire shows before. 

the entire show was amazing, but my arms were starting to get sore from holding up the camera for so long. hyunjin peaked at me, and stole the camera from my hands, holding it up, pointed towards the stage. 

“relax, i’ll hold it for you,” he whispered. my heart fluttered at the proximity between his lips and my ear. thinking nothing of the shiver sent down my spine, I left my handcam in hyunjin’s care, enjoying the show. 

there were lots of other entertainment segments, considering the event was supposed to last almost an entire day. there were lots of breaks in between for food, as well. 

at one point, I had fallen asleep on the soft couch. I kept moving around to get comfortable. the lights from the acts on stage were too bright, so I turned my body and head to the side, away from the lights. I threw my hand around something stable, and fell deeper into slumber. 

when I woke up from my quick power nap, I felt something against my palm. I opened my eyes to find my hand over hyunjin’s torso. he was leaning back, legs spread apart, body slowly vibing to the show on stage.

at my movement, he turned around slowly, looking at me. 

“got your beauty sleep, princess?” he asked, smirking a little. beneath my hand, that still rested over some part of his chest, I could feel his heart practically beating out of his body.

“dude, are you okay?” I asked, sitting up, ignoring his question. I moved a bit to place my hand flat against his chest. he had taken off his jacket, and was now in just a tank top. “your heart’s beating so fast. do you need to get away from the lights or something?”

“oh, no, i’m fine,” he mumbled, turning away a little bit. 

“you sure?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

even though we’d officially only met today, I felt comfortable around him. comfortable enough to talk to him, like i’d speak to any friend… which made sense, because we were sort of the same age. 

“yes, yes, mother,” he rolled his eyes at me. I gave him a side-eye, and we turned back around to watch the next set of performances. 

during one of the breaks, my phone rang with an incoming call from my aunt.

“y/n-ah, can you make it to the seventeenth floor fast? your cousin is so clumsy, she spilt juice all over herself and I need some help with her,” she said. I could hear the desperation in her voice through the phone, so I agreed.

“yeah, imo, i’ll be there. I think I have your seat number too, so don’t worry about it.”

as I stood up, hyunjin pulled me down immediately. “where are you going?” he whispered.

“my aunt needs some help with her daughter. she’s just three years old, and cute as hell of course, but she’s quite a handful. i’ll be right back, though,” I told him.

“i’ll come with you, then,” he said, getting up. I was surprised for a second, but nodded anyway.

I stood up and was about to close my ‘phone’ app, but paused at the screen. did I give him my phone along with my handcam, at some point? i’d forgotten about it, if I had. 

hyunjin had saved his contact number under the name ’hyune 🥟’.

“i’m curious, do you give out your number to every girl you meet?” I asked, joking, as we began making our way up the stairs. 

he turned back to me and then turned forward again, “nope. just the pretty ones.”

my heart fluttered at his dialogue, but I quickly regained my composure. “hyune, that’s so cheesy, oh my god.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“whatever,” he laughed. “don’t I get your number too? just so we don’t lose each other in the crowd.”

I was shocked, yet again, at the thought of the hwang hyunjin asking for my number, no matter what the reason.

he passed his phone to me, and we fell in step beside each other. I entered my number in, and saved it as ‘n/n 🌊’, before handing it back to him.

we made it to the seventeenth floor soon, both of us half-dancing to the music playing and talking to each other. when we reached my aunt’s row, though, she wasn’t there.

I asked the people nearby if they had seen a woman with a child in their row, and they said that she had left just a minute ago, with some staff members. 

I thanked them, and hyunjin and I decided to make our way back to our seats.

before we could start going down through the stairs, a security guard stopped us both.

“who are you two? don’t you know it’s the vip section down there?” he asked, gruffly.

“…i’m hyunjin? from stray kids?” hyunjin replied to him, as sassy as ever, and turned towards me to roll his eyes in mock-offence. 

“okay, well, what about you, miss?” he asked me. I had forgotten my tickets in my bag, which was still on my seat. 

I made eye contact with hyunjin, and he somehow seemed to understand that I didn’t have any other proof.

“i’m… uh… with him,” I replied, unsure. 

the guard looked at me suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. 

suddenly, hyunjin yelled, “who’s that running, over there?!” and pointed behind the guard. 

he turned back to see, and in the same second, hyunjin wrapped his fingers around my wrist, as we took off running down the stairs. 

we were sprinting down rows of stairs, laughing, almost breathless, but we could still hear the guard running behind us. 

“wait, wait,” I pulled hyunjin’s shirt from the back. “i’m going to trip, my laces are untied.” I breathed out. 

he shook his head, and picked me up bridal-style. “just tie your shoelace like this, he’ll catch us easily, otherwise!” he rolled his eyes, as if it was an obvious thing to do. 

by the time we were running down the next few sets of stairs, I had finished tying my laces, and we had also successfully lost the security guard. hopefully, he didn’t think of us as a threat too big to report to his boss, or whatever. 

hyunjin was still carrying me, as we were still walking down. 

“are you sure you don’t want to put me down now?” I asked, hesitating a little bit. “I am pretty heavy, I suppose, so-”

“of course you’re not,” he smiled softly at me.

the sun was just setting and the sky was a canvas of orange, pink, and purple. all the hues were reflected on hyunjin’s face, making him appear like an illuminated angel.

“hey…” I started. “would you mind if I recorded a video of the sunset, and… this?” I gestured between him and me. “I guess this is probably one of my favourite memories till date, and I… yeah. I want something to remember today by.” I let out a breath, wondering if i’d crossed the line by asking him if I could record him carrying me. it does sound like an awkward, weird and creepy request.

to my surprise, he nodded. “yes! you have to send it to me too, because I could say pretty much the same thing.” he grinned down at me. 

I smiled happily, and took out my phone. I took a few pictures of the sunset first. then, I flipped to the back camera, zoomed out to 0.5x, and extended my hand. I clicked on the ‘record’ button, recording hyunjin, and the light falling on his face. he smiled at the camera once, and then started making funny faces. I slapped his chest lightly, and we started laughing.

(much later, when i’d rewatched these videos, I noticed hyunjin looking at me with his eyes filled to the brim with love. just smiling at me throughout most of the video.)

we started talking to the camera like a vlog, and I flipped it after a while to show the sunset. it was absolutely ethereal, of course. 

we had almost reached the last few sets of stairs, so hyunjin set me down slowly. 

I thanked him quietly, ending the recording. “pretty sure i’m never forgetting this day.” I laughed lightly. 

“nooo, don’t thank me at all. I had so much fun, unexpectedly. it was cute,” he winked.

I turned away suddenly, heat rushing up my neck for the millionth time during the same day. I grumbled a little, and we continued talking to each other on the way back to our couch in the front row. 

I was telling him about my other friends who were STAY, and told him that they’d be very jealous to find out that I had been at such an event and met him.

“i’d love to meet your friends one day, they all do seem like fun people,” he said.

“oh my god!” I exclaimed. “I really hope you do. it’d be so cool.”

my phone dinged suddenly, and I looked down to see a notification alerting me about my upcoming dance performance on the centre stage for the day.

I bid hyunjin goodbye, letting him know that i’d be back after a while, and that I had to leave. 

would he be surprised when he’d see me on the stage? would he like the dance? I kept asking myself millions of questions.

he pouted for a while, but soon let me go, understanding that it was something important. 

I grabbed my bag from my seat, and rushed backstage. 

seeing the staff members waiting for me, I felt a little less nervous. familiar faces always had that effect, didn’t they?

ᯓ★ hyunjin’s pov . . .

I was back at my seat, continuing to watch the performances.

it was nearly 10 in the night already, and the crowd was getting more and more hyped. 

the other members and I were set to go on stage in about an hour for our performance, and we were all relatively ready, except for our outfits and makeup.

the last few performances were the most anticipated ones, usually. this time, I had forgotten to check the schedule to see who else was performing before us tonight. 

the lights dulled, after a song ended. a spotlight shone, and a girl was standing facing the other way. she was wearing a white button-up, a cropped vest, and cargo-jean pants. her belt shone with a row of stars and rhinestones. she truly gave off a ‘stray kids’ vibe, and would probably fit right in with our concept too. her hair reminded me of y/n’s.

the music began, and she turned around at the beat. I realised two things, simultaneously: first, that it was my solo song ‘so good’—the one that we had released just a week ago—that had started playing. and second, the girl on stage was y/n.

my heart burst at the sight of her. she had sunglasses on, and a black tie was loosely draped around her neck. her jewellery went absolutely perfectly with her outfit and vibe. 

I was awe-struck when she started dancing. they were the same steps I had been performing for so many weeks, but when she did them, they looked… ethereal. she did the isolations so well, and her flow was unmatched, much like an ocean wave.

her rings and bracelets glinted in the light continuously. her expressions were a perfect match for my song. she was pulling off the choreography exactly how it was, if not better. 

if I hadn’t already fallen head over heels in love with her, I certainly did now.

she executed the dance break choreography flawlessly. I was almost envious of how good she looked doing my dance. the lighting enhanced how beautiful she looked. an angel descending from heaven, perhaps. 

still in awe, I didn’t notice her performance ending, and the crowd was going wild. apparently, lots of people knew who she was. 

“who is she?” I asked the old couple sitting behind me. 

“oh, the girl who was just on the stage? she’s the director’s niece. an absolute beauty,” the woman replied, smiling fondly. 

“that she is,” I mumbled, and thanked the woman.

I got a notification from felix, saying that chan was looking for me backstage. I quickly made my way there, hoping to catch y/n too.

thanks to my occassional good luck, she was there, resting on a couch in the makeup room. a staff member was hovering around her, cleaning her makeup. the thin layer of sweat on her face was glistening under the light.

“hyunjin!” she called out, sitting up suddenly.

I smiled and walked towards her, gesturing at han—who was nearby—to wait for me.

as soon as y/n stood up, I hugged her. “that was so beautiful,” I muttered into her hair.

she pulled back a little and smiled at me.

“i’m so happy you liked it. I was kind of nervous-”

“y/n?! that was amazing! It literally looked exactly like hyunjin’s dance style!” jeongin said, running towards us. I rolled my eyes at the intrusion, but let it go soon since it was just jeongin.

I paused suddenly. “wait. how do you know her?” I asked him.

“oh, noona got me chocolates on my birthday, and since then we’ve been hanging out a bit,” he said. I turned to y/n, who was nodding in a very ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ way.

“i’ll leave you two to talk now, but jinnie hyung, the stylists are waiting for you. we need to get ready,” he said while walking away, and I nodded.

“ah, I see how it is,” I teased, narrowing my eyes playfully. “stealing the maknae’s heart before mine, huh?”

she burst out laughing. “you’ve got it all wrong. innie’s just a little brother to me.”

I felt a little relieved at that.

I saw the rest of the group trickle backstage one by one, each offering her their compliments, remembering her from the jype building.

felix hugged her and exclaimed how proud he was of her performance. “no wonder hyunjin’s been texting us about you nonstop today,” he added with a cheeky grin. I shoved him playfully, slightly blushing.

as the chaos died down, the staff called us one last time to prepare for our performance.

I turned to y/n, and asked a bit hesitantly. “will you still be here after the show?”

she nodded, her smile lighting up her face. “of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I stepped closer, leaning in so only she could hear. “good. I still owe you one for making my heart race like that.” her blush was as beautiful as ever, and it gave me the courage to add, “do you want to grab a coffee, or something, after the event?”

“I’d love that,” she said softly, nodding, her eyes meeting mine with a spark that made my heart race, yet again.

as I walked towards the stage with my members, I couldn’t help but glance back at her. she was watching us, her expression proud and supportive. she threw a thumbs up in the air.

I knew that this day wasn’t just a moment of chance or luck. it was the beginning of something beautiful.

ᯓ★ bonus ending: y/n’s pov . . .

after hyunjin’s performance with his group and my excessively loud cheering and screaming, there were still quite a few performances left.

unbothered, hyunjin and I snuck away from the stadium, and roamed outside, looking for coffee shops close by. it was too late, so the roads were mostly empty.

there were a lot of hands-brushing and staring-at-each-other moments too.

under the city’s twinkling lights, watching korea’s night life with him, I couldn’t help but wonder what galaxy i’d saved in my past life to be lucky enough so as to meet someone like hyunjin today.

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[kingkaizen]

𝓭𝓪𝓭!𝓰𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓼

∘ desc: moments with your shared daughter *christmas edition*

∘ ft: gojo

∘ includes: christmas traditions (also other winter related activities for anyone who does not celebrate christmas). happy holidays <3

Decorating 

You’re inside the warm, cozy living room with your daughter, who’s carefully hanging ornaments on the lower branches of the Christmas tree. You can’t help but smile at her tiny, concentrated face as she proudly shows you her latest placement, slightly crooked but utterly perfect.

“Where’s Daddy?” she suddenly asks, glancing around as if Gojo might jump out from behind the tree.

You pause, realizing you haven’t heard his usual playful remarks in a while. “Good question, sweetie.”

Stepping outside, you’re greeted by a sight that’s equal parts alarming and hilarious. There he is—your husband—half hanging off the roof, a string of Christmas lights tangled around his torso as if he spun around in them. He’s muttering to himself, trying to clip the lights in place while haphazardly balancing on the edge.

“Satoru!” you yell, rushing forward. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, flashing that signature smug grin, as if dangling from a rooftop is the most normal thing ever. “I’m making our house the brightest on the block! What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to break your neck!” you shout back, torn between exasperation and laughter.

Your daughter runs outside to see what’s going on and gasps. “Daddy, are you flying like Santa?”

Gojo puffs out his chest, clearly inspired by her awe. “Exactly, sweetheart! Daddy’s doing Santa prep work. But don’t tell anyone—it’s top secret.”

Just as he says this, the clip he was trying to secure snaps free, sending him sliding down the roof. You shriek, but he somehow lands on his feet in the snow with all the grace of a cat, arms flung out dramatically.

“I meant to do that!” he declares proudly, though his hair is covered with snow and his shirt is half untucked.

Your daughter shrieks with laughter, while you sigh, rubbing your temples. “Satoru, next time just use a ladder, or maybe for some help.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he teases, winking at you.

We have Santa at Home

The mall was bustling with holiday cheer, kids lined up around every corner to meet Santa Claus. You thought it’d be a great idea to bring your daughter for a quick picture and get some last minute shopping done, but, of course, your husband had other plans.

“Why waste time in a boring line for some fake Santa when you’ve got the real deal right here?” Gojo says with a smug grin, pointing at himself.

You raise an eyebrow. “The real deal? Last I checked, Santa doesn’t have snow-white hair and no beard, honey.”

“Details, details,” he waves you off. “Just wait. She’s going to love this.”

Later that evening, you’re finishing up some wrapping when you hear a loud “Ho ho ho!” coming from the living room. You walk in to see Gojo fully decked out in a Santa suit—complete with a pillow stuffed under the jacket to make him completely look the part. Your daughter’s eyes grow wide as she gasps.

“Santa?!” she squeals, running over to him.

Gojo crouches down, his voice deeper and exaggerated, “Well, hello there, little one! What’s your name?”

“Hana”, she replies with a giggle, inching closer to her dressed up father.

“What a pretty name for an adorable little one like you! Have you been a good girl this year?”

She nods so enthusiastically it’s a miracle her head doesn’t fly off. “The best girl!”

The evening turns into an impromptu Christmas celebration. Gojo stays in character as he hands her a small “early gift” and lets her climb onto his lap for pictures. But as the hours tick on, the novelty starts to wear off—for him, at least.

“Okay, kiddo,” he says, tugging at the itchy beard. “Santa’s got to go back to the North Pole now.”

“Nooo!” she wails, grabbing his red coat. “Santa, stay,” she exclaims, jutting her lip out in a silent beg.

Gojo glances at you helplessly as your daughter’s big, watery eyes work their magic. You cross your arms, smirking. “You wanted to be the real deal, remember?”

He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “Fine, Santa will stay a little longer. But only because I love cookies—uh, I mean, I love you.”

Your daughter giggles and climbs onto his lap again, happily chattering about what she wants for Christmas. You can’t help but laugh as Gojo leans back, already over it but trapped by his own antics.

Later, when she finally falls asleep, he collapses next to you, yanking off the Santa hat. “Next year, we’re going to the mall.”

“Sure, Santa,” you tease, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Baking

The smell of sugar and vanilla wafted through the kitchen as you and your daughter stood side by side at the counter, carefully cutting out festive shapes from the cookie dough.

“Are these enough for Santa, Mommy?” she asked, holding up a slightly misshapen star.

“More than enough, cutie. But maybe make one extra—just in case Santa gets really hungry,” you reply with a knowing smile.

She giggles, carefully placing her creation onto the baking sheet. By the time the cookies are in the oven, she’s bouncing with excitement, chattering about how Santa will love her “masterpieces.” After they’re done, she insists on arranging them perfectly on a plate, complete with a glass of milk and a tiny carrot for the reindeer.

Hours later, the house is silent, your daughter fast asleep upstairs, when you creep downstairs for a midnight check. The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights the room, and there’s Satoru, already at the plate, milk in hand and a cookie halfway to his mouth.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, arms crossed.

He freezes, looking like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Santa’s on a break,” he says with a grin, waving the cookie at you.

Rolling your eyes, you join him, plucking a cookie from the plate. “If Santa eats too many, our daughter might notice.”

“She’s too busy being the cutest thing in the world to count cookies,” he says, taking a big bite. Then, with a teasing grin, he adds, “Besides, I’m doing her a favor. This one was burnt on the bottom.”

You laugh quietly and lean against him, enjoying the peaceful moment as the two of you share cookies by the light of the tree.

“Think she’ll notice the bite marks?” you ask, glancing at the carrot on the plate.

Gojo smirks. “Nah, but I’ll gnaw on it if it helps sell the story.”

“Please don’t,” you say, laughing harder, but you know he probably will.

The two of you finish your stolen snack, leaving just enough for your daughter to try for herself. 

Opening Presents

The first rays of morning sunlight peek through the curtains as you hear the sound of little feet padding down the hallway. Moments later, your daughter bursts into the room, her face lit up with excitement.

“It’s Christmas! Mommy, Daddy, wake up! Santa came!” she exclaims, practically vibrating with energy.

You groggily sit up, laughing as she grabs Satoru’s arm and tries to tug him out of bed. “C’mon, Daddy! You have to see!”

Satoru, ever the dramatic one, groans like he’s being dragged from the depths of sleep. “Santa came? Are you sure? Maybe we should check if he left any presents for me,” he teases, scooping her up in one swift motion.

You all head to the living room together, where the Christmas tree sparkles with lights, and a mountain of presents sits waiting. Your daughter gasps, clapping her hands. “He came! He really came!”

The morning is a blur of laughter, torn wrapping paper, and wide-eyed amazement as she opens each gift. Every reaction is pure joy—her squeal of delight when she unwraps the toy she’s been dreaming of, the way her little hands hug a stuffed animal like it’s the most precious treasure in the world.

Satoru, always one to ham it up, acts just as surprised as she does. “Wow, Santa must’ve known you’ve been such a good girl this year!” he says, ruffling her hair.

When she opens a gift that’s clearly from you and him—a cute kids makeup set—you can’t help but laugh as she insists on doing everyone’s makeup immediately. Gojo groans, claiming he looks ridiculous, but he complies when she bats her big, sparkling eyes at him.

At one point, she finds a small, poorly wrapped package with “To Daddy, Love Hana” scrawled in crayon. She beams as he opens it, revealing a handmade bracelet strung with colorful plastic beads.

“Wow, this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he says, slipping it on his wrist like it’s pure gold.

As the morning winds down, you all collapse on the couch in a pile of wrapping paper and contented smiles. Your daughter is happily playing with her toys on the floor, and Satoru leans over, kissing your cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, your heart full as you watch your little family bask in the magic of the day.

Snow day

You wake up to the world outside transformed into a winter wonderland, a thick blanket of snow covering everything. Your daughter is already at the window, pressing her tiny hands against the glass.

“Mommy! Daddy! Look! It snowed so much!” she squeals, spinning around with excitement.

Satoru peeks out from under the covers, pretending to groan. “It’s so early… Are you sure we have snow?”

Your daughter runs over and starts tugging on his arm. “Yes, Daddy! Hurry up! We have to go play!”

A little while later, you’re all bundled up in coats, scarves, and mittens, stepping into the crisp, cold air. Satoru immediately scoops up a handful of snow and throws it in the air like confetti. The first task of the day is building a snowman. Your daughter diligently rolls the snow into uneven spheres while Satoru adds his signature touch: sunglasses, a scarf tied like it belongs on a runway, and a lopsided carrot nose.

“Behold! The coolest snowman in town,” he declares, striking a dramatic pose next to it.

“Daddy, you’re so silly,” your daughter giggles, clapping her hands.

After the snowman is complete, the chaos begins. Satoru sneakily forms a snowball and tosses it at you, hitting your shoulder. “Snowball fight!” he yells, already running for cover behind the snowman.

“Oh, you’re so getting it now,” you laugh, scooping up snow as your daughter gleefully joins in.

The backyard becomes a battlefield of flying snowballs and shrieks of laughter. Your daughter targets Satoru relentlessly, who dramatically flops into the snow every time he’s hit. “Ahh, I’ve been defeated! Not the face!” he cries, pretending to surrender.

But, of course, he never stays down for long, launching surprise attacks and tackling you both into soft piles of snow.

Eventually, you’re all exhausted, your cheeks flushed and your hands freezing. Satoru picks up your daughter and spins her around before carrying her inside, declaring, “Victory is mine!”

Back in the warmth of the house, you all gather around the kitchen table with steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. Your daughter leans her head against you, still beaming.

“That was the best snow day ever,” she says sleepily.

Satoru grins, ruffling her hair. “Of course it was. Your dad makes everything epic.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling, knowing this day will be one of those precious memories you’ll all treasure.

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[gremlin-girly]

It's a Wonderful Life

A Bucky Barnes Christmas fic

Tags/warnings: ANGST, FLUFF, mentions of suicide/depression/abuse/ptsd, post end game, Steve went back, generally depressing stuff but it's a happy ending :)

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied or reposted or put through an AI machine.

Summary: based upon the film of the same name. On Christmas Eve, Bucky takes a walk and meets a stranger who assures him life is worth living.

Word count : tba

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! ☺️ sorry to make it so sad - I may come back amd edit parts but I dont know yet! I apologise for any mistakes etc etc. And there's another note at the very end! - Love, Grem x

Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

Bucky Barnes Collection | Navigation

Christmas Eve in New York was always cold and today was no exception. Bucky wasn't sure how far he'd walked, but he was at a bridge not far from the city, watching the lights wink in the distance.

Leaning on the stone ledge, breathing into his gloved hands to (at the very least) keep his flesh hand warm, he did what he had been doing since the moment he blipped back; think about his entire existence and the lead up to this point, here on the bridge, on Christmas Eve.

The water below whooshed by quickly although you couldn't see the inky mass below. It was loud, almost too loud to hear himself think. He sighed, dropping his hands to the metal railing stuck into the stones.

What was the point of it all?

Bucky wondered, staring into the black void below, if he'd ever truly be free of HYDRA. Sure, his brain was apparently brainwashing-free but, and not to insult Shuri, he was with HYDRA for almost a century.

Almost a century.

Almost a century of abuse. Seven decades worth of scars. Seven decades of murders deserved and not. Seven decades of being frozen and defrosted to the point his body sometimes makes him sick because he shouldn't be out of cryo so long. Seven decades of torture, mental and physical, on top of losing Nat, Tony and... Steve.

End of the line.

What a joke.

What was the point of dragging the Winter soldier kicking and screaming to fix him, to put your life and others' on the line for him; a man who tried to kill you and your friends multiple times, only to leave him once he was back to his old self?

Well, old self was a bit of an exaggeration.

Bucky's grip on the railing tightened, creaking under his strength as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He hated, hated, hated to admit that he was angry at Steve. Resentful. If Bucky was in Steve's position he would have put a bullet in his brain.

He tells himself, night after night, that Steve had good intentions. Bringing him back, fixing him but... leaving him? Bucky knew very few people, and very few (rightfully) didn't trust him. The only connections he had to most people were Steve and with him gone, it was like people stopped having to pretend to tolerate Bucky and left him alone.

And Steve... after the blip, he'd changed. But coming back after five years, five blissful years where there was no fighting, no pain, just nothing... for Steve to vanish like that made Bucky think he had done something wrong.

Bucky didn't know when he had started crying. He wiped his eyes roughly with his hands and sniffed. He was also a man out of time. He didn't understand modern slang, modern music (which was awful), modern romance or any of that texting stuff or Facebook. Or whatever the bird app was. Or was it as letter now? God. Everything was confusing.

There was a sick comfort in knowing what he was good at with HYDRA.

What was the point of it all?

Even if he threw himself over the railing, by some sick cosmic joke he'd probably live; if not by losing another limb.

"Excuse me?" A voice calls. Bucky ignores it. "Bucky Barnes?"

Bucky blinks and looks over in the direction of the voice. It's not one he recognises and neither is the person.

Before him is an old woman, bundled in thick coats and scarves. She has thin, short white curly hair that's almost translucent and an angled face with chubby, rosy cheeks and eyes that glitter with a playful wit. She's somebody's grandma, with that half-stern eyebrow raise, matronly and motherly look rolled into one.

"Hi?" Bucky blinks at her trying to place her. He still doesn't recognise her.

She approaches a little closer and peeks over the bridge where Bucky had been staring and whistles, cutting through the rush of water in the darkness. "I hope you weren't thinking of jumping."

"No." Bucky lies, still confused.

"Ah, clever boy. It would do you no good. Plenty left to do."

"Do I know you?" Bucky asks, staring at her.

"Oh! No. You don't know me." The old lady says cryptically. "But I know you, James Buchanan Barnes. I know everyone."

Bucky stands up to his full height, towering above the old lady, who watches him unphased. He tilts his head at her, narrowing his eyes, trying to decipher who or possibly what she is and what she could possibly want with him.

"I'm guessing you know me from the news? Or from history books?"

"I know you as James Buchanan Barnes, born March tenth, nineteen-seventeen. I know you as the Winter Soldier. I know you as White Wolf and now I know you as just Bucky."

Bucky reels. Civilians didn't know about his time in Wakanda and he was certain that not many people just knew him as Bucky outside of SHIELD.

"How...?"

"Nevermind how." She snips, adjusting her handbag on her forearm. "What brings you to the bridge tonight, Bucky?"

It sounds like a loaded question. It is a loaded question. The old lady seems to be goading him into admitting something he didn't want to admit.

"I...Just out for a walk." He falters, looking down at his feet.

"Perfect. Walk with me?" The old lady offers her arm out to him, and for some reason Bucky is compelled to take it. Walking arm in arm, they slowly make their way back into the thrum of the city centre.

There are people everywhere.

Pretty standard for New York on Christmas Eve. There are kids, carolers, couples and Christmas-everything along the streets. There's music playing Here Comes Santa Claus somewhere, lights flashing and a giant tree decorated to the nines every few blocks.

"Look at them," The old lady murmurs looking out into the crowd with a warm smile. "Aren't they just the sweetest?"

Bucky follows her gaze. There's plenty of laughing kids, couples walking hand in hand and making gooey eyes at one another but Bucky knows there's more beneath the surface; abusers, pick pockets and murderers walk amongst them. He would know.

"Yeah." Bucky says gruffly. "I guess."

The old lady's gaze pierces him with a stern look. "You don't believe me."

"There are just as many bad people as there are good." Bucky huffs. "No matter what, it hardly makes a difference."

"Now, now," The old lady tuts with a small, patient smile. "That's just not true. Look at where we are."

Bucky frowns down at her. He doesn't know why he feels compelled to stay and argue with some random old lady on Christmas Eve, but he does.

"We're in New York, lady." Bucky grumbles. The old lady jerks her head upwards towards the street name etched into the side of a tall concrete building. Time had worn most of the wording away but Bucky could still just about make it out.

"Worthing Street?"

"Worthing Street." The old lady confirms. And glances up at Bucky. "This is where you first met Steven Grant Rogers all those years ago."

"How in the hell-"

"Language." The old lady huffs and then smiles. "I told you. I know you."

Bucky frowns.

"A little bit of good always makes a big difference. It's all about perspective." She chuckles happily. "This is where James Buchanan Barnes met his best friend; protecting him from bullies. Do you know he could've died that day?"

She gives Bucky a sideways glance as memories spill from Bucky's brain. Steve hacking up a lung and trying to stand, his face and knuckles bloody, struggling to catch his breath.

"I remember." Bucky says quietly.

The lady continues. "Had you not stepped in and saved him, your lives would have been very different. Without you, there would be no Steve Rogers, no Captain America as we know him."

"But there'd be no Wonter Soldier either." Bucky counters and is surprised when the old woman cackles at him.

"There would always be a Winter Soldier. Always a Captain America. Whether or not they were you or Steven is another school of fish entirely."

Bucky ponders her words but thinks that maybe discussing alternate realities would melt his brain. Clint had tried when he'd explained the time travel stuff in the search for infinity stones but it gave Bucky a headache. He was from the 40s for God's sake.

"Your small act of kindness, your selflessness, made Steve aspire to be who he was." The old lady says after a moment. "As difficult as it was, Steve felt that he owed it to you to give you back your life. He deemed you worthy of saving above all else."

Bucky's chest tightened. He could feel the sting of tears again and forced them back.

"Probably because I saved his ass more than once," Bucky tries to chuckle, but the lump in his throat is too thick.

"Because you were his brother." The old woman says simply. She looks back out into the crowd once more before tugging on Bucky’s stiff arm. "Come on. We're not done."

"If you know everyone," Bucky begins, walking alongside the old woman. "Why did Steve leave?"

"Love." The old woman sighs. "He had sacrificed so much and so many. He knew you'd be okay."

"Did he?"

The old woman grins wickedly at Bucky. "Of course. You now have Sam."

Bucky scoffs.

"And Sarah. AJ. Cass. Yelena. Alexei. Shuri. Okoye. T'challa. The list goes on." The old woman reaches into her handbag, scouring it for a moment before producing a mint humbug and offering to Bucky who awkwardly accepts it. She finds one for herself and they continue on down the street.

"And there's those you haven't met yet." She says after her humbug has melted enough for her to speak.

Bucky frowns again. "Oh yeah? Like, I don't know, a partner or something?"

The Old Woman's eyes twinkle. "Or something."

Bucky harumphs, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't let himself think about that; a future. How could someone love him? After everything he'd done? He was beyond damaged goods.

But the way the Old Woman speaks, as if she knows, makes a small part of him jump for joy. If even he was worthy of love and affection...

"Must you always do that?"

Bucky gives the Old Woman a sideways glance. "Do what?"

"Scrunching up your face like that." She mimicks Bucky's expression, brows furrowing deeply adding extra wrinkles to her skin and pouting her lips comically. "You look like a sad little basset hound."

Bucky throws up his hands. "Its my face!"

"Well, make it smile more." The Old Woman argues back.

"I'm one hundred and six, lady, you can't tell me what to do!" Bucky's lips twitch upwards when he catches her small smirk. "Where are you taking me now, anyway?"

"We're going to see a friend of mine."

Horizon Resedential Care was one of the more impressive care homes in New York. Set within a small block with a park for residents to mull about in, the care home boasted glowing reviews from family members who adored seeing their loved ones sociable, active and well cared for.

The small, wrought iron gate was shut; locked tight to ensure no residents went walk about in the ice and snow. Only the intercom button glowed red, begging to be pressed, to allow family visits.

"No." Bucky said, standing outside the gate. His feet couldn't move. He felt sick. He wanted to run. "I'm not going in there."

The Old Woman looked at him sadly, heartache etched all over her face. "She'd love to see you, you know."

"I - would she? Surely she thinks..." Bucky swallows thickly.

Surely she thinks I'm dead?

"You don't give the woman enough credit." The Old Woman chuckles with a shake of her head. "They watch documentaries in there all the time. The latest one was that Netflix special on the Winter Soldier."

"Oh my God." Bucky murmurs.

"Language." The Old Woman puffs. "Rebecca is more upset that you haven't come to visit her."

Bucky's heart clenches uncomfortably. "She is?"

"Of course. And you clearly know she's in there." The Old Woman gives him another annoying, knowing look. "You’ve known she was alive and haven't visited. Why?"

"Why?" Bucky growls, irritation and a sense of overwhelm crashing over his nerves like a tsunami. "My baby sister is old. I am a killer. How could I show my face to her after everything?"

The Old Woman only shrugs, turning away and beginning to walk down the street again. "You'd be surprised at how much love can forgive, Bucky. But remember, you have her back. You ought to make the most of the time you have together. Perhaps you should not let her think that you have forgotten her."

Bucky's flesh hand is fisted to hard he can feel his bones ache. He grinds his teeth as he fights down his temper. Who was this woman? And how did she know so much about him?

Jogging to catch up to her, Bucky hangs his head falling into step beside her.

"Im sorry for snapping." He grumbles. "Its just-"

"No need to apologise." She holds up a hand and still wears that kind, grandmotherly smile. "However, I do have one more person I'd like you to meet. She should be up this next street."

She?

The alleyway the Old Woman stopped in was... well, exactly how you would imagine an alleyway at the busiest time of year to look like. Trash cans scattered, rotting food mixed with debris and cardboard neatly lining each side of the alley.

"She's supposed to be here." The Old Woman comments, looking down at a thin gold watch around her wrist.

Bucky watches as a rat dives into a trash can and grimaces. "Who?"

"Ah!" The lady throws up her hands and waves at someone past Bucky. "There she is!"

Bucky turns but there's nobody there. He's about to argue with the old lady when a soft meow draw his attention to the ground. At his feet, sitting daintily with wide blue eyes, is the scruffiest white kitten he'd ever seen.

"Alpine."The Old Woman beams. "I was worried you wouldn't make it."

Bucky looks at the rosy cheeked old lady; cherub-like with her dimpled smile and then down at the kitten, who chirps at him. There's something about the Old Woman that's strangely familiar, but he can't quite place it.

"Bucky, Alpine. Alpine, Bucky." She nods and the kitten, Alpine, looks back to Bucky. Bucky stares back. This is entirely surreal.

"What the hell is-"

"She's your companion." She says matter of factly. "I had to pull a few strings to get her a little sooner but-"

"I don't know the first goddamn thing about looking after a cat!"

"Language!" The Old Woman snaps before adding spritely, "You'll learn."

Alpine toddles over to Bucky, circling around his legs and purring loudly. Bucky blinks. Once. Twice. This wasn't a dream. All of this, the wandering was real and not some sort of fucked up nightmare like he was used to having.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when Alpine's giant jeweled eyes meet his and she meows quietly; looking up at him with adoration that said I trust you.

"She needs you as much as you need her." The Old Woman says softly. "Take good care of eachother, you two."

He squats down and offers his flesh hand to Alpine, who sniffs it gingerly before bumping her tiny head against it. Bucky had never been one to say whether he was a dog or cat person, he never had either growing up, and then with the war and HYDRA.... But looking at this kitten before him, his heart was already a puddle at his feet.

Bundling Alpine into his leather jacket, Bucky turned to find the space the Old Woman had occupied was empty. Bucky whipped his head up and down the alleyway and peeked out onto the street. She'd disappeared.

Shaking his head slightly, he looked down at Alpine snuggled against him.

"This has got to be the weirdest Christmas Eve ever." He mutters, stepping into the street and heading back to his apartment.

Bucky's apartment was a lot noisier than when he'd left it over three hours ago. And far more brightly coloured with tinsel and fairy lights.

AJ and Cass are playing some video game on his sofa, Sarah is making something that smells delicious and Sam was in the middle of finishing up the decorations.

"I know you said you didn't want anyone around," Sam starts nervously, already holding his hands in surrender as Bucky opens the door. "But no one should be alone on Christmas. Sarah and I-"

Sam stops and looks at Bucky's jacket as Alpine pokes her head out. "Is that a cat?"

"Uh, yeah." Bucky looks down at Alpine who meows loudly. "This is Alpine."

"Right. Sorry." Sam shakes his head before continuing. "Sarah and I brought some food and snacks and the boys are gonna watch Christmas movies. I'd love it if you'd join us, Buck."

"I... yeah." Bucky nods and swallows thickly, smiling over at Sam. "Thanks, pal. Although... you're in my house."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam waves a hand dismissively but his grin is wide. "Come on. You hungry? We've got plenty of snacks. No cat friendly ones though."

Alpine puffs in annoyance making Bucky chuckle as he joins Sam and Sarah in his small kitchenette. Warmth blossoms in his tight chest as the ice begins to thaw. He tries not to let it show, when tears prickle his eyes again in the warm, flashing lights.

The Old Woman was right; there was plenty left to do.

~ END ~

A/N: Nadolig Llawen! Or happy holidays wherever you are. I hope you're having a good time!

I've been writing and editing this all damn day in between work and cooking.

Originally I played with a few ideas but ultimately decided that I wanted to keep it as non-complex as possible (but if you are curious, yes Old Woman was an angel - specifically I chose Gamaliel Angel of protection and strength, Angel of Cherubs, "recompense of God" - thanks Wiki for that one). I'm not Christian, but a big supernatural fan (hence why I loved this fic idea). I thought if anyone was to be thrown into an old school movie (Like It's a Wonderful Life) it would be Bucky.

And don't worry, he visited Rebecca the next day.

I hope you enjoyed if you've read this far! And once again, happy holidays

- Love, Grem x

[wildflowerwoodsworld]

Wild's Black Clover Fic Recs Part Two

This is part two of the list, but I'm putting all the same stuff that was at the top of the other list here too. This is the shippy list

So, I've seen a lot of these floating around over the years and they all seem to have the same dozen fics on them, so I want to try and highlight some of the lesser known fics in this fandom I love alongside some of the more well-known ones. (Note: I have done my best to avoid reccing more than three/four fics by the same person to make sure plenty of authors make it onto the list, not just the popular ones)

This is not just my tastes, I have asked a lot of other people in this fandom for their own fic recs to compile into this list.

Disclaimer: despite my best attempts to be unbiased with this list, I'm human. There are some amazing fics that I haven't personally read bc they contain my NOTPs or tags I don't like or they just squick me out. This is not a complete list of fics in the fandom you should read. This is a list of fics I, and my friends, like.

I will also not be including any purely smut fics on this list.

Wordcounts have been rounded to the nearest 1000 words. They might be slightly longer or slightly shorter than the wordcount listed.

With that being said, let's get into it!

Popular Ship Fics

The Plan by ThisHopeIsADangerousThing

Rating: M Ships: YamiChar Length: 48k When Yami kisses Charlotte in an attempt to win a bet, he's unaware that their colleagues, families and friends think that he's proposed, and equally unaware that he was the cause of her broken heart. Going along with the engagement seems like the easiest solution until he discovers three things: a violent plot against the kingdom, a secret organisation hidden in plain sight and his growing feelings for her.

Not a Wink by eclipsingbinary

Rating: T Ships: YamiFin Length: 4k Finral remembers Yami saying that he couldn't sleep a wink after Finral was hurt during the Royal Knights tournament. But Yami threatens to murder him most days, so Finral would be forgiven for thinking that Yami's exaggerating as normal. Yami isn't.

Broken Angel by Acacia_May

Rating: T Ships: Astelle Length: 5k Noelle Silva was used to being told what she couldn’t do. As a magicless child born inexplicably to the Royal House of Silva, her family had taken great care to hide her and her lack of mana from the rest of the world. However, despite being told over and over again that she would never amount to anything more than her family’s shameful secret, Noelle never gave up her dream to become a magic knight. When she joins the Black Bulls and meets Asta, an orphan from Hage who dreams of being the Wizard King despite his mana-draining magic having left him a social outcast, she begins to develop a new dream: a dream to fight by his side and to protect him just as he has always rushed to her defense and always watched over her like a guardian angel. But all dreams come at a price… Written for Astelle Week 2022. Rated for action sequences & thematic elements. Thank you for reading!! <3

Black Clover Soulmate Tattoo AU (Series) by Oighear

Rating: M Ships: Astelle, Nozessa, Zobra, YamiWill, Finral/Finesse Length: 685k In a world where magic is everything, there is one thing even magic can't do anything about: Fate. As Fate inks the soulmates' first words to each other on their skins, the humans who are toyed with struggle to come to terms with what it means to have their destinies tied together. Diverges from canon from the Spade Invasion

Last of the real ones (Ongoing) by Willows_Bend (Katy_Stark)

Rating: T Ships: Magluck, YamiFin Length: 14k An AU where Magna, Vanessa, and Finral are all petty criminals in Clover City, and the rest of the Black Bulls are police. They're pretty harmless and more irritating than anything else. Still, the law is the law. But until Clover City Police Department manage to get hard evidence of their crimes, they're off the hook - at least as far as Police Captain Yami Sukehiro is concerned. Though, this is the first time Magna has actually had to use Plan C.

The Dragon and the Mage by CloversDreams

Rating: T Ships: MagLuck Length: 7k Every few days like clockwork the hotheaded mage showed up and challenged him to a fight. Luck hadn’t turned him down once. No matter how many times he lost, or Luck broke those silly glasses he wore, the guy always declared he’d return. And he did. Luck had started to anticipate his arrival. Their battles were a surprising amount of fun. The mage learned from all their previous scuffles and tried to trip him up, but Luck’s battle instinct was on a level all its own. He wouldn’t lose. It was probably around the six or seventh time that Luck actually greeted the mage with a ‘hello, human’. He was immediately attacked with a fireball and told not to call the guy that. Luck smiled from ear to ear as he easily dodged the flames. He moved lightning fast until he was nose to nose with the mage. He had a wild look in his wide eyes when he asked what he should call the human then. A grin spread across his face when he actually received an answer. Then he sent the guy flying backwards with one punch. This ordeal continued for weeks and Luck hadn’t tired of it yet. Humans were boring. Except for one. Luck rather liked the tenacious fire mage called Magna.

Of Course It's You by CloversDreams

Rating: T Ships: MagLuck Length: 4k Soulmates. The idea was a whisper which traveled along a breeze that stopped every now and again to tell its tale to random passersby. The concept was so obscure these days that it was nearly forgotten to history. Those that did recall never spoke of it. Most brushed it off without a second thought. The idea wasn’t widely recognized since society deemed it ridiculous. And for good reason, too. According to legend, there was only one known way to identify soulmates, which was by a mark that appeared on both of them. It might’ve been reasonable enough if not for the conditions necessary for the mark to appear. This was where things got so ludicrous that no one could bring themselves to accept that the tales were based in truth. According to the whispers upon the wind, soulmarks didn’t activate until the pair fell in love. Ridiculous. Absolute nonsense. Whose brilliant idea was that?

Over My Heart by JohnnyCremains

Rating: T Ships: MagLuck Length: 1k The names on their skin may have been the mana’s way of pointing out those who would impact them, but it was up to them to determine how. Magna has thought about things more than he’d like to admit.

Darker yet Darker by Ccaprico

Rating: Not Rated Ships: YamiChar Length: 1k Because darkness will always do what darkness does best: corrupt.

Keeping Score by solarwitchwrites

Rating: M Ships: YamiFin Length: 92k Even people who've known Yami for less than five minutes usually agree that he's an ass. Those who've known him a bit longer usually tack on, 'sadistic bastard.' If they really know him, they might throw in that he's a decent guy underneath it all, but that's what they always start with. By contrast, Yami is probably the only person who would use those terms to describe Finral. Then again, so far as Yami knows, he's the only one Finral's really shown that side to. Though he's gotten a bit snarkier with the Bulls. It almost makes Yami pity all the girls who only see the playboy routine. The real Finral is a hell of a lot more fun to mess with. (A while back on tumblr I posted a YamiFin headcanon about Finral secretly being a little shit, and this is the fic-child of that headcanon. Basically, the Keeping Score ficverse is a bunch of oneshots wherein Yami and Finral start out as friends who mess with each other as a running joke, and eventually become lovers who mess with each other as a running joke.)

Green, Pink, and Grayscale by juviin

Rating: G Ships: Astelle Length: 3k Soulmates are a thing of the past, or at least, they should be. So why does the youngest child of the royal Silva family see no colors? Asunoe Soulmate AU where you can't see color until you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Rarepair Fics

Marriage Mishap (ongoing) by nodanova15

Rating: T Ships: SilverMantis Length: 26k Nozel snapped. “I’m already married.” The lie came unexpectedly easy, and the second his words caught up with him, he cursed himself. “What?” To his side, Fuegoleon startled, eyes wide, and mouth slightly gaping. “What!?” Nebra looked far worse than his cousin. “What do you mean— You’re married!?” Or Nozel gets caught up on a lie that drags none other than the notorious Jack The Ripper into his (personal)life.

wildest dreams (because falling's not the problem) (Series) by IAmStoryteller

Rating: M Ships: YunoMimoLang Length: 85k I accidentally started a Yuno/Langris/Mimosa series, oops.

distance (Crossover) by Funky_Sea_Cryptid

Rating: T Ships: RuMagLuck Length: 26k Magna Swing is reaped for the 64th Annual Hunger Games. The odds were never in his favor to begin with.

(i think) i love you by Falahime

Rating: M Ships: YamiNacht Length: 10k Yami woke, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles, and just stared at the ceiling. Okay, just because he was having the most vivid wet dreams he’d had since he was a teenager (which was also when he met Nacht, but that had to be coincidence, right?) did not mean he was in love with the guy— With an irritated groan, Yami grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his face and let out a yell, trying to smother the sound and himself both. Rating: M Ships: YamiNacht Length: 10k Yami woke, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles, and just stared at the ceiling. Okay, just because he was having the most vivid wet dreams he’d had since he was a teenager (which was also when he met Nacht, but that had to be coincidence, right?) did not mean he was in love with the guy— With an irritated groan, Yami grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his face and let out a yell, trying to smother the sound and himself both.

"It's Called Breakfast, Stupid." by bvchivtvriko

Rating: T Ships: YamiJack Length: 4k The rituals are intricate, and Jack's deciding to slice them up a bit.

The Awful Edges Where You End by Bean_Market_Mafia, Funky_Sea_Cryptid

Rating: M Ships: YamiNacht Length: 63k Seven years after he gained a gruesome gift that he didn’t want, Yami Sukehiro moves from a temp job in San Francisco into a broken-down estate in Maine. It’s expensive and busted to hell, but it’s a place that finally, finally seems empty. This kind of story only goes one way. Watch to see if the silverware has turned black. Watch to see if the table has begun to rot. If the blood from the wall starts to glisten like oil and decay, the door will be lost to you, and you will be left with nothing but your sins to contend with.

I Can't Say Anything Clever, But Let's Chase a Cat Together by JadeGM

Rating: T Ships: YamiMorgen Length: 3k In which the Black Bulls' hideout actually is haunted, and Luck can vaguely sense/hear ghosts. ...Gordon can do it too, but nobody can hear him most of the time, so it barely comes up.

Thawing Of A Frozen Heart by eclipsingbinary, Firefutte

Rating: T Ships: YunoLang Length: 48k Daily News Exclusive: Business Scandal of the Century The esteemed owners of Vauditren Real Estate and Industrial Developments, Ledior and Liliane Vaude, were arrested at their city penthouse yesterday evening. The billion dollar company and its assets have been frozen as part of the police investigation. At the time of going to press, further details have not not been made public. A police spokesman declined our request for an interview. There has been no official comment from the company's public relations department. Board members, including the Vaudes' son and heir, Langris Vaude, were unreachable. -- Finral read the article one more time. This was bad. This was very bad. (The story where Langris Vaude loses everything, and gains more than he ever thought he could have.)

my song, my sorrow, and i (Ongoing, Crossover) by Funky_Sea_Cryptid

Rating: T Ships: Fuegoleon/Salamander Length: 47k After repeated failures, and with his devotion to the God he worships waning, Fuegoleon Vermillion is given one last chance to prove himself.

the fabula crepidata (Ongoing) by Bean_Market_Mafia

Rating: M Ships: Fuegoleon/Salamander Length: 46k With his confidence in his abilities shattered after losing his arm, Fuegoleon is enlisted to take on a case that hits a little too close to home.

The Hangover by subtleassiduities

Rating: T Ships: Solid/Langris, Silva Family Length: 13k After waking up in a strange predicament with a certain Vaude, Solid flounders to figure out what he did during a blackout while also dealing with an unexpected obstacle: A crush. He achieves neither goal with ease, but he does achieve both!

Black Heart Scarring Darker Still by AvaCelt

Rating: T Ships: William/Patri Length: 2k William knows he's a coward, but even cowards can love, and if Zenon wants to hurt the other half of his heart, then William has no problem becoming the Devil himself. [William/Patolli, canon divergence, spoilers up to chapter 262]

Heart of the Ocean, Love of the Sea by AvaCelt

Rating: T Ships: YamiJack Length: 2k Four hundred pounds of muscle and a sword don't mean anything anymore, but lesser men have loved and been loved in return, so why can't Yami Sukehiro? [Yami/Jack, post-rescue, canon divergence, spoilers up to chapter 262]

Hey, Little Songbird, Cat Got Your Tongue? by AvaCelt

Rating: T Ships: LumiNero, Nero & The Bulls Length: 2k Secre Swallowtail atones for her sins by looking after a family of misfits. Somewhere in Hell, Zagred laughs at her, and Secre finds herself laughing with him. [one-sided Secre/Lumiere, parental!Secre & Asta, parental!Secre & the Black Bulls, canon compliant but explores Black Clover demon lore]

Crossing the Line by eclipsingbinary, WildflowerWoods

Rating: M Ships: YunoLang, Langris & the Golden Dawn, Finral & Langris As a the out of favour Vaude son, his useless spatial magic would never be what his family desired, no matter how hard he tried to force it into shapes it would never become. His long-term survival depended on being of use, and as he reached grimoire age, his use was rapidly running out. He knew they would never let him reach fifteen. Somehow, against the odds, he survives and works out how to live a life that he never expected to have. There are people who help him find a place in a new family where he is loved. He has a squad and a future, even if he is never without the consequences of that last night in Tota. Then the death of the King brings history crashing into the life he made for himself, and with it comes the brother he never expected to see again.

Oh What Am I Supposed to Do Without You? by supernaturalgrant

Rating: T Ships: FuegoNozel Length: 13k “Mercury poisoning.” The silence that follows Owen's statement is deafening. The occupants of the room share looks of utter confusion. “That’s like saying Fuegoleon has third-degree burns from that cool ass fire arm situation he has going on.” Yami’s the first to break it. Or: Nozel is diagnosed with mercury poisoning and forced to give his magic up until the can find a cure. Chaos ensues.

Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor by supernaturalgrant

Rating: T Ships: FuegoNozel Length: 17k “He’s dumb as fuck.” She asserts bluntly. It surprises an honest laugh out of Nozel, which seems to amuse her slightly. “You know that, right?” “I can’t force him to be with me, Mereoleona. Even I am not that high-reaching.” He tells her honestly. Or- Fuegoleon and Nozel break up when Nozel is promoted to the Silver Eagles captain, neither of them really knows why.

[sirkendryan]

well since you asked so nicely...

(cw: alcohol, slight dubcon)

I press my body to the closed door like a barricade against it, overwhelmed with the reflex to shield my prince. he looks so vulnerable there on the bed, endless bare skin washed in amber candlelight, gazing over his shoulder at me with eyes bright creased by a grin. he's sprawled on his belly, knees bent and feet lazily kicking in the air, the draw and gather of his soft flesh offering peeks at his ass, arched up ever-so-slightly.

still buzzing under the possess of the wine from the feast, I think for a moment that I'm dreaming awake to see him there like that.

"took you long enough," he jests. "I've been waiting for you."

I look away and then look back, drawn by opposing manner and desire. my neck and cheeks are burning.

"oh, don't play so coy, knight. hardly a fresh sight to you."

I am suddenly very aware of my body in that most private of spaces, the heart of the prince's bedchamber. the room smells faintly of orange, cedar, and spice drifting in from the corridors like a wandering ghost. the air is chilled, but even entirely unclothed the prince doesn't seem bothered by it in the least.

he drops his legs to dangle his feet from the bed, peering keenly at me as he parts his knees just a touch. I could have guessed as much, but now there is no denying how wet he is, his cunt glistening and the hair there beaded with drips of slickness.

the rush of blood through my body leaves me dizzy. my tongue sits lame in my mouth.

"do you not think we deserve to celebrate amongst ourselves, something more intimate than the banquet?" he inquires, exaggerating an innocent tone.

he shifts again, rising up on his knees and pedestalling that perfect ass higher. I know now he must have been touching himself in my absence because I can smell him all over the bed even from paces away. as if reading my mind, he brings his right hand to his mouth and sucks his middle and ring fingers slowly, face still smushed to the bedspread as he angles his head to look back at me. he gives a light chuckle.

"say something, you dunce."

"I am... surprised," I manage to say. the only armour I have on is my chainmail, but the weight of it against my crotch is restriction enough to hurt. "sire, perhaps the festivities have gotten the better of you, I don't think..."

my words slip from my mouth when the prince slides a hand between his thighs and his fingers run against his swollen cock.

"you don't think what?"

"I... it's just... this is rather unbecoming," I protest, but I am already worrying at my gloves, distractedly tugging them off. "I would object none to closing the night with satisfying you, but I don't see how such a position—"

"you have done me good service the whole year through, gentle sir," insisted the prince, voice huskier. his fingertips trace his dripping hole. "it is the season of goodwill and giving. allow me to reward you for a job well done."

"your highness..."

"yes, sir knight?"

when his fingers dip inside of himself I flinch and my resolve slips.

I unclasp my cloak and let it fall to the floor. I move in a frenzy to kick out of my boots and shuck off my belt and breeches, brow drawn hard, watching my prince breathe a soft groan into the mattress. a moment later I am standing mid-stride and half-naked, still with my chainmail upon my torso veiling my released cock, hard and leaking against the chilled metal. I hesitate again a mere pace from the bed's border.

"my lord," I gasp out, "this isn't proper. to do this... to enter you like this would be..."

my hands hover at my sides. my palms ache for his hips. I want to dig my fingers into that giving flesh and hold him fast and fuck him like a devotee of pain worshipping their god in a brothel—but this is my prince I am lusting for so perversely.

"turn on your back, sire. let me please you with my mouth," I offer. my mouth waters as he draws his fingers from his well-slicked entrance.

"tonight is about your pleasure, knight. you can have me any way you want me. if that's truly what you desire, I will have no issue in obliging," coos the prince, smiling puckishly, "but something tells me that you'd like me to stay this way so you can ravish me just like this. am I wrong?"

he's eyeing my cock as it twitches, bouncing under my chainmail. the hunger on his face burns as bright as that in my guts, and the last of my resistance snaps.

I can't wait. I ruck up the bottom of the mail as I close in on him, grabbing at his ass and forcing his hips farther to the edge of the bed. he yelps but spreads himself diligently before me. I can feel his heat even before I position myself, priming with selfish strokes of my hard prick in my hand, grunting with my building anticipation.

"go on, my knight," huffs the prince, his hole twitching eagerly. "make me yours."

I want to draw it out, to savour him like this, to rub myself against his cunt until I can't stand it anymore, but impatience takes me. I slide bit by bit into him, pulling him in until flesh meets flesh and I am as deep as I can get.

he's moaning now, dreadfully loud, but I don't care about the risk of his voice carrying beyond the walls of his chambers. I am enveloped in pleasure and all I want is more. I try to grant mercy with a slow pace, but I need more of him, more of his slick cunt gripping me, and considerations of mercy are exceeding my reach.

I cannot help myself from slamming into him. my force knocks him back down his to belly and I follow, clambering atop my gasping prince, trapping him on the bed beneath me. he grabs at my arm when I plant a hand by his shoulder and the feel of his hands on my sleeve ground me a little. for a moment I slow.

"s-sire," I pant, my voice trembling. "you feel so good... you feel too good—"

"please, knight," he whimpers. from the pitiful sob in his voice I fear he may beg my halt. "please... don't stop, sir knight, please... ruin me."

like a struck pressure point, those words drive me back to relentless, wild rutting. the chainmail slaps between us and scrapes against the prince's back and ass, painting it a raw pink. I cover him with my body, dropping to my elbows and burying my face in the nape of his neck. I breathe in the scent of his hair and taste his skin with a stolen kiss as my ears fill with his beautiful cries.

"if I had known," I grunt, my voice tightening with each thrust, a harmony to the prince's choppy whines and sobs, "oh, your highness, if I had known what rapture it is to have you this way, to sink myself into you and keep you beneath me this way, by jesu, I would have taken you sooner." the words run together in a ramble as the tension in my gut tightens. "each time— each time you called upon me to kneel and please you, I would have laid you out and taken you like this, taken you and made you mine—my lord, my prince, oh god, mine, my own—!"

I do not ease my pace as I come inside my prince, lost to the pleasure. he is writhing beneath me and clawing at my arms, helpless and howling, chanting pleas of my name on strained breaths. for a moment I see stars and a ringing underlines the symphony of raw cries, striking flesh, and jingling mail.

I slow when the ringing fades. I can barely hold myself up but I do, lest I crush the prince entirely beneath me. gradually, my sense returns as my peak wanes.

"sire?" I huff. "are you... alright?"

a chuckle rumbles up against my ribcage between heavy breaths.

"don't tell me... you're bowing out now, knight... we have all night yet before christmas ends."

it's Christmas, don't forget to call your loyal knight to your chambers after the festivities to reward him for his good service all year long. get on your royal knees for him, get on all fours and let him take you from behind like a dog in heat, serve him. You've both been waiting all year for this. he will protest that it is beneath you, to allow him to debase you in this way, but he knows how badly you want it, how you yearn for any excuse to give yourself to him, and he'll forget any objections once he has you crying under him

[lockandkeyhyena]

godddd i honestly have so few opinions on hazbin hotel but one of those is that there’s just too. much. swearing. like goddamn they really overdo it to an unrealistic and frankly distracting degree

[deoidesign]

heard it's "make a terrible comic" day

Finally hit 10,000 hours this month after starting making comics full time 2.5 years ago

decided to play paper mario instead of making more comics today (I beat it)

[sonknuxadow]

sonic prime episodes will either be really fun and have cool or interesting moments that youll be thinking about for days or the most boring shit youve ever seen that youre basically only watching so you can get to the good stuff. no in between

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT LOKI'S SHOES (ACTUALLY, HIS WHOLE WARDROBE)

Production costs aside, clothes tell the audience about how characters think of themselves.

Loki's shoes in the S2 finale raised a lot eyebrows, but I find them quite fitting: they are comfortable, practical, and most importantly, they are humble. The camera brings this to our attention to communicate his evolution in character.

Loki has always dressed well, often times ostentatiously. Whether he is at war, passing as a Midgardian, or held captive as an Asgardian prisoner, Loki communicates his social class and sense of superiority through clothing. For him, clothing armors his fragile sense of self and against others' opinions of him. He intends to be perceived as deadly charming but ultimately unapproachable.

His attire in the first Thor movie is roughly equal parts green and gold, signifying his royal status. His style is dressed down for his brother's misadventures in Jotenheim, yet overall both silhouettes are lofty, princely, but not hardened or threatening.

In Avengers, Loki's look has more black and leather, with exaggerated emphasis on his shoulders meant to intimidate as he assumes the role of villain. The silhouette is very hard, heavy, and edgy. Gold detailing is prevalent as well. Combined with the goat's helm, this is Loki's most pretentious outfit, which speaks to an undercurrent of low self-esteem and a compulsive need to impress. There's no mistaking he is the main antagonist of the story.

In Thor 2, Loki's attire is similar to Avengers but the overcoat is exchanged for a less bulky version (perhaps conveying he is less guarded now that the effects of the Mind Stone are no longer influencing him). Loki's role likewise pivots from the harsh lines of a villain to the more flexible edges of a reluctant villain-turned-ally. This aligns with his character arc when he protects both Jane and Thor, seemingly sacrificing himself.

In Thor 3, Loki's silhouette is streamlined even further. The overcoat is done away with in favor of what appears to be a leather doublet, pauldrons, and vambraces. Gold accents are minimal. While stylish, Loki's attire is more practical than showy, and his helm serves the dual purpose of protection as well as weaponry. At this point in his arc, Loki has become a full antihero, joining his brother's side in rescuing as many Asgardians as possible, and eventually dying in a vain bid to protect Thor from Thanos.

The TVA does something very fun and interesting in taking away Loki's ability to dress himself. Since Loki cannot use his magic in the TVA, he is forced to wear the same clothing as his captor/advocate, who eventually becomes his best friend and peer.

Perhaps, on a subconscious level, this helped Loki to feel included. We know by his pwn admission that Loki fears being alone and desperately craves a sense of belonging. At the same time, he intentionally dresses to put people at a distance, thereby protecting himself from potential rejection at the cost of isolating himself further.

When Mobius gives him that TVA jacket for the first time, Loki seems uncharacteristically pleased. It is not an attractive jacket by any means, yet he neither scoffs at it nor refuses to wear it. Instead, Loki puts it on and is content when Mobius says it looks "smart" on him. He continues to dress like Mobius and, indeed, mimic some of his mannerisms such as placing his hands on his hips. Without clothing meant to push people away, Loki opens up, has more fun, and makes friends.

Loki's choice of attire as he assumes the mantle of God of Stories (and time) is fascinating. Setting aside the clear design inspiration from the comics, Loki's silhouette is soft, remarkably so. His colors are earthy hues of green, and the only bit of flare are the light gold trimming and crown. The look brings to mind the garb of sages and wise wizards rather than royalty or warriors. He's powerful yet approachable because there is humility in his bearing. And that humility springs from a well of healthy self-worth, self-love, and a deep love for others.

The shoes are not meant to be attractive. They are meant to help him ascend the throne, nothing more.

[mixingandmelting]

Secretly Admiring You Artistically

Summary: How he's expressing that you're in his mind through art

a/n: based on scenes in the comics as civilians

Dick: Doodles

He’s dying. Actively decaying in real-time. Why he brought back the notepad from his day job as an officer home or why Haley pulled it out from his bag and gave it to you, he has no idea. To make matters worse, he’s crouching on the ground with both hands covering his very-much burning face as you stand in front of him silently, flipping through each page that’s filled with doodles of you rather than work notes he should’ve been taking for the cases he’s working on.

 It isn’t an exaggeration to say his world revolves around you. He’s not ashamed or has any problem expressing how much of a simp he is for you whether it’s to you or everyone both verbally and physically, 24/7. Seriously, he can’t go a day without getting a kiss from you or telling you how much he loves you, no matter the situation. He’s constantly stuck to your side, always smiling from how you showered him with affection back, spoiling him silly to the point he’s thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world. But artistically? He drew a stick figure once during a game of Scribble. Tim was for sure that it was a basketball hanging on a fishing pole. Bruce had told him he can help him get enrolled for art classes. 

“So, did the sarge or corporal see any of this yet?”

“No…,” He manages to wheeze out. He needs the ground to swallow him up right now. He still can’t believe this is how his (poorly and very much terribly drawn) doodles of you are discovered and exposed to you of all people. When he hears the notepad being closed shut, he musters all the strength in his mind and body. “...Can I please have my notepad back now?” He knows the answer. And he knows what’s about to happen next. But maybe today he’ll be lucky he’ll get it back- 

“Nope.” The way you pop the “p” at the end of the word - of course you wouldn’t. He doesn’t even need to look at you to know the type of grin you have on your face.

With that, he gets up and yells your name as he gets up to chase after your running form. Sure, he’s dreading what exactly you might do with the doodles but his heart is filled with adoration from how he still managed to give you happiness from them. You are the most lovable person in the world to him - he can’t wait to kiss the ever living lights out of you when he gets you.

Jason: Poetry

Oh. Well. This is embarrassing.  He rubs the back of his neck, face completely dyed red. You snuggling your face into the crook of his neck while embracing his biceps is fine. In fact, he loves waking up to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. His heart always swells with affection from how you feel so warm and right in his arms while being reminded how you genuinely enjoyed and appreciate him and his presence.  The problem was the book lying open on the coffee table next to him. The book filled with romantic poems that he placed on his face after deciding to take a power nap which ended up as a snooze session.

He had been reading each poem, using a sticky note and red pen (because he’s not a heathen to ruin such beautiful and sacred text) to mark which parts or lines reminded him of you the most. Each sticky note had arrows drawn with whatever note he’d make about you, placed on the long-edge of the pages. It was obvious you had found out the contents of the book before joining him on the sofa as you had done the same, only your sticky notes were sticking out from the shorter-edge. 

“Jason… What’s wrong?” He quickly turns his head away, covering the lower half of his face. The fact you aren’t even letting go when you usually would makes things worse, your grip tightening instead of getting loose. He doesn’t turn around to know the expression you’re making, feeling you nuzzle into his side.

“...Are you telling Roy or the others about this?” 

“What? Hell no. This is only for you and me- why would I want to share it?”

With that, he topples over you and wraps himself around you like a giant, warm teddy bear. On top of relief, he’s filled with childish glee from getting to share something that’ll only be meant between you and him. It gets a chuckle from him when you laugh at how ticklish he makes you as he snuggles into you, eventually making you two fall asleep in each other’s embrace with smiles on your faces.

Tim: Photography

He’s pacing in circles in his room. Then he’s flopping onto his bed and screaming into his pillow. Pacing in the room. And again, screaming into his pillow. He’s been repeating this exact pattern for ten minutes straight now after finding the photo album on his desk. How Stephanie found out about them or why she showed them to you when you stopped by while he was out, he doesn’t know nor want to know. But he’s pretty sure  that he's doomed. Best case scenario is break up. Worst case scenario is you choosing to never see him again because you found him creepy. 

But, it’s not his fault, okay? He’s really down bad for you. Even when he’s dating you, he keeps finding himself falling for you deeper and deeper to the point he doesn't want to miss a single moment whenever he’s with you. So, every time the two of you went on dates or plainly hung out, he’d take pictures of you. You standing on a hill during a sunset, looking outside with the window down in his car, laughing in front of a bonfire with a marshmallow on a stick in your hands. He can’t imagine life without you. He needs to be with you even if it’s in a photo. 

Finally, he  gets back up and dejectedly drags his feet to the desk. Might as well put the album away before more people find out about it. Or so he thought when he suddenly freezes at the sight of a note sitting on top of it. There’s only a single sentence in your hand writing, making him do what it says. Having memorized the order of the photos in each album, he immediately finds a photo of him laughing while sitting on top of the hood of his car. It sits adjacent to a photo of you doing the same, making it look like the two of you were laughing while looking at each other. Heart skipping a beat with tears threatening to spill, he doesn’t look away when he grabs his phone and dials your number. 

“So? Are we hanging out tonight?” 

“No, we’re doing more than that. We’re going to go all out, my treat.” 

The way you chuckle does so many wonders to him. With that, he rushes to get ready. Even if he can’t give you the whole world now, he plans on making tonight the best night of your life since there’s no other way for him to express how much he loves you when words can’t cover half of them.

Duke: Notes

He’s an idiot. That’s what he mentally screams to himself when he drops the pile of handwritten notes right in front of you. Not once had he ever mentioned that he had collected all the notes you wrote to him including the ones back before the two of you even got together. All of them were written as your way to cheer him on, secretly giving them to him in every way you possibly can. It’s as if nothing could stop you from passing him a note, whether it’s during class, passing in the hallways, eating lunch, or slipping them in his school bag. There were even times you managed to place them in his textbooks, right where the assigned reading starts.

All those notes you passed to him, he found solace. He feels that he’s being mentally and emotionally supported unconditionally, no matter the circumstances . You don’t know how he cherishes the smiley faces you draw on them or the words you write. Each and every note he treats like they are a piece of you. It led him to keep a few in his pocket, pulling one and reading it to get the extra boost he needs to get through whatever he’s doing even if it’s homework or patrolling the city. 

Now here he was, caught red handed. He’s so nervous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, fearing that you might think he’s strange. Immediately he starts to ramble, spewing every excuse in the book while watching you pick the notes that dropped from his pocket off the ground. 

“They were growing into a pile inside my bag, so I was kind of in the middle of-”

“Do they work?”

He stops and blinks at you. What do you mean they work? There’s a light blush coloring your cheeks, your hands gently straightening each note to stop them from wrinkling and getting damaged further. 

“Are they making you happy?”  Oh. Oh. He pulls you into a strong hug, hoping his actions convey how he feels about you. It’s not the notes that’s making him happy- it’s you and your efforts to make sure he is that makes him the happiest man in the world.

Damian: Sketching

No. Just no. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t muster a single word right now. You were teasing him a minute ago about how he must have sketches of you when he refused to show you his notepad he carries around. Little did you know and much to his horror, you were completely right and that exactly was the reason why he didn’t want to show it to you. In fact, he had been finishing another sketch of you before your so-called attempt to sneak up on him. You being you, you kept probing him into showing his sketches and with him being so flustered, he ended up getting the notepad snatched out of his hand leading to the current situation where both of you are standing with the biggest blush to be seen from mankind. 

It’s not two sketches he’s drawn too. There’s a whole comic strip he drew in there featuring one of his favorite moments he had with you on top of all the other sketches, some being portraits, some being a compilation of various expressions you make on a daily basis. The way he’s constantly stuck about you has gotten to where Jon had gotten smug at guessing what he was thinking of when Jon found him suddenly grinning to himself. That day, the two of them got grounded by their parents once Damian started to threaten Superboy by getting kryptonite out and the other shot lasers out of his eyes as self defense. 

“They’re so beautiful.” Your muttering snaps him back to reality.

Not wasting a second, he grabs his notepad back. Pride damaged and completely panicked by showing a pathetic side to himself to you, he tries to go somewhere, anywhere, away from you. Only to stop when you grab his wrist. 

“Damian, you're absolutely talented.” 

He mentally groans. He hates how you’re sincere and genuine in these moments. You don’t know how much he treasures you because of this - being open, honest, and accepting of his every being. Worse is you not being aware or truly choosing your battles - it’s how you are; it’s part of your nature. Accepting his loss, he sits back down. He refuses to admit how affected he is by the way you smile with excitement when you pick up his sign. Letting his shoulder brush against yours, the two of you go through his drawings with you commenting on each one while he snarks back though it’s softer and filled with fondness.

[lawchwan]

do you like the sound of the music? (law, ace, sanji, zoro, kid)

summary: how the boys sound when they're getting pleasured. reader: gn!reader genre: smut disclaimer: not super detailed smut, but a grave detail on how these fine men sound like a/n: I know I haven't done an a/n, but it has been a minute since I posted here. I have been preoccupied (thanks to being a senior at uni) but now that I am done with everything, I hope I have more free time to post some fics and reignite my love for writing. I won't bore you much and we will proceed with more content (also my fem!law fic is in the works and it'll be put out sometime soon)

crossposted on ao3

Law

as much as i'd like to advocate for the whimper-whiny-loud-subby!law agenda that i have been adapting to my psyche while i was gone, he seems like the quiet kind while he's pleasuring you.

obviously not the type to be overtly silent to the point you won't hear a breath out of him. he's just simply a grunter and a light growler. he won't be very vocal unless you want him too.

when he comes, thats when you hear the magic beautiful sounds. it depends on the type of sex, dynamic, and/or pace you two have set in, he’ll either grunt a dragged deep moan or a slight whimper that cascades into your ears as he spills out his load onto you.

“mm, shit, fuck, y/n, you feel so fucking good…fuck~”

ace

oh that loud ass motherfucker. if you expect him to quiet down, well you’re out of luck. even if you placed a gag on his mouth, he’ll still spill out the loudest moan any human could produce (please gag him, he actually loves it).

ngl he kinda is the type to give exaggerated noises, like im talking those very exaggerated moans that you would hear in those shitty pornos (that ace may or may not unironically enjoy).

if you want to illicit the most hottest whimper that spills out of his mouth, simply just stroke and tug on his wavy locks—he will definitely go feral over this simple manuever. his mouth would probably be wrapped around your nipples, and his muffled moans could be heard on the outside, disturbing whoever’s nearby.

“mm—pfah! you think you can cover my mouth, baby?! huh?! think again—oo FUCK!~”

sanji

another loud boy. maybe not as loud as ace, but definitely can be loud if he needs to be.

he’ll honestly let out the most cutest and hottest moans any person can produce, it can even border into whimpering. he does get embarrassed when he gets super loud though, so keep a gag nearby if needed.

he’ll, however, take pride that only you can push him into the edge and let him produce music to your ears, much to the dismay of the crew. he’ll sometimes purposely moan out loud if it means to piss off zoro and keep him up from his slumber, leaving the green mosshead disgruntled and disgusted.

“oh~oh my god! y/n! you feel so—fuck!”

zoro

zoro’s a grunter. next.

no but in all seriousness, he does seem like a grunter and the type to give you dirty talk. he, like law, is not that talkative but he’ll say the most filthiest of shit in your ears that will leave you melting under his touch.

he’ll also maybe taunt you by groaning along with you with a smirk as he looks down at your wet parts.

“aww, you want my cock that badly?… well you might have to beg for it”

kid

jesus this man is crazy in bed. he strikes me as the type to be a growler. he seems to me to be very animalistic as he rails you like there’s mo tomorrow.

i can see him pinning your hips down as he thrusts himself into you, throwing his head back, letting out the loudest growls and groans as he speeds himself up. he’ll probably start talking in haste manner as well as soon as he feels himself getting closer to let his waterfall out.

“c’mon.. fucking, c’mon! you better come for me. come for me. come for me. come for me—grrr FUCK!”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[glamourscat]

heyy, would you possibly do dick and / or jason nsfw alphabets??👀

JASON TODD NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare with Jason is perhaps even more intense than sex. It’s quiet at the start, his hand is reaching for you. Gently caressing your hip, then your belly and your stomach. Soaking in the quietness of the moment as you calm down from the adrenaline of the moment. His caresses would turn into soft kisses and mutual praises, perhaps a warm bubble bath too.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I would say for his thighs. Despite having a complicated relationship with and what his body has turned into, I think, he would truly enjoy his thighs. Especially seeing you riding them.

On his partner, everything. No, I am not exaggerating. He is the type to lose absolutely all. I do believe he has an aesthetic attraction more prone towards muscular and plus size individuals. Belly, thighs, boobs you name it. He is on it lol

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I truly believe he has a breeding kink and i have nothing else to add

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

…. Hear me out… pegging. LISTEN, I feel when he truly has found his partner all barriers come down. There's nothing more he wants than to be in love and to share his love equally back. He wants to feel safe and once he is secure enough rest assured he won't be shy with his needs and wants. PLS his pretty noises while his eyes roll back? Praising him? Damn it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced but is an eager and fast learner 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good old missionary but especially a fan of cowgirl and doggy

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Not at first. The first few times, and a while after that, he will be pretty serious. Maybe even intense for how emotional the moment is. But as time goes by he would soften up, not to crack jokes, but a few giggles and laughs would for sure come through

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I would say he has some hair. I hc that after the pit his hair grows faster than normal ish, or at least, faster than they used to. He has a happy trail and moderate hair down there that he keeps cut but not completely shaved off

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Struggles with intense emotions but when he manages to work with them, rather than against them, his hopeless romantic side comes out. Expect deep yet soft thrusts, moans that make your shine tingle, kisses that leave you breathless and at least 4 mind blowing orgasms

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t see him as the type to need it constantly. I feel it would be more or so a “hmm i haven't done it in a while and now thinking about it made me horny lets do it”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Like i have said pegging, also praise– heavy on this one– biting, breeding kink, edging and not sure if there's a name for it, but i think he would be into being obnoxiously loud with the intent of being heard especially if he is feeling extra spicy

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed or shower/bath

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. just you. But i feel he would also get off when you two are having friendly back and forth banter/challenges

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can hurt the both of you and restrain on him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He is a giver, he will literally eat you out like a starved man. But, there’s also something he can’t deny, about you, on your knees giving the most sloppy bj he has ever received it keeps him going

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

A mix. Mostly slow and deep, with a few hard thrusts. Extremely sensual on other occasions. Mostly, he will keep a pace stable enough to make you moan his name so many times your throat will be sore after

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Nope, i can’t see him being a big risk taker. Sure, he likes to keep things interesting as he runs on adrenaline– but that's in his vigilante life. In his private life he wants nothing but comfort

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yeah, a few lol. There would be breaks in between, a snack or two. You two talking, and in a way it almost feels like an aftercare in itself

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He wouldn’t necessarily own some but if you do, then once you move in together they become of the both of you. Especially vibrators or dildos, I feel he would be a fan of watching you taking care of yourself before he starts… or, hear me out, gifting you a dildo that resembles his dick in shape, size and girth.. Custom made? Maybe… 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A TEASE. It’s funny yeah, until you do it back and all of the sudden he is turned into the most whiny, moaning mess you have ever seen

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very loud, at start. A few grunts, maybe some moans will escape here and there. As the relationship progresses though, he will grow bolder. Unashamed of his moans as he keeps thrusts in you. Praising you mixed with some filthy words in between

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

After the first time you two had sex he cried, in fact, he cried while he came. It just happened. Maybe it was the wave of emotions, maybe it was how intense everything felt. But he did. He hid his face in your neck, pampering it with kisses as he tried to hide his teary eyes. But when you eventually noticed, he couldn't help but cry a bit more. Now, you two laugh about it, even though it’s something that still embarasses him to this day 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When erected it can reach 7 inches solid. Veiny, thick. Have I mentioned the happy trail already? 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not astronomical. He will feel the need every so often, but he won’t be on you 24/7. In fact I can see him going for weeks without it. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not fast. After aftercare and making sure you’re fine, talking, a snack and waiting for you to fall asleep; he will stay awake a while longer. Allowing himself to soak in this feeling of contentment, safety and peace. His eyes linger on your naked, sleepy form beside him and with a last kiss to your head he will fall asleep hugging you tightly against his body. 

[azrielbrainrot]

Teasing Touches

Pairing: Cassian x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Wing Play

Description: Cassian let's you play with his wings.

Warnings: Smut, wing play, dry humping (but with no clothes?), dirty talk, sub cass, cum eating, implied oral sex

Word Count: 1,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Kinktober 2024 Mastelist

Cassian's hips ground up into your cunt for the millionth time tonight, his bare cock spreading your folds as he moved, strong hands holding onto your hips tightly as he did his best to fight back his instincts and stay still. His entire body was shaking under yours, brows furrowed and lips parted as he lay on the bed before you, and all you've done is run your finger down his wing.

“You need to be careful, sweetheart,” he breathes out through a clenched jaw.

“I'm not hurting you, am I?”

“No, but you know our instincts tell us to-”

“Right,” you interrupt, leaning down to suck a mark onto his chest as you caress the leathery texture of his wing again, running your finger down a line of cartilage.

“Fuck, you're a menace.”

When you asked him to let you touch his wings, it hadn't been your intention to pin him down and tease him like this, but having the famed warrior laid out before you, completely naked as you played with him, was certainly giving you a high you couldn't even begin to explain, every groan and whimper that escaped past his lips traveling straight to your core.

“I know you won't hurt me, Cass,” you murmured against his skin, circling one of his nipples with your tongue while your fingers wandered over the expanse of his wing, taking note of all the places that had him trembling under you, reveling in the feeling of his abs spasming against your torso. “You're too good to me.”

His wings twitch at the praise, a sigh pushing past his parted lips as he lays his head back against the mattress with closed eyes. Cassian could easily overpower or even hurt you if he wanted to, but the fact that he trusted you enough to let you do this, knowing what it meant for an Illyrian male, made your chest feel a bit tight, which is exactly why you wanted to make him cum so hard every other thought escaped his mind.

You had never been with any winged fae before, and Cassian barely gave you any clues on what to do, leaving you to your own devices as you touched and prodded at his wings, trying to find the most pleasurable spots. This hadn't exactly been planned either or you would have tried to get some information out of Rhys so you could be somewhat prepared.

It seemed they weren't exaggerating when they said their wings were extremely sensitive though since everywhere you touched prompted some sort of reaction out of him, whether it be a simple harsh breath, or a needy moan accompanied by a shudder or his hips moving to press his cock up into you.

“You could at least let me fuck you.”

“Think I'd rather watch you cum like this,” you taunt, smirking at the way his eyebrows furrowed together, whatever protest he was coming up with dying on his throat, turning into a drawn out moan when you scraped your nail over the bone connected to his talon.

The more you caressed that same spot, running your finger up and down, the more certain you were that it was as sensitive as your clit, the way he trembled and struggled to keep his wing in place enough to let you know there's exactly where you should be touching him. You start moving with him slowly as well, one of your hands holding onto his waist as you roll your hips against his, some moans of your own escaping as you fully take the sight in front of you.

“You look so pretty,” you breathe out, unable to keep your eyes off the way his cock moved along your cunt, a clear liquid leaking from the tip and wetting his skin as his hard-earned muscles spasmed with each touch of your fingers. “This is all for me, right?”

Cassian lets out a delicious moan in lieu of an answer, a needy sound coming from deep within his chest, grinding up into you even harder, eyes entranced by the way your body moved in tandem with his, looking up at you like you were a Goddess.

“Answer me, baby.” You didn't know where all of this was coming from, but you needed to hear how affected he was, needed to hear him fall apart at your touch. You started applying more pressure onto him, moving your finger upward as far as you could reach, circling the base of the talon sitting on top of his wing, humming when a shudder ran through him. “Come on, use your words.”

The feared general's gaze meets yours when you begin slowing down, a pleading look in his heavy lidded hazel eyes, hair stuck to his forehead as sweat covers his skin, making him glow under the light - truly a mesmerizing sight. It was almost unbelievable that you had managed to reduce this hulking male, easily over twice your size, to begging.

“All yours, I'm all yours,” he manages between pants and whimpers, “don't stop, please.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, not when you're doing so good for me,” you promise, leaning down to drop a kiss over his delicate wing, tracing a thin piece of cartilage with your tongue as best as you could given the awkward angle.

“Fuck, I'm so close,” he whimpers out, his entire body trembling under you. “Please.”

His choked groans and mewls echoed around the room, as did the squelching sounds your sopping cunt made with every thrust of his hips. Gods, you don't remember the last time you had been this wet, and he hadn't even truly touched you.

If it weren't for the entrancing picture he painted as he let out whimpers of your name, trembling at every little touch of your fingers and tongue, you might have given in to his begging earlier and let him fuck you. Your cunt kept clenching around nothing at the feeling of his throbbing cock, knowing how well he stretched you out, but this wasn't about you.

“Let it all out.” Allowing him to take control of his thrusts, grinding into you at a maddening pace, you keep stroking the talon as if it were the head of his cock, thumbing at the tip and running down to where it met the membrane covering his wings, still licking and sucking at the leathery texture, pleasure spreading through your body at the effect you had on him and the way his thick cock kept rubbing against your clit. “Wanna watch you cum for me.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, lips brushing the leathery membrane as you did, he's letting go just like you asked, cumming with a loud call of your name, wings shaking so much that you're forced to pull your mouth away, just in time to see the way he lets out rope after rope of cum all over his torso, head thrown back over the mattress, leaving the column of his neck on full display.

Your hand only abandons his wing when his cock is spent and his hips stop moving against yours, biting back a chuckle when he pulls his wings closer to his body and away from your teasing touch immediately. Without anything else to do as he catches his breath, you hold onto his waist, a finger reaching to spread his cum around, making an even bigger mess of him.

Unfortunately for him, an idea pops into your mind as you do, a shiver running up your spine at the thought. It would be such a shame to waste all of this, and you were starting to miss the way he trembled under you, the sweet sounds that pushed past his lips.

“Good boy,” you murmur, sucking your cum covered finger into your mouth. “You came so much for me.”

Cassian opens his eyes at last, watching you suspiciously. He knew you better than anyone after all, and as you smirked up at him he knew you were far from being done. Lifting yourself off him, you scooch back until you're laying between his legs, ignoring the questioning calls of your name as you lean down and lick a stripe over his still half hard cock, cooing at the way it twitches under your tongue and the whimper he lets out.

“You let out all of this for me so it's only fair I clean it up, right?”

[tayraedoll]

Old Man

Part 2 Part 3

You keep teasing Alastor due to his age, he is about to show you how his age just makes him more experienced.

TW: Swearing, drinking, vomit, blackouts, suggestive themes, old-fashioned chivalry, drunk kissing

No smut, but is very suggestive at the end.

You slam the door to the hotel angrily behind you, causing the door to shutter in a way that would have worried you about breaking it if you had it in you to give a fuck.

"Fucking prick...who the hell does he think he is?!", you mutter under your breath

You run your hand through your chestnut hair. Your demon form was that of a fallow deer, your hair turned a reddish brown color with ears to match on your head. You had little white spots adorning your cheeks, shoulders, and back. The last of your demonic changes would be your luscious deer tail- the same color as your hair with the spots peppered over it- so full that you needed to get all your clothes altered for it.

You make your way over to the bar- where you a hoping the man who instigated your wrath sits- stomping your feed unnecessarily hard on the wood flooring. Just as you were hoping for, the man you most wanted to pick-a-bone with sat in his usual spot.

"Angel!"

"Toots? Back from y'er date already huh?"

"You are sooooo not allowed to set me up on anymore dates! That guy was an absolute menace!", you slump into the seat next to his with an exaggerated sigh. Husk promptly placed your favorite drink in front of you. You smiled and lifted your glass to him in thanks.

"Jeez, 'm sorry toots. I gotta ask- what'd Mikey do that pissed ya off so bad?"

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying not to picture your atrocious dinner date. "He ordered my dinner for me.", you spat as if it was the most egregious wrong ever done to you.

Angel and Husk stared at you with unreadable expressions, glancing at each other before quickly diverting their eyes back to you.

Maniacal laughter suddenly rang out from the other side of the bar- Alastor. You had not even noticed him when you first came in- if he had been there at all. You had a decent relationship with The Radio Demon, you mostly interacted at dinner but had the occasional chat in the library. He seemed to get along better with you than he did most of the other residents-save for Nifty and Charlie- you assumed that was due to being a deer like he was. Herd mentality and all you supposed. Now though, his laughter was grating on your already taut nerves. "Something funny you coot?" Angel's and Husk's eyes widened at your jab- no one had the balls to insult Alastor right to his face like that.

"Yes, very much so Darling. Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps he was just being polite? Ordering a ladies meal used to be the chivalrous thing to do.", he smiled wider at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"OK boomer, was it also 'chivalrous'(you used air quotes with your finger) to order her a salad instead of the wings and fries she wanted? The next man who has the audacity to order my food for me will become my meal instead!" You huffed and downed the rest of your drink, glaring over at your fellow deer.

He chuckled smoothly but relented his argument "No, I suppose you are right- that was not the proper way to go about it." You gave him a cocky smile before he continued "However, I must say that you...younger generation of ladies... give up so quickly. Running at the very first small inconvenience." He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, eyeing you mischievously.

"Well, SOOOORRRYY for having standards. Us younger generation ladies are not impressed by minimal effort and do not abide by the misogynist tendencies you old geezers put out", you laced your voice with as much venom as you could. "Mikey can take his Terry Crews in White Chicks vibes and fuck right off!"

Alastor eyed you thoughtfully,"Would you care to join me for a night out on the town my dear? Perhaps having a bit of fun will lighten your mood."

Now it was your turn to laugh,"Sorry gramps, but I fail to see how chaperoning you for your daily nightcap will lift my spirits."

"Hmmm, I suppose I will just need to show you how The Lost Generation cuts loose. Get dressed in something you can move in Darling." He was challenging you, you could see it in that smug grin on his face. Who were you to not indulge the old man?

"Give me 15 minutes.", you smirked at him and raced upstairs to your room. You have been saving a lacy, black party dress for a special occasion, now seemed like the perfect time to break it out of your closet. You would pair it with a pair of blood red pumps for a pop of color, wearing lipstick of the same shade to bring it all together.

You swagger down the stairs to meet up with Alastor at the front door. His smile widens ever so slightly as his eyes apprise you. "You look lovely Sha.", he says sweetly as he takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles tenderly. "Shall we?" He tucks your arm through his and guides you out the door.

You walk in silence for a time, Alastor humming softly to himself. You finally speak up "So, what old saloon are you taking me to?", you smile coyly up at him hoping to ruffle his feathers a bit.

"We are headed to my favorite jazz club Little Fawn", he snickers at your scowl. You hated when he called you that, it was because of your spots. But you were just a different breed of dear- you weren't a fawn! The nickname made you feel like a child. You spent the rest of the walk in silence again- Alastor resumed his humming while you pouted.

The outside of the club was inconspicuous, an old building made of brick and wood with no windows. Just a large, metal door at the center. Upon your arrival a small eyelet slid over to inspect you two, The eyes on the other side widened upon seeing Alastor and hastily opened the door. Once inside, you walked down a short hallway and through another metal door.

The inside of the club was a vast contrast to what the outside was like. It was lively, bodies dancing every which direction and a live band played passionately on stage on the far side. The room was decorated in vibrant reds and golds. A long, wooden bar sat to your left. You could smell the tang of bourbon and puffs of smoke, getting a hint of sweat from all the bodies swinging around on the dance floor.

"Shall I order you a drink? Or would you prefer to do that yourself? I wouldn't want to insult you.", Alastor chortled as he walked you over to the bar. You rolled your eyes at him "What are you drinking?" He raised a brow at you. "I am drinking rye whiskey. I am not sure if that will be to your tastes Fawn."

"Hey, I'm sure I can handle anything you dish out Flapdoodle. I bet I can go drink for drink with you even.", you challenged. Maybe you could wipe that ever-present smirk off his smug face if you could get the old man to pass out. You could handle a couple of whiskey drinks.

Alastor hummed as he regarded you, "Very well, if you insist!", he turned to the bartender "Double rye on the rocks please!" You blanched, double? You were not expecting to be drinking doubles, but if Alastor could handle them then you had a good chance right? You took a sip of your drink, it tasted of spice and dark chocolate and had a pleasant burn on its way down your throat. You were sure if you sipped it you would be fine.

However, Alastor had other plans as he swallowed the entire contents of his drink in one go. Your mouth fell open in shock as you stared at him. Fuck, this isn't going the way you planned. Timidly, you brought your own drink to your lips and swallowed the rest of it, shuddering at the burn. Alastor watched you all the while, and promptly ordered two more drinks. This drink was sipped, but was still drank much faster than you planned.

After a while you started to feel the effects of the alcohol, your body relaxing. You started to sway to the music, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor my dear?", Alastor asked as he took your hand, leading you out to the middle of the dancing crowd.

He placed your left hand on his shoulder, keeping your other hand held in his. His free hand held you closely by the waist and he began to swing you around to the beat. You stumbled along, if he weren't holding you so securely you would have ended up on the floor and the alcohol was not doing you any favors. "Oh dear, you a very bad at this!", he teased you. You glared back up at him "Well maybe if you would slow down instead of throwing me around like a lunatic I would be better!", you snapped. He chuckled, but slowed down enough that you could keep up and learn the dance. But once you seemed to get your bearings he sped up again.

This continued all night- the song would change and he would slow down so you could learn the new dance but speed up once you got it. All the while, the only thing you had to drink was whiskey. It did not take long for you to be truly drunk, your vision starting to spin and your movements becoming clumsy. Your legs were killing you, you had definitely worn the wrong shoes for this activity.

"Please excuse me for a second.", you smiled up at Alastor and walked off the dance floor. You exited out a back door you saw people use to take smoke breaks to get some fresh air. You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes to help concentrate on breathing evenly. You heard the door open beside you but chose to ignore it until you felt a hand on your cheek. You opened your eyes to see Alastor standing over you, his eyes carefully scanning your face. "You truly are as beautiful as a magnolia in May.", he stated before slowly lowering his face to yours.

You gasped into the kiss, losing all train of thought. Weren't you supposed to be rivals? The new vs. the old? In this moment, you no longer cared. He continued holding your face as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket as the kiss continued, it was making you dizzy.

Oh no, you are not just dizzy from the kiss- the alcohol is making it worse. Your stomach started to twist uncomfortably and you had to roughly push Alastor away from you before you turned to the wall and puked your guts up all over yourself. When you were done you stumbled back, vision quickly fading. The last thing you remember before succumbing to complete darkness is a pair of strong arms catching you and the warmth of a chest cradling you.

You reached consciousness slowly, your senses coming to you one-by-one. Unfortunately, the first thing you registered was extreme thirst followed quickly by a pounding headache. You let out a loud groan, turning over in your bed "Fuck" you grumbled out.

A soft chuckle followed by an all-too-chipper "Good morning!" caught your attention. You glared at Alastor over in a chair before mumbling "I am not in the mood for your bullshit this morning.", burying your face in the pillow.

It took you an embarrassing few seconds to register that he was actually in the room with you and was not just a figment of your imagination sent to torture you. You shot up in the bed, making your head spin again. "What are you doing in my...", you trailed off as you took in your surroundings. You were not in your room. The bed you were in was large, with maroon-colored silk sheets. The room had crimson-colored walls with a grand fireplace, in front of which Alastor sat reading the paper. Behind him, the room gave way to a magnificent forest and swamp that made your breath hitch. You were obviously in Alastor's room.

"Al...what am I doing in your room?", you asked as you slowly looked back over at him, heart ready to beat out of your chest in fear of his answer.

"I did not feel comfortable leaving you alone in your room. You were incredibly drunk, I did not want you to asphyxiate if you were to become ill again. So I brought you here where I could keep an eye on you.", he explained calmly, watching your reaction. Your face burned with shame. You had set out to get The Radio Demon to make a fool of himself, but you had become the fool yourself. You turned away, not wanting to see the amusement that surely danced plainly on his face. When you glanced down you frowned.

"How am I wearing my pajamas?", you asked- the accusation plain to hear in your voice. When you glanced back up, Alastor had walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. "Well, I was not about to let your spew into my bed. So I sent my shadows to your room to retrieve your sleepwear.", he explained matter-of-factly.

"Did they change me too or...?"

"No, I did that.", before you could get upset at that revelation he snapped his fingers and you were suddenly wearing socks. You breathed a sigh of relief, you did not think Alastor would violate your privacy like that but it was nice to have the verification. As you sat there thinking, memories of the night before slowly trickled back into your mind. Alastor had kissed you! But why?

Before you could ask any of the million questions running through your mind he sat at the end of the bed. "Sha, I would like to have a rather important discussion with you if you feel up to it." You nodded and waited for him to continue. "Would you be open to me courting you?"

You stared at him dumbstruck "Huh?" was all you could muster out. Was this really happening? Did Alastor just ask to date you?

"I have been admiring you from afar for some time now. I must admit I am rather taken by you. I enjoy our back-and-forth banter and admire your wit. You are such a strong-minded woman, and are not afraid to speak exactly what you are thinking. I would like the opportunity to explore our relationship a bit further if you assent."

Your jaw hit the floor, you had no idea how to respond. Alastor admired you? He wanted to have a more formal relationship? None of this was making sense to you at the moment but your heart was soaring. You had been hiding your attraction to the demon behind your crude jokes about his age. You'd be lying if you said you would not want to get to know him better as well.

"It is rude to stare Dear.", Alastor grinned at you. You had not stopped gaping at him while you processed your thoughts. "Y-Yes, I would be open to that." You shyly smiled back at him.

"One more thing, how much about your biology do you know?", he asked as he shifted closer to you, closing the distance between you two. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in just a few months the cervid mating season will be upon us.", he explained slowly. You crinkled your brows in confusion. "You arrived in hell very shortly after the last mating season. I was not sure how much about your deer form you had learned. If you find our courting satisfactory...I would very much like to claim you this season." He stared at you intently, searching your eyes for your reaction. He was leaning so far into your space that only a few inches separated you. His want was practically palpable.

Your mind went blank again, at a complete loss for words for the moment. This man was just full of surprises. You felt a myriad of emotions- excitement, fear, anticipation, nervousness. But you wanted it, so badly that it shocked you. But, you did not want him to get any more satisfaction at your expense today. So you smirked, "Only if you can keep up you old geezer."

With that you went to get up and dramatically walk out of the room to leave him with his thoughts. But instead you felt your calf muscles strain and knees buckle underneath you. Your legs were so cramped up, damn shoes! Alastor laughed heartily at you as you flushed tomato red. "You are not quite as limber as you ought to be for your age My Doe. Your endurance could use a bit of work.", he tutted at you helping you to your feet. You stretched your sore legs out a bit until you could at least shuffle around.

Before you could turn away Alastor grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. "A final tidbit of information- did you know that deer can mate consecutively for 72 hours?", he watched as your eyes widened to saucers, leaning in until his lips just barely caressed the fluff of your ears. "If I were you Ma Petite Biche (My Little Doe), I'd begin stretching."