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amathslutsguidetofandom · 2 months

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This is what I think living with Beefy!Bucky would look like:

THERE ARE TWO PARTS, SFW AND NSFW (please read the warnings before you start reading, and lemme know if I missed anything!)

Warnings: allusions towards sex, allusions towards unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spitting on v and Beefy!Bucky being hot (yes that's a warning). Please feel free to DM me if I missed anything :) SFW:

Bucky would walk around only in sweatpants (of your choice, obvi🤭). His muscular chest and back are on display 24/7, and he'll only wear a Henley (you bought one in every colour for his birthday) during the winter.

You would only wear either one of his T-shirts or Henleys around, with a pair of underwear and that's it.

Ya'll cook dinner together every night. Bucky bought an old record player so, he could play all the old records you got him for Christmas. And while dinner is cooking, he'll pull you to the side by your waist then slow dance with you to either Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra.

"C'mon, doll. The rice is not going to get burnt. It's jus' one dance. F'me?" He smiles, as he pulls you in by your waist. You smile at your man begrudgingly, and place your palms on his bare chest, "fine. But just one song." You say in your playfully stern voice. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your hairline, "anything for you, doll."

You sweep and dust, Bucky mops and vacuums.

He'll let you get any household accessory for ya'll's apartment, whether it be a trinket, a fake cactus, or a picture frame.

"Are you sure?" You ask, holding onto the snow globe with a little glass dachshund inside of it. Bucky laughs and rubs your back, "s'fine doll, I think it'll look great next to the record player," he gives in to your want to buy the snow globe. You squealed when you first saw it, and Bucky knew he had to get it immediately.

You'll be singing a song with headphones on, making some coffee in the kitchen, and just dancing wildly. And Bucky would just lean against the wall of the hallway, just staring at you lovingly.

Laundry day is actually fun, you would fold the cleaned and dried linen and clothes. While Bucky would put them back in their drawers and shelves (using his astonishingly tall height).

NSFW(alright here we go):

If you're bending over the counter to wipe a specific mark that won't go away, Bucky won't be able to hold himself back.

You bite your lip in concentration and scrub at the mark with a wet sponge, but it doesn't go away. Suddenly, you feel two large hands grab at your hips and pull you back. "Fuck me, doll. You can't do that," he growls into your ear, slowly shoving your underwear aside. You giggle and ask what does he mean. "You can't be bent over the counter and then not expect me to fuck you," he shoves his own sweatpants down. You roll your eyes, as you feel the tip of him at your entrance. "Bucky," you whine, slightly pushing your hips back in his direction. "Yes, sweetheart?" he smirks, pressing his lips against your neck. "Buck, I need you," you softly moan and throw your head back against his shoulder. "Oh I know baby, me too," he whispers in her ear.

When he comes home after a long day, and hear's you in the shower, he will not hesitate to jump in with you.

He drags himself to your shared bathroom and hears the creaky pipes of your shower being used. He smiles and walks into the bathroom. You smile when you see him, "Hey, love. How was your day?" He smiles as he starts undressing before hopping in the shower with you, "better now that I'm here with you." He kisses you passionately before pushing you up against the wall, he slightly bends and grabs the back of your thighs. "Jump" is the only word he growls against your lips. You giggle and jump slightly, and your legs are wrapped around his waist as he uses his godly strength to hold you up against the wall. You moan, as you feel him rub his tip on your sensitive button. "Bucky, baby, please," you whine as you grip onto his broad shoulders. "Oh doll, you don't have to beg me. I going to fuck you either way."

Morning sex is an everyday thing that happens at y'all's apartment. He'll either wake you up to the scene of him in between your thighs. OR. He'll wake you up with his cock inside of you. Either way, you're not complaining.

You stir at the tingly feeling between your thighs, and you open your eyes groggily to see Buck (and his beefiness) wrapping your thighs around his head. He winks and smirks at you, "mornin', doll." He licks a thick strip up your slit, and you arch your back at the sudden sensation, "ah! Bucky!" Bucky continues to swivel his tongue over your clit, knowing how much you love it. Your moans slowly get louder, as Bucky soon pokes at your hole with his thick fingers. Soon you're wailing in pleasure, and grabbing at Bucky's hair begging him to make you come. "Come f'me, princess," he says before spiting harshly on your pussy.

🎀🎀🎀

Please lemme know what you think, this is my first piece of work 😊.

If you have any feedback, feel free to DM me.

Thank you for reading lovelies!!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #mcu bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes and reader

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superblysubpar · 1 year

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Dad Steve Options

- dad steve wants to/asks to baby wear his little infant girl and it's just about the fuckin most adorable thing. Maybe he goes out on the town doing something domesticated with her strapped to his chest. 🫠

- his kiddo (boy or girl) plays basketball and he's all mushy proud dad at their first game (esp bc he knows what it's like to play with no one in the stands) 🏀

- dad Steve has a daughter and she asks him to her schools father daughter dance 🤵

- dad Steve gets heart eyes at you just after you give birth and are a trash mess in the hospital (and/or other first time mom things that are otherwise not glamorous but he's just so amazed. 🤱

dad!steve harrington x mom!fem! reader

a How Sweet It Is story

Summary: It's hard to stay mad at Steve when he's just being a good husband and dad | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

Warnings: reader is pregnant

3.6k words

Winter, 1996:

The house was in chaos, but what else is new?

Steve can't even keep track of what day of the week it is, so it was a very real possibility (or entirely one hundred percent a fact) that he forgot to change the wet clothes from the washing machine into the dryer last night.

Normally, not a big deal - he'd rewash it or he'd smell test and toss it in the dryer anyways. However, this load was important because it had the basketball jersey in it.

The basketball jersey his daughter is supposed to wear in less than a half hour for her game.

"Dad! Where's my jersey? You said you washed it right?"

The basketball jersey said daughter is screaming down the hall for.

"Oh shit," he whispers before realizing the little lady who barely comes up to his hip is standing next to him as he carefully pulls another daughter from her crib.

The noise of her sucking in a deep breath alerts him of her presence. Watching out of the corner of his eyes as she rocks back on her heels and chirps out happily, repeating it back to him, "Oh, shit!"

He spins to face her quickly, hand on the back of the sleeping one year old cradled against his chest, "No, no, no Liv, baby don't-"

"Shit!" She laughs as she repeats it again, happy to have her dad’s attention on her.

"Dad!" Nora shrieks down the hall and he groans.

When did the "dy" get removed? Why don't fathers get notified? Have ample time to prepare from being called Daddy lovingly by their baby girl to Dad like they’re public enemy number one suddenly.

He calls out, squeezing his eyes shut, "Nora, sweetie I forgot-"

"Folded on the counter in the bathroom!" your voice echoes up the stairs, interrupting the meltdown that was about to occur. You are a saint and his shoulders fall down with relief as Nora shouts back a thank you - much too loud, but he’ll take the win.

He watches Liv untangle her braids absentmindedly and she sings "Shit!" again as they walk out into the hall.

Grace gasps from the bottom of the stairs, "Mommy! Liv said shit!"

"Grace, don't repe-"

"She what?"

Steve groans again, his permanent state lately, as he makes his way down the stairs one at a time, his jeans in the firm grasp of his three year old as she takes her time. Julie stirs in his arms, that furrow of her eyebrows deepening and tiny fists forming from all the yelling.

God, please don’t wake up and start screaming. Steve pleads down the stairs with the one who can maybe understand him, "Grace, baby, she doesn't know it's a bad word yet okay? She doesn't-"

"Shit!" Liv hops off the stairs from the second to last one, grinning proudly at you.

Steve closes his eyes and peeks them open as he takes the last step to see you trying not to smile.

"Liv, sweetie, bad word don't repeat," you squat with your arm outstretched for her and groan the whole way down and wince when she slams into you with a giggle.

Steve's nerves on high alert as your face scrunches in pain, "What? What's wrong? Are you okay? What hurts?"

Your laugh is loud as you look up at him, rolling your eyes. You slip on Liv's shoes as Grace uses your shoulder to balance while she gets her own on. Grace manages to trap some of your hair between her fingers as she tugs and he watches you physically fight off the wince that wants to come out as you huff, "Steve, I'm fine. I have a doctor’s appointment nex-”

“Yeah, not till next week. You should stay home and-”

Fury burning in your eyes towards him as you frown, “I’m not missing her game Steve.”

He swallows and nods. He totally understands, it’s the championship game. Nora’s first season. He’d literally have to be bleeding out to miss it, and even then he’d probably fight you on it. But this - you - it’s different.

This pregnancy is so unlike the others already, your symptoms much worse and far quicker than the other four and he felt guilty and more worried than usual. However, the main feeling buzzing through his body is absolutely fear. Your mood towards him has been far more on the ‘you did this to me and I hate you’ side of the spectrum than the ‘wow I can’t believe we’re having another one’ he was normally used to. All of which has him convinced it’s a boy this time. Destined to be a pain in the ass just like his father. Or worse, it could be another daughter, but one who comes out calling him dad immediately with disdain dripping from her lips while she sneaks out of her window to go sleep with-

Nora’s feet slamming on the steps pulls him out of his spiral and he turns, a wide smile pulling at his lips. Decked out in green and orange, bright green glasses to match and her dark brown curls in a ponytail, she beams at him.

He raises his hand and pretends to snap a picture and she poses, sticking her tongue out just like Uncle Eddie and he laughs.

She jumps down the last few steps and as Steve bends to kiss the top of her head, Nora ducks to kiss Julie on the forehead softly. As Steve stands up, brushing a stray baby hair that fell from Nora’s headband, she peers up at him looking like his little girl and an adult all at the same time as she asks, “Ready to watch me kick some Cougar’s butts?”

He laughs and Grace cheers, causing Liv to join in and run around in a circle whooping and tugging on your jeans. Your hand falls to your stomach, not really showing at all yet, but your habit of resting it there from past pregnancies already returning. You smile at your daughters before making eye contact with him, nodding towards the front door with a roll of your eyes, “Well what are we waiting for? Time to go watch the best team in Indiana!”

“Steve, come on, I can just hold her,” you huff as you lean against the car, watching Robin push Grace and Liv on the swings across the parking lot.

“Baby, just-ouch!” buckle pinching his fingers again and he grits through his teeth, “This way we both have free hands,” he grins as it clicks together and he tugs harshly, making sure it’s secure before he motions with his fingers for her to hand over Julie. His youngest, who’s now awake and happily munching on her own hand as she peers at him with big brown eyes.

You smile, kissing the top of her head, not releasing her and looking out the corner of your eye, “You look like such a dork.”

“Ah, but an efficient dork. This way my hands are free for foam fingers and popcorn. Plus it’s practice. What’s gonna happen when it’s park day and we have two that can’t walk and one of us is at work?” he snaps the band over his shoulder with a grin and raises his eyebrows.

You snort and he reaches for Julie, she squirms and shrieks, kicking her legs like it’s a fun game as he tries to place her in the opening. Steve mumbles, “Jules, come on now-”

“Would you like some help?” you ask with your arms crossed, hiding your amusement as he huffs and nods.

Julie reaches for you again as you help tuck her legs in, her back to Steve’s chest. Her shriek breaks his ear drums as you pretend to bite the air around her, chasing her hands and pressing your nose into hers.

Eyes sparkling as you look up at him from under your lashes, hair blowing lightly in the wind Steve was sure if you weren’t already pregnant he’d ask you for another one right then and there.

Snorting, you stand up and raise your eyebrows at him and he feels the heat blooming under his skin as he asks, “What?”

You laugh, pointing an accusing finger in his face that Julie makes quick work to grab onto as you scold, “You’re giving me your baby eyes!”

“I-what?” Damn, you were good. Steve looks up at the sky, hands on his hips, “You’re ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He starts to walk away, turning to reach out his hand, “Look at that,” yours slips into his and he squeezes, kissing the top of Julie’s head, “Another benefit to free hands.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s a fair argument,” you squeeze it back, locking eyes with him as you step closer to the playground. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, “I’m sorry I’ve been so awful lately.”

He stops you, hands reaching up to cup your cheeks and he shakes his head, “Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about you being awful?”

You roll your eyes, leaning into one of his palms and kiss his wrist, ready to protest when Robin interrupts.

“Hey! Lovebirds! If you’re done making googly eyes at each other, I think we have a very important game to get to!”

Steve sighs and you smile, stepping onto your toes to kiss his cheek and letting his hands hover in your absence as you start towards the girls.

Robin hangs back until Steve catches up, yanking his arm harshly, “I cannot believe you.”

“Hi Robin, I missed you too,” Steve rips his arm out of her grip and frowns.

She pokes at him, walking backwards with a hiss, “Did you really get her pregnant again?”

Steve stops, mouth dropping open and Robin groans, “Steve, you’re actually disgusting. Can you not keep it in your pants? I mean, my god, you just had this cutie,” she tickles Julie’s cheeks as she reaches for her and Robin raises her eyebrows, snapping the band of the pack as he had just done, “Dork.”

He rubs at his temple, “Will you -first of all, Y/N hasn’t even been to the doctor yet, so will you just cool it? The girls don’t know and actually, why am I even telling you?!” he throws his hands up, “You probably already know since you have a wire tap into my house or some shit.”

Robin snorts, turning back around, “No Stevie, you’re just very, very…” she flutters her fingers around, eyes scrunching before snapping, “Predictable?”

Annoyed at her use of the nickname and ready to argue with her, he’s interrupted when you turn with both girls' hands in yours to look over your shoulder and you frown. Any sweet moment the two of you just shared over as you scold, “Steve! Did you just tell her?!”

Steve holds up his hands, eyes widening, “No, no, no, I-”

You narrow your eyes and his voice squeaks, “She guessed!” he hits Robin’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “Right? You guessed. Tell her that I didn’t tell you.”

“Ouch,” Robin hisses and then shrugs, enjoying the game, “I don’t know, did I guess Steve? Or did you just confirm a suspicion?”

Steve can see the steam coming out of your ears and Robin winces, hands motioning just like Steve’s, “No really, I did guess. Not his fault. Can I get you a pretzel? How about a Sprite? You look beautiful today, doesn’t she, Steve?”

You roll your eyes and walk away with the girls and Steve’s shoulders slump, and Robin pat his arm, whispering as they trailed in behind you, “What the hell did you do to her?”

He looks at the back of your head and then at Robin and shrugs before whispering, “I don’t know, but I think a mini version of myself is coming out this time.”

Robin shivers, making a gagging noise, “Ew, gross, don’t say-”

“Aunt Robin!” Nora shouts, waving wildly from her spot on the bench.

Robin screams, waving just as frantically and holds up two thumbs before blowing a kiss that Nora jumps up to catch.

As you sit, Liv wastes no time, crawling onto you, her foot digging into your stomach as she maneuvers to a comfy yet restless position and Steve winces, “Baby, why don’t you come sit on Aunt Robin’s lap?”

You frown, “Steve, I’m fine,” but Liv is already crawling across your lap and into Robin’s who takes her arms and waves them and gets her shouting for Nora too. Grace standing on the bleacher next to her, holding up a sign decked out in glitter that’s raining on the people in front of her as she waves it back and forth too quickly.

You’re on your feet suddenly, making your way past him and he grabs your wrist, “Wait, where are you going?”

Glaring at him, you remove your wrist, “To go get a Ginger-ale.”

He starts to stand, “Are you not feeling good? I can get it, you sit and-”

“Steve, I also have to pee, are you going to do that for me too?”

He sits, pulling his cheek in and nods once, “Right. Have fu-good lu-” he closes his eyes and shakes his head and nods again as you leave the stands.

Robin whistles, “Dude, this is bad. I haven’t seen you this frazzled since before you started dating.”

Steve slumps against Robin, forehead to her shoulder, “I don’t know if she’s actually pissed or it’s just the-” his voice drops quieter, “hormones, or-”

Liv spins in her lap and pulls at his cheek and he smiles until she grins back and shouts, “Pissed!”

Grace gasps, “Daddy! Liv just said-”

Steve straightens, finger pointing at her, “I know! Don’t repeat it!” he boops Liv’s nose, “Not a good word. Don’t repeat.”

Liv grins, opening her mouth and before she can say it again, Robin blows a raspberry into her neck, distracting her in perfect time to you climbing the stairs with Dustin and Eddie behind you.

Julie has a hold of his fingers and you smirk, “So much for free hands.”

Dustin stops in front of him, “You look like a mega dork.”

Steve pushes the bill of his hat down, “Takes one to know one.”

Eddie and Dustin plop in the now vacant and completely littered in green and orange glitter spots in front of you and Liv climbs from Robin’s lap onto Eddie’s shoulders. Dangling, her face upside down in front of his, she beams and shouts, “Shit!”

Eddie laughs but quickly covers it up with a cough, “Well, that’s a new word,” he looks over his shoulder at you and grins, “For the record, I was not the one to teach that one to her.” He pulls her forward until she’s balancing a foot on each of their thighs and beaming back at you.

Sighing, you shake your head, “Nope that one was all Steve.”

Liv chooses then to repeat her other new word and Steve hides his face in Julie’s hair. Grace gasps again, “Mommy, did you hear-”

It’s extremely hard to stay mad at Steve Harrington.

Not a new realization, in fact it’s something you’ve been highly aware of since the day you met. One look at his stupidly adoring face and anger just seemed to dissolve from you. So, today was no different of course.

The way he nudged his knee against yours when you returned to the stands, a silent ‘we’re okay, right?’, his sudden jump up when Nora got the ball and he shouted, “Elbow, baby, keep your elbow in!” and his fist pump as the ball swished into the net. The stupid ( and fine, very logical) baby carrier that shouldn’t look good on him but did. The way he handed Julie off to you so he could race down the stairs and catch Nora who jumped into his arms as he spun her shouting something about pizza for everybody.

It was all so incredibly and unfairly endearing. And it’s not like you were actually mad at him. You couldn’t wait to have another baby with him. No, the problem is that once Steve finds out, he’s not going to let you out of bed, out of his sight or allow you to do a single thing for yourself. Because you know that’s how he was with the other four and this will be worse, you just know it.

Having four girls is already a lot of work. His promotion at work and your job keep you both busy aside from being parents. He already insists on doing most of the chores since you work longer hours some nights. But it’s chaotic. Both of you forget loads of laundry, leave dishes in the sink, and you get take out far too many nights because the thought of cooking is too much. What’s going to happen when he finds out? When it’s already chaos and you’re helping, how much worse is it going to get when he refuses to let you do anything?

So, when he insists on getting up at dinner to go get you another slice and go refill the girls drinks and his pizza sits cold and uneaten in front of him you snap, “Steve! Stop it!”

The table falls silent, a thing you actually thought impossible for your family. Even Julie, her pacifier placating her into silence. The arcade game’s dings and whistles are the only sound for what feels like forever before you blow out your breath and push back from the table. Mumbling some sort of an apology and you step outside taking a breath of fresh air.

Though your vision is blurry, you can see through the front windows that they’re all trying and failing to look busy instead of watching you, and Steve is outside and in your space because of course he followed you immediately.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s going on. Hey, come on,” he cradles your cheeks, thumbs brushing over them and wiping your tears as his forehead presses to yours, glasses sliding down his nose.

“So-sorry,” you hiccup, hands tightening on his forearms and squeezing.

“Will you stop apologizing? It’s my fault and I know we talked about it, but maybe you don’t want this fifth one and-”

“Steve, please stop. You have to…” you take a step away from him and wipe at your cheeks and cross your arms, “I need you to listen. Really listen. Let me get it all out before you go into overprotective hero mode okay?”

He grimaces, “That is not making me feel better, babe.” His shoulders relax at your raised eyebrows and he nods, leaning against the window, raising his right hand with a small smile, “I promise, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you start pacing in front of him, “I love you. So much. And I love our family. It’s chaos, but it’s our chaos, you know? And, seriously, I love you, but you have to let me do things for myself and trust that I know my body and my limits because, Steve,” your hands are in your hair as your eyes stay focused on the sidewalk, “It’s already hard to stay on top of stuff when I do help. So I need to hear you say it.”

He straightens, eyebrows furrowed and you reach forward on instinct to soften the wrinkles with your fingers just like you do for the girls as he asks, “Say what?”

“That you promise to let me help. That unless I ask for help or to not do something, that I can…” you wave your hands around, “That I can go get my own slice of pizza. That we both help with the girls, that-”

He nods, hands finding yours, “Okay, I promise.”

He leans in to kiss you, nose pressing into your cheek and lips hovering over yours as you sigh, “Thank you, but there’s one more thing?”

His lips twitch up on one side, “Yeah? Do I need to start using a swear jar?”

Blowing out your breath in a shaky laugh, you watch his eyes carefully as you whisper, “Remember how you said you wanted six kids?”

He smiles against your lips, not fully listening you’re sure, since this is the closest you’ve been in weeks but he nods. Swallowing and licking his lips as he presses closer to you.

“Well, uh, about that,” his hands find your cheeks as you push through it, “We’re having twins.”

Steve’s thumbs freeze, his shoulders tense and his gulp is audible, “Wh-what?”

You shrug, biting your lip as your vision turns blurry from more tears, “Surprise?”

His arms move around your waist and before you can say anything else he’s holding you up, your toes barely touching the ground as he laughs through his own tears and kisses you. Breathless and kissing all over your face as he spins you around and the door opens, the girls running out, Julie in Nora’s arms and Grace holding Liv’s hand.

Nora cocks her head to the side, a mirror image of Steve as she frowns, “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

Steve’s behind you, head pressed into your neck as you laugh and wipe at your eyes, holding up two fingers, “Well, mom’s having two babies!”

Shouting and running around in circles and kisses on every cheek you can find as they all celebrate loudly and are filled with too much energy for such small bodies. Steve doesn’t remove his arms from around your waist, squeezing you lightly and laughing into your shoulder as Liv yells, “Shit!” again.

It’s chaos. But what else is new?

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

#steve harrington #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington fluff

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nevernonline · 8 months

Text

✧.* svt hiphop unit as seasons:

synopsis: seventeen hip hop unit as the seasons

warning/s: mentions of kissing

genre/s: svt! hhu x reader, fluff.

note/s: nothing rlly, have a good weekend besties. luv u.

seungcheol:

fall. the cozy warm nights sharing a blanket under the stars, roasting (burning) marshmallows, kissing with the taste of s'mores still lingering on your tongue. the sound of crunching leaves underfoot as you ran through the park eager to grab cider from your favorite cafe. cloudy morning skies waking up next to the person of your dreams as you make him breakfast in bed and stare out your window onlooking the fall trees changing color, a metamorphosis reminding you of the future with him. every time that fall came it would prompt you to remember the time you, much like the leaves, fell in love.

wonwoo:

winter. seeing your breath in the air as you laugh, while bundled up to go build a snowman. the way his glasses fogged as he breathed into his scarf, clearly braving the cold to make you happy, you always wiped them off with your mittens, as you planted a warm kiss on his pink lips, turning them the color of strawberries. seeking shelter with him inside your cozy home, drinking hot chocolate, and holding each other under the blanket while you read a book out loud. you loved the way the color came back to his cheeks when he warmed back up from holding you inside of your jacket. you reminded him of snowflakes coming down from the sky. different, but uniquely your own.

mingyu:

summer. sun kissed skin throwing you over his shoulder and throwing you off the dock into the water. the cabin you rented being too small for his large frame but perfect to keep the two of you sheltered from mosquito bites. fresh squeezed lemonade, tart with the sweet aftertaste. music playing while you kiss under the stars, resting in the long grass. summer nights filled with fireflies and childlike wonder as you sit watching the calm lake that you were swimming in hours before. fireworks bursting through the night sky, an electric show, much like the feeling you get looking over at him, sparks.

vernon:

spring. flowers blooming, the trees regaining their green, the sound of sining birds whispering in your ear while you sit on a picnic blanket. holding hands as you walk down a path of cherry blossom trees, watching all the couples taking photos. kids and their families running around the park excited to take in the spring air. sprinting through the sudden rain storm and finding a small cove to hideout in as it pours, but he grabs your hand as you continue running in the direction of your home never missing the chance to dance in the rain with you. carrying you inside and running a warm bubble bath that smells of lavender so you don't catch a cold. finishing your night by placing a new batch of freshly bloomed flowers on your coffee table, lighting a candle, and holding him while watching a movie.

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miss-choi-park · 4 months

Text

Sin never tasted so...

Chapter 1 - Fate is a bastard

A TXT Yeonjun Fanfiction from Mrs. Choi-Park

CEO/non-idol/dom/bully!Yeonjun! / Confident/sub/named/fem!Reader!

No obstacle - made of stone - stops love, what love can do, it dares to do. - pretty cheesy, right?

Romeo and Juliet, literature that can only be endured through modern language and films, nowadays. We all know the plot.

~A boy and a girl, madly in love with each other but the tragic circumstances of the family dispute kill both of them in the end.

The "most beautiful" love story in the world...if you don't experience it yourself. Fate is sometimes an ice-cold bastard.

Warnings under the cut

Warnings: rough language, hate speech, bullying, sex language, they kinda hate each other, caring yeonjun

Please remember that I fully respect the privacy of all K-Pop Idols and that this is just a fantasy. It's not my intention to harm anyone! (I've been a MOA since March 2023)

The hot whirlpool was just right thing for my muscles, which were pretty acidic from two days of skiing.

I still had four days ahead of my parents and my winter sports trip. And even though skiing was my favorite sport after hip-hop dancing, it was pretty tiring. My parents and I also received an unpleasant surprise yesterday.

The 5-star sports hotel high in the Pyeongchang Mountains has also attracted another rich Korean family from Seoul.

Why did the Choi's - my father's chosen mortal enemies - have to have a vacation in the same hotel as us in the same week as us?!

Ever since I was little, my parents always instilled in me that the Choi's were truly the spawn of hell.

It wasn't until I was 13 years old that I really found out why our family's didn't get along at all.

My parents, who had moved from Germany to Korea four years before I was born, had started with a small bookstore, which developed into a publishing house for small authors and later into the second largest publishing house in South Korea. My parents have always hated the Choi's, who put obstacles in their way, even now they were holding back our really great success.

The Choi's owned the number one publishing house in Korea, which had also been producing Manhwa's for several years now. (Counterpart to Japanese anime)

Because of this family, my parents struggled with racism, failure and stagnation. We had to deal with copyright lawsuits again and again - fights that emptied our Bank account and were never really justified. We also couldn't follow up with the manhwa's because it was forbidden to us. The old Choi was "a big animal in the world of Politics," as he always said. And even though my parents had come a long way...we had to constantly look into our pockets while the Choi's lived in luxury.

The 5-star holiday was the first in 6 years. Before that we either couldn't go on a skiing holiday or we could only go to a 3-4 star hotel. That's why I wanted to enjoy the whirlpool now and do not think of anything bad, who knows when I'll have that again.

For two minutes I enjoyed the flow of water and the bubbles massaging my back.

Until~

"Oh no, that can't be possible! I wanted to go into that hot tub, potato!" I heard a voice. It didn't take a split second before I recognized the voice. The unpleasant nickname, only one person used it for me, was the final hint.

I opened my eyes and lifted my head, which I had rested on the edge of the hot tub.

Choi Yeonjun.

As expected.

The 24-year-old son of the family I had grown to hate.

Yeonjun stood on the stairs that led up to the hot tub where I was relaxing. I rolled my eyes, not giving him a second glance after dropping my head back down again.

He wasn't worth saying anything back.

"Come on out, I want to relax!" he grumbled. Without saying anything, I raised my hand out of the water with my middle finger held up.

There was silence for a moment. Before I was about to look up to see if he had disappeared, I heard an angry murmur. Then noises coming from the water. I raised my head again and actually saw Yeonjun across from me climbing into the large whirlpool.

"Fuck! What are you doing?!" I threw it at his head and Yeonjun looked up. His look more than disgusted as he lowered himself.

"Maybe I can get you out of here when I'm in." Yeonjun's arm swirled through the water in front of him as his gaze followed his movement. I saw him grin evilly, "Cool, through the whirlpool bubbles, you can't even tell that I've just made bubbles."

As his gaze climbed up to me, I understood what he meant and jumped up immediately. I had 100% confidence that he had just farted in here. So I rushed out of the water, exclaiming in disgust: "You really are the stupidest creep I've ever met!"

Yeonjun laughed as I tied my towel around myself, crawled into my flip flops and rushed away.

Stupid asshole! Why did I have to bother with something like that? Life could be so beautiful.

Even at school he was the biggest idiot I knew, who made every day there a living hell until he finally graduated and I could enjoy four years without him.

Stupid private comprehensive school from the first to the eighth grade we were in one school. Luckily he was always four steps above me, but I was always afraid the stupid idiot would repeat a year and we will sit together in a class at some point. Surprisingly this never happened.

He ruined everything. My school days, my school dance club - which he also signed up for after I signed up - the success of my family and so much more.

I really hated Yeonjun.

He was a brat, idiot, know-it-all and disgusting. I had asked my fate several times 'Why him? Why do I have to know someone like that?' ~ I would never have received an answer.

I really hoped he wouldn't come to the little party in the mountain hut by the ski slopes this evening. Hopefully he wasn't in the hut today where there were a thousand posters saying that today was a Party. Because as far as I knew Yeonjun, he took every party with him and always a slut from there who fell for his tricks and then was dropped by him afterwards.

Asshole!

I didn't want to spend any longer in the hotel's swimming area so I went to my room.

The smarter one always gives in, right?

Hope dies last, but eventually it dies too.

For me the time had come when the door of the cozy mountain hut opened and Yeonjun entered.

From my seat at the bar I could see the door perfectly and everyone who entered could also see me. Unfortunately, our eyes met immediately. I exhaled in frustration and rolled my eyes. The nice young man named Danwoo, who I had already met on the ski slopes yesterday, looked at me in surprise.

"What's up?" He asked over the loud music in the bar as I looked deep into my cocktail glass, hoping Yeonjun would just ignore me.

"Nothing…I"

"Heyjo Sumi!" A loud voice shouted at us.

Oh, please don't! Why me?!

While Danwoo turned in the direction the voice had come from, I drank my cocktail, which was actually quite strong, in one go.

When I put my glass back down, I was immediately greeted by Yeonjun's sharp eyes. He had stopped close to Danwoo and leaned on the counter so he could look at me.

"I thought you didn't like parties, sweetie." He greeted me.

I gave him a dark look.

"First of all, don't call me sweetie, second of all, I don't like parties when you're around and third, fuck off!" I replied.

Unfortunately, I knew that Yeonjun wouldn't be shaken off so easily.

Yeonjun gave a half-hearted laugh and raised his eyebrows: “That’s bad, I wasn’t planning on going.”

"Excuse me...may I ask who you are?" Danwoo interrupted our conversation and I clenched my teeth so hard that my jaw hurt as Yeonjun looked disparagingly at my acquaintance.

"The question would be mine first." He replied to Danwoo, who seemed a little taken aback.

"Yeonjun! Just shut up and leave!" I protested, causing his gaze to turn back to me. His bored look turned into a wickedly amused grin.

He rested his head on his hand: "Why so pissed off, little one? Your problem if you're always looking for someone who can't satisfy you."

A fire burned inside me. I immediately jumped up from my chair, wanting to choke Yeonjun with the small silver chain that hung around his neck.

I walked up to him and held my finger close to his nose: "I'd like you to-"

Before I could even continue speaking, I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back and away from Yeonjun faster than I expected.

It turned out to be Danwoo who pulled me through the dancing crowd, out of Yeonjun's sight. When we finally got to the corner where sofas were, he looked at me a little surprised: "Who was that?"

I looked at Danwoo for a few seconds before I glanced over my shoulder and was relieved to see that Yeonjun didn't seem to have followed us.

"Oh, that was nobody. I've called him my problem my whole life...please don't worry about him, he's just an asshole." I said and Danwoo's facial expressions relaxed a bit.

"Why is he here?"

"I would like to know that too, believe me, fate is just not kind to me."

"Then let's get out of his way."

"Deal!"

Surprisingly, I didn't even see a trace of Yeonjun in the hut for the next 2 hours. He had probably already grabbed the next poor girl and was fucking her somewhere.

I didn't care. Danwoo was so generous in ordering me a ton of alcohol that I didn't even think about Yeonjun. Until Danwoo went to the toilet around 2am, I took a short break from dancing and sank onto the couch in the back compartment of the mountain hut.

The party was surprisingly well attended, the songs were first class and the atmosphere was electric. I was happy to have met Danwoo because I would never go to a party like this alone.

My vision was still clear, but I noticed that my mood was getting significantly better with every second. I also started some conversations with complete strangers on the dance floor. Well, my inhibitions were long overcome.

"Where did you leave your boyfriend?" Someone asked me. I looked to my right where a bad awakening awaited me.

Yeonjun.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I asked, horrified. My good mood immediately disappeared.

"I was sitting here the whole time." He grumbled, taking a sip from his beer bottle that had been resting between his legs.

I stood up immediately.

I thought Yeonjun had already left the party, what was he doing here all of a sudden?!

I stood up immediately.

"Hey, wait! I asked you something!" He protested as I tried walking away. I ignored him and tried to escape through the dancing crowd. Unfortunately, this turned out to be difficult, thanks to the somewhat chubby man in front of me.

"Hey!" I heard Yeonjun say, shortly afterwards a surprisingly warm hand on my forearm. I was spun around and to make matters worse, lost my balance due to my drunkenness.

The next moment I found myself on the floor, between Yeonjun's legs. When I glanced up at him he seemed confused, but this was quickly replaced by a broad smile.

"Oh what did I do to deserve this honor?" He asked and I furrowed my eyebrows.

But before I could get up, Yeonjun leaned forward, his face now close to mine.

"Will you answer my question now?" He asked. The smell of beer could be clearly smelled from his breath. But my breathing probably wasn't any better.

"Why? Jealous?"

"Pfft!" with that amused sound, Yeonjun leaned back and I took the chance to get up.

"Why should I be jealous? You should be." He said and I looked down at him confused.

"What does that mean again?!" I wanted to know and Yeonjun shrugged indifferently.

"I thought I saw your guy disappearing into a cubicle in the toilet with someone earlier." He explained himself and I raised an eyebrow.

"God! How much have you drunk?"

"3 beers and a soju shot. I know what I saw.", He murmured before taking another sip from his bottle, "Think about it, how long has he been gone now?"

Oh my god...he wasn't entirely wrong. Danwoo had probably been gone for a little longer than 15 minutes. I bit my bottom lip, rather unconsciously, as I looked over my shoulder at the toilet entrance.

Well maybe the queue was long…

"Come!" Yeonjun said in a firm voice and walked past me. More successful than me, he made his way through the dancing crowd. I was left a little surprised. It was Yeonjun we were talking about here...he probably just wanted to convince me of something again. Lies were his specialty.

"What's wrong now, potato?" Yeonjun shouted, just loud enough for me to hear him over the music. I bit my lip again before hesitantly moving forward. I trotted after Yeonjun through the crowd. We got to the toilets pretty quickly.

From what I got to know - Danwoo was the complete opposite of Yeonjun. Funny, understanding, decent and attentive...I wouldn't trust him to ever cheat on anyone-

I froze when I saw Danwoo in the doorframe of the men's toilet. A short woman with long black hair stood in front of him, giggling wildly.

"Danwoo?" I immediately forgot it when I saw him and the unknown girl together.

Danwoo turned his head to the side and immediately stood upright. His features looked shocked. Like a little kid who just got caught stealing candy.

"Hey Sumi... uhm it's not what it looks like."

"Oh no! It is exactly what it looks like! What was he like, doll?" Yeonjun joined the conversation, the question obviously directed at the black-haired girl.

So he was right...Yeonjun hadn't lied to me. Then why did I want him to do it?

Contrary to my expectations, my eyes began to burn. A sign of impending tears.

Oh no!

The girl standing in front of Danwoo looked back and forth between me and him, more than surprised, as if she wanted to make sure we both were real.

"What do you want again? I don't even know you." Danwoo said to Yeonjun and I just turned around and ran. I didn't know where my legs would take me, but I just wanted to be somewhere else right now. Somewhere far away.

Why were all boys so shitty? My first boyfriend had already cheated on me...why does it have to happen again?! Why does fate always have to put obstacles in my way?! Why can't I be lucky too?!

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the mountain hut in the freezing cold winter when the first tear finally ran down my cheek.

The cold wind that blew over my arms, which were only covered with a thin sweater, gave me goosebumps. But I was less interested in that right now. I folded my arms and pulled my shoulders up to my ears, as I ran from A to B and cursed things that even I couldn't understand.

Only the light from the window of the hut and the light from the drag lifts twenty meters away brought light to the pitch-dark ski slope that stretched below me.

It's not what it looks like! It's always what it looks like! - "Asshole, idiot, wanker!" I called out into the clear evening air.

"I hope you don't mean me again?" A voice suddenly came from behind me.

I turned around and recognized Yeonjun in the dim light of the surroundings. I quickly turned away again.

Never let your enemies see your tears!- my father always says.

"Are you crying?" He asked further and I heard the snow crunching under his feet.

I frantically wiped my cold teary cheeks.

"Pff, not because of him! How long have you known him - a day?" Yeonjun said. His voice now close behind me.

"What do you want here, Yeonjun? Leave me alone, I have enough to worry about right now!" I replied sharply. For a moment there was silence. I kept my gaze fixed on the snow beneath me. I started to shiver, unintentionally but no wonder given the cold.

"I'll make sure you don't freeze to death out here." I heard him say. His answer was a little softer than usual.

"Ha! That would be fine with you." I hissed back.

"That's nonsense!" Yeonjun exclaimed, the next moment I felt his hands on my shoulders and I promptly were turned around.

"Why are you crying and trying to get yourself killed out here? Boys suck, you should know that."

"Cheating is not only shit, it's anti-social, unrespectful and a crime!", I pulled myself out of his grasp, "I just want to be alone right now, so get lost!"

"You're such a stubborn person sometimes that I just-"

"That you want to - what? - You want to kill me? Then make it easy and get inside! The cold will do the jo-"

Before I could finish, Yeonjun grabbed my forearm and pulled me with him surprisingly easily.

"Let go of me, asshole!" I protested as he opened the door to the mountain hut again.

He showed the tall, broadly built security man his party entry bracelet and also mine, since I was wearing it on my wrist, which he was holding tightly. The man nodded and looked at me a little confused as Yeonjun dragged me further.

"What's your jacket?!" He wanted to know when he got to the cloakroom and finally let me go. His grip would definitely leave bruises. "Mind your own business?" I asked and Yeonjun gave me a dangerous look.

"If you have your jacket, you're welcome to stand outside all night long, but you won't die." He growled.

"Since when have you been interested in my health?" I didn't give in.

"SUMI!!!" Yeonjun shouted clearly for everyone in the hut to hear, even over the loud music. I winced.

"Can't you forget your fucking pride for once and tell me what your fucking jacket looks like?!" He cursed at me. I looked at him for a few moments and then at the woman in the dressing room who had been watching us in shock. Finally, I rummaged through my back pocket of my jeans for the little chip that told the woman where my jacket had been hung.

The woman accepted the chip and disappeared into the cloakroom without saying a word.

"Finally!" Yeonjun turned his back to the coat rack and slumped against it. He looked at me and I suddenly felt very small. My gaze went down.

"You can be quite annoying, you know that?" He said and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. But I didn't say anything, even though there was something on the tip of my tongue that I had been able to respond.

A moment later the woman came back and put my jacket over the counter.

"Here you go, I wish you a pleasant evening." She murmured casually as she eyed Yeonjun skeptically, who still had his back to the woman.

I grabbed my jacket and decided at that moment that there was no point in staying here. So why not leaving?

Without saying another word to the woman or Yeonjun, I turned around and left.

"Put it on in front of me, otherwise I'll have to go out again!" Yeonjun asked me, but I kept going. When I finally got back outside, I put on my warm ski jacket and adjusted my scarf that was stuck in the sleeve of the jacket. Then I stalked off. The snow crunches beneath my feet.

I loved that sound and it always brought me a childlike joy, but right now it didn't spark anything in me.

I was drunk, sad and pissed off...sleep would help...maybe.

"Potato!" I heard Yeonjun calling, who seemed to have followed me outside again. I didn't stop, just looked over my shoulder in the direction of the mountain hut. Yeonjun ran after me, also frantically pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked when he was no longer two meters away from me.

"To the hotel, I don't want to stay anymore." I explained myself and trudged up the stairs to the drag lift.

"Oh, fuck Danwoo! He wouldn't have made it anyway!" Yeonjun said. The sound of a zipper followed his statement.

"Is it always just about the one thing for you?” I asked as we arrived at the drag lift platform, that was supposed to bring us down. It was empty except for the two of us. The lift attendant had probably gone home hours ago and had just left the lift running.

"Well, I'm just saying, you always pick the losers." Yeonjun said as we stood so that a lift could swing directly into our legs. What happened immediately afterwards. We dropped into the cold seat of the seat lift and began our way down.

"How do you know? Danwoo wouldn’t have-"

"Oh no, don't tell me that. Danwoo wouldn't have gotten anything done. And that's exactly your problem!" He interrupted and I looked at him questioningly after I pulled down the bar that now served us as a belt.

"What's my problem?"

"You're totally unsatisfied! That's why it's so annoying with you."

I tried my best not to give the most sarcastic laugh the world had ever heard.

"You're such an idiot! That's not my problem, it's you! I'm a gentle little flower to others, you know...but as you are to me, I'm to you!"

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, "A gentle flower? How much did you drink?"

"To be honest, a lot, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm telling the truth." I said and crossed my arms.

"Hm...I'd rather stick to my opinion - sounds more logical." Yeonjun grumbled.The rest of the ride was silent. After we got out, we had to walk about 10 minutes to the hotel.

It was strange. I almost didn't feel the need to avoid Yeonjun. Of course he was annoying me - to hell - but I was almost happy not to be alone, even if it was Yeonjun...with whom I shared the silence of the night.

In the second minute of the walk, Yeonjun found his voice again: "Honestly, when was the last time you had really good sex?"

I looked at Yeonjun in horror. He looked at me almost innocently. A stark contrast to his question.

"As if I'm telling you this..." to be honest I've never had sex...but he didn't need to know that. With my first boyfriend it never got further than foreplay. Well, I was 20 now, but I never put any pressure on myself to have sex.

You don't miss what you don't know, so why the rush. The right one will come at some point.

"So it's been ages?" Yeonjun asked and I rolled my eyes. "Why am I even talking to you?!" I grumbled and Yeonjun gave a small laugh. "Because you know deep down that I'll bring it." This statement makes me stand still. I never expected such a statement even from Yeonjun. "Please what?" It slipped my mind and Yeonjun also stopped two steps in front of me. He smiled broadly at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I don't want to praise myself, but I've only ever received good feedback. I could get you to your high." He said and you could practically see him mentally patting himself on the shoulder.

"You're disgusting! I thought I am too annoying to put up with for even two minutes." I pointed out and Yeonjun shrugged.

"Drunk you're ok." He said and continued walking. After a few seconds I started moving again.

"Still this won't happen in a thousand years!" I said, earning a laugh from Yeonjun.

"Not even if you were the last one in the world." I continued my thought. Now nothing came from Yeonjun. The thought shook my body.

No, no, I would never go into bed with him. Disgusting!

"I..would." I then heard and looked up. Yeonjun looked over his shoulders at me.

"I do not think so."

"I guess so!"

"Oh man Yeonjun, are you really just thinking with your cock?"

"Would be a huge space for thinking." It took me two seconds to understand what he meant. When it clicked, I pushed him aside: "You're really gross!"

The hotel was already in sight. I almost thought we had a good moment, a minute ago, but now I just wanted to get away from this conversation quickly. Luckily, Yeonjun stayed behind me and kept his mouth shut. But I felt his gaze very present on me.

"Apart from your stubbornness, which really annoys me, you have a really nice body." Yeonjun finally said as we turned into the hotel parking area.

"Yeonjun stop, this is really strange!" I protested, only hearing a deep breath behind me.

"Are you really drunk?" He asked further and I looked over my shoulder. His warm breath puffed into the cold air, clearer than my own.

"I don't think DRUNK but ON DRUNK." I said as I pushed open the front door of the hotel. The lobby was only dimly lit, but cozy and warm. Nobody was here anymore - sure it was about 3am. I stopped briefly in front of the fireplace and stretched out my cold fingers. The ember still released heat.

Mmm, that was nice.

Suddenly someone grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back violently. Immediately afterwards I noticed the corner of the old wooden reception desk on my lower back. Startled, I looked up and was greeted by Yeonjun's sharp eyes. I knew that Yeonjun was significantly taller than me, but he was just so close to me that I had to look up high. His hands firmly on my hips, holding me close to the reception.

"What the hell-"

"Funny...I'm pretty horny right now." He murmured and I saw his eyes suddenly darken. That sent a shiver down my spine.

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corazondebeskar-reads · 7 months

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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter ten

well it's love, make it hurt series

ten: I'd be a fool to have asked for more

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

for Kinktober 2023 - Day 29: Genital Pumping

This is part of a series of snapshots following dom!Din Djarin and sub!f!reader as they navigate working together as bounty hunters and exploring a d/s relationship.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and Mando pursue your big-ticket bounty, but it turns out to be much more dangerous than you expected.

Warnings: bdsm, established relationship, dom!din and sub!reader, soft dom din djarin, bounty hunting, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, graphic injuries, genital pumping, pussy pump, dacryphilia, aftercare, subspace, more plot than usual.

Prompts from this list by @absurdthirst.

also on ao3

3 ABY - Winter

You put a moratorium on sex. Not because you don’t want Mando, but because you’re becoming a little rabid about the hunt.

Vanda had hopped planets again, just a few steps ahead of you. What’s worse is that you don’t even know if he knows he’s being followed or if you're just failing to catch up.

Mando sulks, just a little. He doesn’t protest, but when you’re settled down for bed, he brushes a knuckle over your breast, teasing around the nipple. “Eighteen more hours until we arrive,” he says with a sigh. His finger trails delicately, dancing along your ribs and back up.

“Yep,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Plenty of time to rest and prepare.”

“Plenty,” he agrees, his hand ghosting up the line of your neck in a poor imitation of what he’d like to do with his lips. He ignores the twang of guilt when he considers that he’d probably have what he wants by now if he could use them. Thinking about it makes him ache harder, twitching where he’s pressed against your lower back.

“Stop it,” you go to scoot away, but he catches your hip with his wandering hand. You can’t help it; you moan and meet him halfway. “We are grown adults. We can go a few days.”

“The time will pass no matter how we fill it,” he says, but he pulls back a little, letting the space between you cushion his desires.

You twist your head to press a soft kiss to his helmet. “I’m s—”

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t ever apologize for saying no.”

You close your eyes for a moment. Sometimes, he says things that shouldn’t be so baffling, and yet, you’re thrown off step. “Thank you,” you say instead. You nestle back down into his arm and try to chase a pleasant dream.

It doesn’t come.

There’s a reason why the guild encourages hunters not to ask too many questions about their bounties. You haven't thought of much other than catching Vanda, haven't been sleeping well. Not since Mando recounted his conversation with Madame Anissa.

“Olin Vanda?” Anissa looked at him with wide eyes. “Dead or alive?”

“I shouldn’t discuss—”

“Dead. or. Alive?”

“Either.”

She put a hand over her chest, took a deep breath, and fixed such an intense stare on his visor that his pulse quickened. “I remember him. I can do you one better than his habits and connections. I can get you a more recent location. But you have to promise me something.”

Mando was no stranger to striking deals for information. “What do you want?”

“Promise you’ll kill him.”

It set all his nerves on end. “Tell me what you know,” he said softly, leaning forward.

“He trafficks. Young girls, orphans, whoever. He was bringing girls through here to sell.” She closed her eyes for a moment, hurt erupting across her gentle face. “Right under my nose.”

“You couldn’t have known,” he said. But neither of them believed it.

“That’s why we separated you. We do it to everyone now,” she said. Her voice was thick with resentment. “I should have noticed sooner.”

“But you did notice?”

“Yes. It’s why he was relocated from Morlana One. I reported him, and that was the ISB’s solution — cover it up. They never looked for those girls, never issued any other consequences.”

“Dank farrik,” Mando mutters.

“I’ll reach out to my network and see if anyone has had a sighting recently. He pops up at other clubs from time to time, but I flagged his face in our system, so he gets kicked out pretty quickly.”

The coordinates she gave when you left Axis were from another Madame who had seen him just two days prior. The timing couldn’t have been better, which is why you were so frustrated when he kept vanishing.

You don’t often kill bounties who can be captured. Not only because they’re usually worth more alive but because it keeps you cleaner. Lighter. Fewer souls to drag around after you drop the bodies off. But when Mando tells you of his promise to Anissa, you find yourself hoping to be the one to do it.

It could have been you. Damn near almost was. Cantonica wasn’t kind to children, particularly those with no family to protect them and no debt to work off. You were ten when the hunters came to collect your parents’ debts and took pity on you. They were partners, and while they weren’t the kind of people to go around adopting stray kids, they also weren’t the kind of people to leave one to die.

Instead, they gave you a few credits, a blaster, and the location of an abandoned scrapyard. Not that you’d told Mando any of this, but he didn’t need an explanation for why you might be bloodthirsty over this particular bounty.

Once you land, it doesn’t take long to find them. Vanda and his little band of loyalists are at a pub, cheating their way through the locals in a Sabacc tournament. There are too many potential casualties, so you track down their ships and stake out.

It’s well past dark when they arrive. The two of you are shadows, the push and pull of your motions in tandem as you take out some of the extras. No one will shed a tear over fewer Imps. They don’t even know what’s happened until half of them are bleeding out in the docking bay.

That’s when it all goes to shit. Your vibroblade is at the throat of a burly man when another comes up behind you and grabs you. His momentum lets you still manage to split the delicate tendons of his compatriot, but he has you in a chokehold, and though he screams in rage when your teeth sink into his arm, he does not drop you.

The noise splinters the silence. Everyone is abruptly aware of the fight. It would have been fine, should have been fine, until another one of Vanda’s lackeys raises a blaster at you, and something happens that you thought was impossible.

Mando stops.

He freezes and redirects his attention, shooting and killing both men you were fighting. But in that one, tiny moment of distraction, Vanda buries a large, jagged vibroblade in Mando’s exposed side.

Neither of you realizes it right away. He’s busy killing the men who were trying to hurt you, and you’re busy pursuing Vanda, who has fled toward a ship. But you don’t make it to the ramp on time, because you look over to see Mando pull the blade from his body.

He’s on his knees, trying to put pressure on the wound but investigating it at the same time. He doesn’t see Vanda aim a blaster at you, but you’re already on the move toward him, so luckily, the bolt only catches you in the shoulder.

You don’t feel it. You’re already into your pack, pulling out the small medkit you carry for field emergencies.

Mando looks up when your knees hit the ground next to him. You’re pulling his flightsuit away from the wound, but he catches your hand.

“Fuck, cyare, your shoulder, let me—”

“Are you kriffing kidding me? You’re bleeding out, let go.”

“You’ve been shot, when did you get shot?”

“Which one of us is bleeding out right now?” you yell, yanking your wrist from his grasp and plunging the needle into his side without warning. He’s shaking, the wound is gushing, and it’s too slippery to hold on to the syringe. You have to try again, but a good third of the bacta is wasted.

When you manage to get the medicine in him, you sit back, the shot abandoned at your side. “It’s not enough,” you say through deep gasps for air.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, eerily calm.

“Which one of us is bleeding out right now?” you repeat, less fury and more frenzy. Your hands are covered in his blood, slick and sticky, and it’s still oozing from his side. You try to wipe your hands on your pants so you can dig out the needle and thread, but they’re wet with it, too.

He hands you the cauterizer. He’d do it himself, but he’s feeling faint enough to know he might black out from the pain.

“You can do it,” he says.

You’ve never used one before. Never had a wound grievous enough to require it.

“Breathe. Look at me,” he says.

You do.

“You can do this, I trust you.”

You have no choice but to believe him, not unless you’re going to leave him on the ground of the docking bay and hope he’s still alive when you get back with more bacta.

So you scrabble for a sloppy hold on the open wound and burn his skin together. It’s awful. You throw up after, stumbling to a corner behind a crate and emptying your stomach. The smell of singed flesh sticks to your clothes.

But it’s enough to get him back to the ship. Enough to get him laying on the crates in the hull while you dig up bacta patches and cover the burn. Enough that you can sit on the table and become abruptly aware of the hole in your shoulder just long enough for him to bandage you up himself.

Once you’re sure he’s not going to faint, or worse, you strip out of your ruined clothes and rinse his blood from you in the fresher. When you come back out, he’s cooking.

“What in the stars do you think you’re doing?”

“We both need to eat.”

“And you can wait five minutes for me to do it!”

“You’ve done so much, cyare, let me take care of you.”

You stomp your foot, balling your hands into fists. “You absolute idiot!” It comes out a bit more screechy than you’d like, but you think you’re entitled. “Sit down. You almost bled out. No, you know what? Go lay in the bunk.”

He turns the burner off and looks at you. Your hair is still dripping down the tunic you’ve borrowed from his shelf, and your mouth is twisted into a snarl. You’re flushed and tense, braced for a fight, but he sees the way your eyes keep flicking to his side, checking to see if the wound reopened, checking to make sure the blood is only burned into your memory and not trickling down his leg.

He regards you carefully and nods once, putting a hand up to stop the protest he knows will be coming. “Fine, but I’m staying here. I’m not leaving this room.” He moves slowly to the crates and sits down on your old bedroll. “Okay, sweetheart?”

“Fine.” You stomp around the kitchen, throwing together what can only vaguely be considered a meal. You hesitate when you hand it to him, wavering on the spot.

He knows you’re thinking the same thing. “Stay,” he says, so you don’t have to ask.

You look at him but don’t move.

He dips his helmet toward the ground and watches you work your jaw, biting your lip, before you give in and sink to your knees at his feet, facing into the belly of the ship. He sets the plate beside him and removes his gloves.

He feeds you while he eats. It’s not something you do often — you’re only barely domesticated when it comes to food security, often preferring to wolf down your meal on your own. But you can tell he needs it—needs to regain control over the situation, needs you to be close.

When he’s done, he replaces the helmet, and you take the plate to the sink.

“C’mere,” he says, reaching for your hand. You let him pull you close but protest when he tries to lift you onto the seat.

He gives in immediately, but when you hop up, he tries to pull you into his lap. “Can I have you, cyar’ika?”

“You’re hurt.”

“So are you. Fuck. I’ll be gentle.”

Your lip wobbles a little. He cups your face in one broad palm, and you lean into it, closing your eyes.

“I almost died,” he tries.

It has the opposite effect than he hoped. Your eyes snap open, and you pull away from him. “Exactly! You need to rest.”

“Can’t. Need you, pretty girl, please?”

You hesitate, so he follows it up with another, more playful “I almost died.”

“Stop it, that’s not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny. Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I have an idea.”

Your eyes narrow. “By the stars, if you say you want to try something right now, I’ll—I’ll—”

“You’ll humor me since I almost died?”

You swallow hard as the retort gets trapped behind the sudden lump in your throat.

He watches the way your lips fall slack and reaches up to curl his hand around your neck. “I’m okay,” he says.

You hold onto his wrist with both hands. “You almost died.”

His thumb brushes up and down. “Not really. You wouldn’t have let me.”

You hold back the sob, but your eyes prick at the corners, anyway. He brushes the tears away and sits up, pressing his helmet to your forehead.

“I ever tell you what this means?” his voice is so hushed, the modulator doesn’t pick it up. You only hear the real thing, the inflections, and rasp clear without the static.

“What what means?”

“This,” he pulls away a little and presses your heads back together. “This is how Mandalorians kiss when they can’t remove their helmets.”

Your chest feels like it’s been cleaved open.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You pull back a little and carefully, slowly raise your hands up to cup the sides of his helmet before pressing your head back against his, exhaling shakily. He wraps his arms around you, nearly clinging. You shift to straddle his lap, feeling like you could crawl into him just to make sure his heart is still pulsing.

“It’s also useful for headbutting,” he says after a few minutes have passed.

When the laughter bursts from you, it springs free a few tears and a hiccup.

“Don’t cry, cyar’ika. I told you, I wasn’t worried. We’re a good team. I know you have my back.”

It only makes you cry harder.

“Hey, save those tears for later,” he murmurs. “You’ll need them after I’ve worn you out.”

You sniffle. “I knew you liked it.”

He thinks about telling you why. He thinks about telling you how the moments you burst into tears are how he knows you love him, even if you won’t say it. How it feels to know he’s the only one in the galaxy you’ll be vulnerable with, that you trust.

“What can I say? You’re so pretty when you suffer for me, sweetheart,” he says instead. Maybe later. Maybe when you both aren’t so raw, when he thinks you’re less likely to hide and lick your wounds.

He’s a patient man. He can wait for you.

His words make you squirm, and he takes the opening.

“I think you like it too,” he says, curling fingers under your chin. “You want me to make you suffer, cyare? Ready to try something new?”

You nod, looking into his visor with wet but yearning eyes. You knew you were going to give in. He had almost died. You wanted him to stitch up the part of you that had been so afraid.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs and pushes a thumb between your lips for you to suck on.

Your eyes flutter shut, the taste of him like iron and petrichor.

“Let’s go to the bed,” he murmurs. “I really do want to try something. It’ll make it easier to be careful.”

“Okay.”

When you’ve persuaded him that whatever you’re doing can be done with you both lying down and resting, he shows you a strange device.

“Is that for like… drugs or something?” you ask, squishing the soft rubber piece that looks like a mask.

“No, this is what’s going to help me ruin your cunt since you won’t let me move around.”

“Oh,” you whisper. You don’t understand, but you’re wet in anticipation anyway.

“Open,” he taps your knee.

You obey. You’re already starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, and he had slipped his collar around your neck a few moments earlier. And you know he needs this—you certainly do. He fits the little mask over your pussy. You clench your fist, trying to breathe steady. He shows you the bulb he’s attached to the end of a tube, and you realize what it’s for right as he squeezes it, and the mask pulls tight to you.

He pumps it a few more times as you stare at the hand holding the bulb. The sensation isn’t much, not yet, just a gentle hold and a faint tingle.

He watches your face. “How does it feel?”

“More, please, sir,” you say quickly.

It’s not quite an answer to his question, but he’s fairly sure you’re already gone, head empty of the day’s fear and drifting off at his whim. So he obliges. He can tell the moment it crosses into something ravenous.

Your eyes widen, pupils blown, and your mouth falls open. He can see your pussy lips swelling a little already and greedily pumps the bulb until you moan.

“That tight enough for you?” he asks, running a careful finger along the edge of the pump and your flesh. He’s rewarded with a shudder and retracts his hand.

“More, please.”

“Careful what you ask for,” he warns, but he’s already increasing the pressure. It’s sealed tight around your cunt, and he sets the bulb down, eager to watch you squirm.

You don’t disappoint. As the moments stack up, as five minutes creep by, you’re trying very hard to hold still and failing catastrophically. He traces the outline, skimming over throbbing flesh. A wicked grin grows as your whines increase in pitch and desperation.

After a few more minutes, he checks in again, noting the sheen of sweat on your brow. “Does it hurt yet?” he murmurs.

“A-a little,” you say, fidgeting.

“You want me to take it off and touch you?”

“Oh fuck.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he lays on the fake pity. “I’m just trying to help you, cyare, you need to tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you cry. “Please, more.”

“More what? More this?” he squeezes the bulb again, not that there’s much more he can do, but you wail anyway.

“Please, please touch me.”

He grabs the end of the pump and yanks. It pops off, and you keen, grabbing at him with shaking hands.

“Hmm.” He takes a moment to thoroughly enjoy the sight of your swollen, dripping cunt. He reaches down and lazily drags a finger across the seam, laughing when your hips buck up hard, knocking his finger between your lips.

“No, please,” you say as he pulls the finger away.

He spreads you, the tip of his finger honing in on your throbbing clit. His caress is soft, at first, and it doesn’t take you more than a moment to reach the edge. He doesn’t wait for you to beg, just demands your orgasm from your body with a strict command and stricter hands.

It hurts. It hurts so much you scream, but your body betrays how good it feels, despite the agony and humiliation. He’s relentless. It takes so little effort for him to tear you apart that by the time he eases you onto your side so he can slip his cock in, there’s nothing left in your tattered brain.

His thrusts are smooth but deep. You’re more than wet enough to ease the way, and swollen enough that your cunt swallows him whole, holding him tight. He luxuriates in the velvet embrace, groaning and rocking into you in spite of the ache in his side.

He abandons your clit, trading mercy for other tortures as his hands pinch and pull at your nipples. His grip is as tight as clamps, and he uses your tits as leverage to fuck into you. He urges you to cum again, and it pries a raw sob from your chest.

When he can’t take it anymore, he holds on to your breasts, one clenched tight in each hand, and pounds hard. You’re crying, but it’s reduced to little huffed sobs as his cock knocks them loose. He knows you’ll be mad that he’s exerting himself, so he makes it quick.

“Mine,” he snarls as he loses control, pushing deep inside to fill you. “You’re fucking mine, do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, please, yours,” you gasp.

“Don’t you fucking scare me like that again.” He can’t shut up. He can’t stopper the well as it bubbles up. “Almost fucking lost you.”

Later, you’ll remember what he’s saying, and snap at him indignantly, demanding again to know which of you nearly bled out. But it doesn’t matter, doesn’t register to him that your injuries and danger were so much less than his. All he can see is the man with a blaster pointed at your chest.

“Didn’t,” you say. “M’right here.” Your hand reaches up to hold the back of his neck. He’s softening inside you but doesn’t move to pull out.

He checks your bandage, but it looks intact. You try to roll over and check his, but he holds you tight. “It’s fine,” he reassures you. “Please stay.”

And if he’s bleeding just a little, he thinks, it was worth it for the way you’re finally calm enough to rest.

*title from "Everything Must Go" by Taking Back Sunday

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x f!reader #dom din djarin #the mandalorian fic #mando fic #make it hurt verse #kinktober 2023

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

Text

Sleigh Ride: Winter Warmers Collection [Loki x Fem. Reader]

Part of the Winter Warmers Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki organises a romantic, moonlit sleigh ride. But somehow, things still get pretty hot. (w/c 1.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Language. Fluffy too.

“Open your eyes, darling.”

Loki’s breath fogged the air as you did what he asked; feeling the soft leather of his gloves slide gently from your eyelids.

“Oh my god...Loki!” you squealed, hopping from foot to foot.

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you spun on the thickly blanketed ground, a gleaming white under the low floodlights. You threw your arms over his shoulders, drawing him into an excited kiss as his hands looped around your lower back.

“Do you like it?” he murmured, his warm breath soothing the evening chill resting on your skin.

You nodded, turning back in amazement to the two beautiful chestnut horses waiting patiently on the curved driveway of Tony’s country house. Jingle bells adorned their harnesses, tinkling gently as they shuffled against the snow.

An ornate sleigh of deepest green sat behind them, shining in the moonlight.

Making your way forward, you ran a gloved hand over the glossy neck of the nearest horse. It turned its head, nosing your arm. “They’re absolutely wonderful, Lokes...is this...is this just for us?” you said, already knowing the answer.

“Of course, darling” he huffed, throwing a glance towards a roar of his brother’s raucous laughter from the house. Shadows danced behind the curtains, the Avengers winter getaway in full swing. “As if I would organise a romantic sleigh ride for anyone else…”

You turned, drinking in the sight of him standing majestically with his long dark coat swirling in a very cape-like manner. The thought made you smile as he extended his hand with a coy tilt of his head, one foot resting on the dip in the side of the vintage sleigh.

“My Winter Queen…” he purred. “Your carriage awaits.”

You raised your eyebrows with a playful smirk, “Not just for winter, I hope…” you quipped, feeling his grip on your hand tighten as you hopped into the sleigh. A reindeer pelt was folded at the side, a thermos and two mugs placed against it.

Shuffling into the seat, you smiled like a loon as the handsomest man in the world, nay...the universe, arranged himself with a flourish.

He unbuttoned his coat, fanning the sides before sinking with one arm around your shoulders, tipping his sharp jawline upwards as he looked at you with a self-satisfied grin. Curls fell haphazardly over his dark green scarf, your present to him. Even Gods can catch a cold, you’d said earlier, relishing the light-hearted roll of his eyes.

“Onward, then.” he said decisively, gripping the leather reins with one hand and giving them a quick flick.

The lights of the country house grew further away, but there was never darkness. The full moon shone above, bathing the countryside in a mysterious, ethereal glow.

Loki’s fingers curled protectively on your shoulder, even when you unfolded the reindeer pelt and snuggled it up to cover you both. You leant back on his chest, reshuffling your legs to fit beneath the edges.

“Perhaps you could sit on my lap, love.” Loki said, a smile curling at his lips as he stared ahead, muffled clips and clops sounding on the beaten track. “You could take the reins?” he added innocently after a pause, as if that created greater incentive.

“Are you sure? That’s a lot of responsibility.” you toyed, scooting ungracefully onto his wide lap beneath the pelt. His chin nestled into the curve of your shoulder, lips finding a sliver of bare skin above your scarf. He hummed against it, his cold mouth warming with every flex of the gentle kiss against your neck.

Minutes passed. You could feel his cock hardening; thickening with every shift of your body against the sway of the sleigh. Without thinking, your hips began to rotate gently, teasing him wordlessly as the beauty of the moonlit countryside slid past.

“Gods, darling...why must I always be in need of you thus.” he moaned gently behind you, hips thrusting upwards against your ass. You pressed down on the hard column straining against his thigh, relishing the needy whine of pleasure it produced.

“Maybe we could get a little closer...what do you say?” you said coyly, casting a glance over your shoulder.

His lips were parted, a cloud of frosted breath exhaling gently as those beautiful eyes flickered upward.

Loki’s face in the moonlight was breath-taking, the chiselled lines of his bone structure radiant in the half-lit winter paradise which surrounded you. Beside the darkness of the high-collared coat, his skin glowed; matching the fields and hedgerows blanketed with heavy snow against the midnight sky.

“Hold these.” he murmured, pressing the reins into your gloved palms before covering your hands with his.

The feeling of sinking into a hot bath washed over your lower body, the familiar firmness of his taut muscles suddenly flush to your naked skin. “Just the trousers?” you chuckled, nuzzling into his cheek.

He tutted. “And the panties, my love. You would catch your death if I removed it all. And whatever they may say, I am a gentleman.”

His hands slid beneath the blanket, fingertips pressing against your waist as he raised you deftly before sinking you down his waiting length. The horses snorted in surprise as you and Loki groaned in tandem, your head falling back against his neck before you both giggled like teenagers.

“I’m not sure the horses would agree you’re a g-gentle-fuck,-man…” you muttered through a panted moan as he filled you slowly with a careful thrust. Loki let out a stuttered laugh, choking into a guttural moan as he bottomed out.

“Oh g-gods, your so tight darling. So hot.” Loki muttered against your ear, his deep voice warming the depths of your soul. “Does that feel good, my sweet one?”

Your hips thrust forwards, rocking against the base of his cock; every graze of his girth sending sizzling sparks through your body. His name fluttered from your lips like foam on waves, echoing every careful caress of his manhood snug inside your core.

“Watch the road…” he whispered through a smile, guiding your clenched fists to the side as the horses swerved a hedgerow. You whined, opening your eyes reluctantly. “I can’t, Loki...it feels too f-fucking g-good…”

“Oh dear…” Loki purred darkly. You could hear him smirking as you squirmed. “I better not do this then.”

You hadn’t noticed one of his hands sliding covertly over your parted thighs; calves tightening against his legs as Loki began to rub your clit in circles beneath the reindeer pelt.

Your hips bucked upwards, biting your bottom lip to stifle a high-pitched cry. The god hissed behind you, a low aaaaa rumbling in his throat as your pussy clenched around him.

It had begun to snow again.

“Move for me, darling – like you’re riding one of those pretty horses.” he growled darkly, before sucking your earlobe; pulling it outward between his teeth.

The words set you aflame, tightening the grip of your walls around his cock as you drew upward.

The leather of the reins wound around your fingers, keeping the animals straight as you fucked your god below. Warm wetness slid against your centre with fluid strokes up and down his length, glancing backwards longingly as he moaned your name to the endless night.

Loki’s head had fallen back, tendrils of snow-speckled hair falling over his shoulders. His scarf was untucked from where it had been nestled pristinely in the neck of his coat. Dishevelled, you thought with a secret smile.

His fingers stroked your clit in waves, the perfect pressure mounting; the root of his cock tugging against your base at every roll of your hips. Your face turned upwards toward the open sky, light flakes drifting on the gentle breeze; melting on the surface of your heated cheeks.

You gripped the reindeer pelt draped across your lap, the smart of tight leather cutting through your gloves from the reins. Loki let out a long growl, tapering to a whine as he came slowly undone.

“That’s it, darling...t-that’s it. Uhhhh...fuck, r-ride me hard, s-sweet darling, yes...yes…”

You whimpered, feeling your thighs begin to shake. Loki’s free hand gripped the pelt at your hips, pulling it down in a tight fist; pressing you as deep as physically possible on his magnificent cock. “Loki, f-fuck I’m c-coming...I’m- uhhh-”

His fingers pulsed above your aching bundle of nerves, rocking you over the precipice as he claimed you with shallow thrusts; tipping the balance.

Your head fell back, a moan of his name filling the frozen country air as he mouthed messy kisses on your neck. The god let out a muffled cry against your skin as he came, his legs juddering beneath yours as he bottomed out with a final thrust into the warm heat he craved.

The horses walked on, hooves hitting the virgin snow the only sound above Loki’s shallow pants.

His forehead rested on your cheek, your hand feeling backwards to pull him closer; fingers combing through his hair. “I love you, darling.” he murmured through broken breaths. You hummed happily, still catching your breath. An unexpected shiver ran over your body, making Loki pull you closer.

“Shall we break out that hot cocoa?” he whispered, pointing lazily to the thermos discarded on the floor of the sleigh. A sigh sneaked from your lips, nestling back into your love’s chest and pulling the pelt higher. You could feel his godly cock softening inside you, liquid arousal beginning a descent between your inner thighs. “In a minute…” you murmured dreamily, “I don’t want this moment to end.”

“End? My love...” he chuckled, chiding you. He summoned the thermos with a flick of his wrist, the steel meeting his firm grip with a soft slap.

“Tonight’s festivities have only just begun." He winked, twisting the lid of the thermos with a pop. "We haven't even had a chance to take to the skies, yet."

@lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @mrsbarnes32557038 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @lokiprompts @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @peachyymallows @tbhiddlestan83 @peachyjinx @kikster606 @tbhiddlestan83

#winter warmers collection #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki smut #lokismut #loki x reader smut #loki x yn smut #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki fluff and smut #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki odinson #avenger!loki

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icelynodette · 5 months

Video

youtube

Hip Hop Dance Silverton Christmas Fest 2023 Lucas

#youtube #Hip Hop Dance Silverton Christmas Fest 2023 Lucas #hip hop dance #Hip Hop #Dance #Silverton Christmas Fest #Silverton Community Christmas Fest #Winter Dance #Dance Performance #Hip Hop Winter Dance #Winter Dance Performance

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y0url0verb0y · 7 months

Text

The urge to make a marauders era dance au is taking over 😩😩

(hip-hop>>>>> | even tho we're doing lyrical for winter at my dance 😭)

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kazuaru · 2 days

Text

Aiden Woodward for @aniraklova's Yasmine's Desire.

Name: Aiden Woodward

Age: 26

Pronouns: he/Him

Sexuality: Straight 😢

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Traits: Art Lover, Active & Hot Headed

Likes: ⬇️

Colors - (Green, Black)

Music - (Hip-Hop & R&B)

Sim Characteristics - (Hard Working Sims)

Conversation Topics - (Discussing Interest & Stories)

Hobbies - (Fitness, Guitar & Painting)

Dislikes: ⬇️

Colors - (Pink & Purple)

Music - (Ranch & Winter Holiday)

Sim Characteristics - (High Energy Sims)

Conversation Topics - (Complaints & Deception)

Hobbies - (Dancing, Horse Riding & Rock Climbing)

(face claim)

More info” below

Aiden is an ex convict who served time for home invasion, robbery & running from the authority's. He snuck into his ex girlfriends apartment after they broke up a week ago & when to steal/take back his belongings he bough with his own money. After he got out of jail/prison he did his community service he wanted to so become a tattoo artist. Now he currently live in a loft above the tattoo shop he works at & he sells paintings as a side hustle.

I hope that's enough info & you like him :)!!!

#ts4 #sims 4 #my sims #ts4 cas #simblr #the rest of his outfits are from packs & cc i already used in his first two outfits like shoes/pants & jewelry

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wof-inbox · 18 days

Note

To Qibli: You ever heard of this cool type of music called Hip Hop? Wrning: It is adictive and you will find yourself dancing uncontrollably to the insane music.

“I forced Winter to listen it, he said it was “boring” and “not worth my time” but then I catch him listening to it an hour later.” -Qibli

#wings of fire #wof #wof art #qibli wof #qibli answers

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elliestwoleftfingerss · 2 months

Note

Hey, can you write something for Tommy Miller? The reader is tommy's wife and he finds her after serval years after he thought she was dead (she using all his tricks, she learned from him) he being a proud husband. Thank you 💜

Sorry if I took a while to reply to this, my absolute dumbass was reading it at 10 at night and thought the gender was switched (I basically thought Tommy was the one who was supposed to be dead lmfao). This gave me strong 'Huntsman: Winters War' vibes, so if it goes off a little, blame Chris Hemsworth <3 Thanks for the request, and I hope y'all enjoy :>

Not proofread

Gender: Female (She / Her)

Word count: 1125 words, 6054 characters

Warning: Mentions of death, Mentions of violence, Strong language

You knew death was coming to you. It was an inevitable end, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Death seemed like a foreign concept to you; you were always out of reach, but this time, it dug its claws into you and made up for those times you’d cheated it.

With everything you’d experienced in your life, death was more of a welcome than a burden. Your body finally gave in, your mind being able to finally rest from the endless trauma. You’d lived your life, and death opened its arms to you.

Where you were ready to let go, however, Tommy was not. You’d never seen him fight for something so hard before. With half-lidded eyes, you watched your beloved husband as he battled your dance with death to keep you awake. These hands, that had slaughtered more men than you were ever aware of, were so gentle with your broken form as he applied a pressure on the stab wound to your abdomen. The ruthless hands of a killer, handling you with the utmost care.

He tried everything he could think of to stop you from giving in to the temptation of death, but you eventually shut your eyes and let yourself rest.

“Tommy, if you’d just listen to me-” Joel’s gruff voice started, but the older brother wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Tommy interrupted him, for the umpteenth time. He refused to believe what he was hearing.

“Stop fuckin’ lying to me,” Tommy spat, his hands planted firmly on his hips as he turned his back to Joel to pace around the bar. “She isn’t alive.”

No, the dead are supposed to stay dead. Tommy watched you die. In a futile attempt to keep your heart beating, he knew you were long gone. He felt your pulse slip away, the only indicator of your life fading into oblivion like it had never existed at all.

“You aren’t hearing me!” Joel boomed. With Tommy already talking with a loud voice, Joel was now full-blown yelling. He couldn’t get his brother to listen to him; Tommy was convinced that you were dead. Everyone was convinced you were dead. They knew you were.

So how the hell were you alive?

“Because I watched her die!” Tommy snapped back, his voice threateningly low as he whirled around. This was clearly something Joel and Tommy didn’t agree on.

Before the boys could finish this argument, Tommy grabbed his pack and swung it over his shoulder. He didn’t hear any more of what Joel had to say, and stalked out of the Tipsy Bison.

Tommy and Joel’s horses, Justified and Old Beardy, stood tied up outside of the bar, and Tommy was fast to walk down the front steps of the Tipsy Bison and unknotting Justified’s reins. He hopped onto the horse’s back with his pack around his shoulders, spinning the animal in a tight circle and galloping off toward the woods.

As Tommy fled into the woods, he thought about what Joel had told him. It seemed impossible that’d you be alive: you died in his arms. He was first-hand witness to the whole situation, so he knew that there was nothing that could bring you back.

Joel said otherwise. How were you still active, after all of this time? You’d been killed years ago, and Tommy knew what he saw. He saw the woman he loved and valued most, lose the light in her eyes as she gave up the battle of staying conscious to the world.

Tommy huffed as Justified slowed down, the horse trotting his way through the woods with Tommy upon his back. The man needed some time to think about the information that his older brother had just tried to give him. Riding through the woods always gave Tommy some peace of mind.

That is, until he heard a loud gunshot ring through the trees.

The force of the noise was enough to startle Tommy and his horse, the animal immediately taking himself in a circle to run away from the direction that the noise came from. It came from deeper within the forest, the brunt of the shot bouncing around the wooded area.

A normal person’s first instinct would be to run in the opposite direction of a gunshot, but Tommy was drawn to it. Was someone else out here? How close were they? Should he sus out the situation and follow the noise?

The middle-aged man chose the latter, and gave his horse a firm boot with his heels to send him galloping into the woods. The horse wasn’t happy to oblige, but gave in due to the sheer force that was Tommy Miller.

As they raced deeper into the woods, Tommy hoped another shot would ensue so he could try and find the source. He hadn’t seen any people outside of Jackson that he didn’t know, so the situation was refreshing to him.

Tommy pulled Justified to a halt, the horse’s hooves pacing against the foliate ground as the man on his back perked up. Tommy had spotted something – something large, lying on the ground.

Swinging his legs over the saddle and landing with a silent groan, Tommy led his horse toward the thing he’d spotted. As he got closer, he noticed that his observation began to take the shape of some kind of large animal. Upon closer inspection, the animal was a deer. He wasn’t sure what kind of deer, but it was dead.

The deer had a bullet wound at the side of its head, which would’ve killed it instantly. It was a strategically placed shot for a person, so whoever had killed it must have been a good marksman.

Tommy knelt beside the animal and inspected it, one hand holding his horse’s reins, and the other trailing over the wound that the deer had in the side of its face. He wondered who’d shot and killed it. The deer only had the single wound there, so whoever shot it did it effortlessly.

A twig cracked.

Tommy’s head snapped over his shoulder, and his pupils contracted when he was met with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his face.

On the other end of the gun, a woman, no older than Tommy himself, clutched the weapon with both hands. She adjusted her fingers against the firearm as she kept the front end of the gun in line with Tommy’s eyes.

As Tommy’s eyes crept up the length of the gun and the extended arms of the person, his gaze eventually reached their face. He swallowed back a lump forming in his throat as he took in the bloody-faced woman standing before him.

You, his wife. You were alive.

As promised, a tag for @musings-of-a-rose

Another part? Let me know in the comments or reblogs :) Thanks for reading, and remember my asks are open so bombard me <3

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