#I managed to fit 5 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms

[thelastwalkingsoul]

More st sims stuff! This time, Steve's house :) I honestly spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to get this as accurate as I could so pls enjoy. (My Gallery username is LastWalkingSoul)

Steddie post | Steddie Gallery | Steve's House Gallery

(I'm stupidly proud of these lol)

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 5

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Johnny recovers slowly.

-

Fifteen minutes? Simon messages you. A flare going up in the darkness, an SOS signal even if you don’t know the accuracy of the analogy. But he doesn’t hear back from you that day.  Maybe what little luck he had left that wasn’t bad luck has run out. Maybe you realized that you had no real reason to be guilty, that Soap had stepped out in front of your car on purpose. You didn’t owe them anything. 

Simon wishes he could swallow that flare back up, eat it whole, let it burn him alive, but he can’t. Johnny needs him. 

Ever since the seizure, it’s been one bad pain day after another. The seizure itself was rough on his body, but so was how hard Soap fought afterwards, dealing himself damage that he didn’t even have the processing yet to tally up. 

Like clockwork he’s requiring those little green pills, choking them down on empty stomachs. Simon even has to break out what’s left of the sublingual morphine which they hadn’t used since Johnny first came home from inpatient rehabilitation. Only then will Johnny manage to fall into fitful sleeps wracked with nightmares and phantom pains from his missing arm. He cancels all therapy that week, hoping Johnny will return to his baseline soon. Hoping for the days he used to wish away. 

It’s hell on earth. Simon lays in bed beside him, ready to wake him from another nightmare, going on three days without sleep and he wishes that he had been the one in the helicopter instead. Wishes that it had killed him, since he can’t ever wish death on Johnny. Not ever. Not even when his boy begs for it. 

His phone buzzes, and it’s you: I’m free in twenty. Still need me?

Badly. Simon can’t remember the last time he showered. All he wants is fifteen minutes to scrub himself clean and feel human again. All he says though is: Yeah.

You appear just past twenty minutes later wearing a diner uniform. It’s cute: tight pants that hug your thighs and hips, a white button-down blouse tucked in, demarcation where your name tag used to rest.

Simon opens the door and ushers you in, somber-faced, like a pallbearer at a funeral. He goes to the bedroom door and glances in to make sure Johnny is out—there should be no waking him for the next two hours, but if there is one thing Simon has learned, it’s that God Laughs. 

“He asleep?” you whisper, lingering a healthy distance away. 

“Out like a light. I just need fifteen minutes in the shower.”

“I’ll watch him,” you whisper. Then you add: “I looked it up, by the way. What a seizure looks like. Just in case.”

Simon’s stomach drops between his knees. It takes him several heartbeats to realize that he isn’t nauseous out of any fear response, but out of sheer fucking gratitude. The feeling cuts through the fog in his mind like a knife through butter, and he feels like he sees you for the first time: your hair back away from your face, your healing bruises (and the new one on your chin), the embarrassed desperation in your eyes. You’ve latched on to Johnny too, he can tell, likely by some misguided guilt from almost hitting him with your car. But it’s there. He has a feeling that if Johnny were to take a dive off the balcony, he’d be taking you with him. 

You are completely unhinged. Borderline mad, even. Exactly what Johnny needs to keep him alive. 

“Fifteen minutes,” says Simon again before slipping into the bathroom, clean clothes tucked under his arm. When he resurfaces, only 11 minutes have passed. The military taught him everything he could need to know about thorough but expeditious showers. 

You are sitting at the dining table, having chosen the seat that gives you the best vantage point of Johnny’s sleeping figure in the next room through the doorway. Simon expected to find you on your phone, scrolling away, but it is nowhere in sight. You have sat perfectly still, watching Johnny. It would almost be eerie if he didn’t appreciate it so goddamn much. 

“We need to talk about this arrangement,” you say, clasping your hands together. You’re shaking. 

“You want out.” 

“What? No!” You both glance toward the bedroom, but Johnny snores on, in the throes of morphine-fueled dreams. When you speak again, it is quieter: “I don’t mind helping, but I can only check my phone at certain times of the day.”

This is the part where Simon asks why. But the question sticks to the back of his tongue like something unsavory. A more important question: can he afford to care why beyond what it means for him and for Johnny? The bottom line is that there will be long stretches of time where you’re unavailable. He can live with that. He’s been living with it, hasn’t he? 

“I’ll only ever need you when he’s asleep. If he knew I was letting you watch over him, he’d blow his top. I mean that literally.” Simon stands. “You want tea?”

“Tea?” You blink at him like the word does not compute. “Yes, please. Thank you, I mean.” 

“Just tea, don’t get worked up over it,” he mutters, going to put the kettle on. He needs a minute to fucking think. 

This goes against everything he was ever taught. The foundation of his personality is self-reliance, and it has been since he was a boy, since he learned that he couldn’t rely on adults for anything resembling stability. Asking for help feels like tossing up the white flag, like admitting he’s in too deep and he can’t take it anymore. It feels like failing Johnny. 

But there’s construction going on inside him. Those pillars of his personality are being torn down, and in their place something more important is being formed: a shrine to the only person who’s ever loved him that wasn’t his mother. If it’s good for Johnny, Simon must do it, even if it feels strange, even if it goes against all the strategies that have kept him alive in the past. 

When he brings tea back to the table, you try to drink it right away, scalding your tongue. 

“Slow,” Simon says. He didn’t even get the chance to offer you any milk or sugar. 

Face warm as the tea, you drink slower, tongue likely numb. The silence between you grows, adds up, and he catches you more than once looking toward the digital clock inlaid on the stove, like you are nervous and counting down the moments until you can escape. Like Simon frightens you. Fifteen minutes pass and more. You drain your cup. 

“I should go,” you say at length.

“Alright.”

“Thank you for the tea.” 

“Don’t thank me.”

You just nod and slip out of the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind you. Simon sits there for a long time after you’re gone, thinking over the arrangement. Thinking over you. 

You’re in trouble. He just can’t decide if he can afford to take on any more trouble right now. 

His tea has cooled by the time Johnny stirs in the other room, calling out for more pills. 

-

It does get easier. Tooth and nail they fight for every peaceful moment until they are able to string two of those moments together, and then two becomes three. Johnny is back to his old self—often angry, still pained, but with glimmers of the man Simon used to know shining beneath it all like diamonds under dirt. 

Therapy starts again, and so do Johnny’s tasks. 

The tasks aren’t therapy. They’re Johnny’s idea: each few days he picks a task that he used to be able to do before the accident and commits himself to relearning it. 

Today that tasks is unlocking the front door. He stands with his forehead against the oak, knowing Simon is somewhere on the other side, having heard him turn the deadbolt. 

The door has three locks. There is the handle which is the only one the apartment building originally supplied them with. There is the sliding lock, which Simon had installed on day two in the new apartment. It is only ever locked at night when both of them are home, and it is easy enough for Johnny to guide the wide end into the slot. Then there is the deadbolt, also installed by Simon, and easily the trickiest lock of all. Usually it requires the strength of two hands to unlock comfortably—but Soap’s down a hand and short on patience. 

“Jesus, get me in this apartment. Amen,” he mutters.

The key shakes in his hand as he guides it to the lock. It takes some fumbling, but he gets it after just a few moments. Then he must twist while pulling outward at the same time. It uses muscles in his arms that have grown weak with disuse. The key catches for a moment but then slides out of the lock uselessly. He pulled too hard; he did not twist hard enough. 

It’s a delicate balance, one he had perfected without even trying months ago when they moved in. Now it seems like a cruel and unusual punishment. If he can’t get this fucking door open, he’ll sleep out here, undeserving of his own bed. In his mind, the voice of encouragement does not sound so much like the calm soothing tones of Andy—his physical rehabilitation therapist—but instead the borderline abusive dialect of his superiors during his time in the military, the ones who had only ever cared about results and not much about the bodies getting those results. 

Footsteps come from the open elevator, and Johnny casts an irritated glance only to see that it is you. You are dressed for exercise, clingy clothes with running shoes and a baggy top thrown on over everything, drooping off of one of your shoulders. At the sight of you, Johnny remembers the lengths you went to to help him light his cigarette and his heart throbs with fondness, some of his anger evaporating like fog burnt off by the morning sun. 

“Afternoon, lass.” 

“Hi, Johnny,” you murmur, voice near a whisper as you cast a glance toward your own door. Maybe you are thinking about running from him. “Are you having trouble?” 

Johnny’s good mood dissipates. “No,” he lies. “Yes. I don’t fucking know.” 

“Can I help?”

“No,” he snaps. “I have to do this myself.”

“Where’s Simon?” 

“Inside.” 

“He’s locked you out?”

“Aye.” 

Your face changes. He knows you so little that it takes a moment for him to identify the expression for what it is: apoplectic rage. Your hands have clenched into fists at your sides, brows drawn low over your eyes as you glare a hole through the door. You reach out and take Johnny’s hand. He’s so fucking surprised that he drops the damn key. 

“Johnny,” you say. “You can tell me. Are you in trouble?”

“What sort o’ trouble?” 

“Simon. Is he good to you?” 

“Bastard eats my cereal and leaves the empty box behind, but aye, he’s good to me. Better than good. What’s all this about, hen? Simon locking me out? I only asked him to, that’s all—let’s me practice with the key, so I can open it on my own again,” says Johnny, stroking his thumb along your knuckles. 

You let go of him like you’ve been burned, face mortified. “Oh, God. I’m sorry Johnny. I misunderstood. Let me just—”

You bend down and retrieve the key, handing it to him. You can barely look him in the eye as you mumble a goodbye and rush past him into your own apartment, shutting the door solidly behind you. 

Johnny stares after you for a long moment, key held limply in his hand, mind far from the door. At last, he puts the key back into the lock. 

Twist, pull. 

[charmercharm3r]

okay but after reading that 9th member boxing, i need to hear more instances where the boys see her practically naked. like idk at the the gym(again), practice, around the dorm, etc. like maybe she’s getting more comfortable with showing skin but only around the boys so it still catches them off guard cause of how new it still is to all of them

a lil blurb cus I thought this was cute

Masterlist

prev: one, next: three

☆ﾟ

You were just so tired, dehydrated, and felt sticky from sweating for the past god knows how many hours at dance practice. It was just you in the practice room for a while until Hyunjin convinced you that it was time to head home. He was surprised you were even still at the company, considering it was supposed to be a rest day for the group.

The two of you headed home together, him having to almost hold you up most of the way because it felt like your limbs were going to give out any second. “You can have the shower first, you’re kinda stinky,” he teased as he led you through the threshold.

“Gee, thanks! You’re so kind.” Hyunjin smirked at the sarcasm, nudging your shoulder before departing to his room.

Living in the dorm with him, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung was usually rather quiet when 3racha were gone. Hyunjin enjoyed his alone time, as did Jisung when he was home, though when everyone was back at the same time, there was no such thing as peace or personal space.

The only thing you were glad for was finally having your own room, how the company managed to find a 5 bedroom apartment, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. Room not too small, just enough space for a bed, desk, and closet, you were comfortable.

Tossing your bag down and grabbing a clean towel, you headed to the bathroom before the rest of the members could come home.

There was a new bottle in the shower, brown and expensive looking. “Jinnie, did you get a new hair product?” You called out, picking it up to inspect.

“Yeah, I heard it was really good. Try a little if you want,” he yelled back from his room. Calling back a, "sure, thanks," you shut the door and started your shower.

There was so much on your find, you don't know how long you spent under the water. It took some time before you even undressed, looking at yourself in the mirror and examining what body part you thought might stand out for the public to talk about for the next come back. There was always something wrong, nothing you did ever felt good enough.

Sometimes your thighs were too big, sometimes your arms weren't toned enough. Oh no, you're wearing a crop top? Someone cover her up, she's seeking validation! God forbid you wear anything other than long sleeves because elbows are just too sexy. As if she doesn't get enough spotlight already being in an all male group, gotta have a part in the song a second longer than the rest because you have to be the center of attention!

Another few minutes to let the water soak down to your bones, you took your time shampooing, soaping, everything in between and taking mental notes of things you needed to improve upon. One wrong step and it's over, not just for you, but your entire group, as well. If you were to be the reason they got dragged down-

No, that's the shower thoughts talking. Probably time to get out, anyways. Changbin will have a fit if he doesn't get some warm water for himself.

So consumed in your own head, you weren't thinking when you threw on just your bra and underwear and opened the bathroom door. Dirty clothes in one hand, rubbing the towel into your hair, the trek to your bedroom through the house felt so long up until you got through the door.

The dorm was quiet, the others must still be out. Hyunjin won't show his face until dinner time, if you were fast you could grab a snack from the kitchen. Yeah, it won't take longer than a minute. Make it quick-

You padded out of your bedroom and made it a step into the living room before stopping dead in your tracks, eight pairs of eyes looking at you big with mouths dropped so wide it could catch flies.

The other members were sitting in various places surrounding the couch and coffee table. Chan scratched at his ear and darted his eyes back and forth, unsure of whether or not to look. Minho didn't seemed like he cared too much, while Jisung and Seungmin obviously raked their gaze from your head to your toes. The other four focused on different areas, but you ran away as quickly as you came with a trail of beat red embarrassment to follow.

As soon as the door slammed shut you threw your pajamas on and paced back for forth for a bit.

You should just act like nothing happened. They probably don't care. No, they definitely don't care. They're just body parts and everyone has them. But they were your body parts. For as long as you'd known them, you'd been so careful.

It's fine- they're not prudes, they're young adults that watch more porn than you ever could in your life time. They're just boys. Your boys. Your best friends. Yeah, they won't care. It's fine. You're fine. You're-

"Y/N'ie?"

A knock on your door had you stutter in your steps. When you didn't respond, the voice spoke again, "there's food here if you wanna join."

It took you another second to process what had just happened. The floor creaked on the other side and you panicked again, "Felix?"

The footsteps backtracked and stopped outside your door again, "yeah?"

"What kind of food?" He giggled lightly to himself.

"Come eat with us and you'll find out."

Slowly you came to the door, torn on hiding in your room for the next few hours or facing the eight people that caused your massive embarrassment in the first place. It felt so stupid to even feel such a way around those who you'd already been through hell and back with, the same people you've lived with and known for years and have seen you at your worst.

Felix's weight leaning against the other side of the door made him stumble forward when you finally opened it. Setting aside his momentary hiccup, he smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring into a quick hug. You let him drape over you as you made your way back into the living room where everyone else was waiting.

Quiet as you sat down between Minho and Jeongin- Felix across the coffee table, quiet as you grabbed a pair of chopstick, quiet as you began to eat. The eight of them watched you chew, chew, swallow, not moving a muscle as though they were walking on eggshells as not to scare you off.

Now you felt stupid. This was stupid. Just body parts. They're just body parts.

"Stop staring at me, virgins. Eat before it gets cold." Minho at your side dug in first, then the rest followed suit as you all enjoyed the meal together.

You could feel Jeongin taking quick peaks at you as you ate. He jolted a little when you nudged his shoulder to get him to talk. A light blush flooded his cheeks and ears, putting another piece onto your plate as he leaned in to whisper, "you looked really pretty."

"Don't spread gossip, Yang Jeongin. Share it with the table," Jisung teased and drew the attention of the rest of the members.

"Look, he's flustered. What'd you say to Y/N'ie?" Hyunjin joined in and ruffled the younger's hair.

"Nothing! It's none of your business-"

"He called me pretty," you played along and pinched Jeongin's cheek, making him swat you and Hyunjin away with a few curses under his breath. Giggling and picking up your chopsticks again, you brought some food to your mouth, "you wanna kiss me sooo bad."

All of them spoke at once, "yes."

"Wait, what?" Quiet again. What is it with them and perfectly timed silence?

When you faced Minho, he was particularly unashamed in the way he eyed your lips as you slowly chewed your food. You looked at them around the table, "ew. Bitchless. All of you," and stole a large portion of food to take back to your room.

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffi t@fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchandler @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[moo-blogging]

Nothing in my head but Levi being the perfect husband and father.

You thought you were prepared for your little one to come into your lives, but the troubles, the accidents, and the sudden outbrusts caught you off guard. You imagined the quiet, peaceful, loving hours with your newborn. But your body ached and sore, you were bleeding from under, and your baby required a lot of attention.

Soon, it had been 5 months and you finally got hold of your baby. You could recognise the cries (hungry, soiled diapers, in pain/discomfort). It took a tol on your body and mind. You loved your baby, but you weren't so sure you loved yourself anymore. Your hair was mostly oily and messy. Your clothes now dotted with patches of vomitted milk, and you were sure you permanently smell like poop.

Levi watched as you struggled with motherhood. He tried his best to help you every day before and after work. He gave you hugs every night before bed, but you almost always fell asleep before Levi could soothe you with his loving words of affirmation. Even if you managed to stay awake, you would mumble, "I had to, I'm a mom now."

It was a rainy evening that day. Levi did the dishes and you finally put baby to sleep. The house was cool. The soft patting sound of the rain falling on the roof created a relaxing melody. It was peaceful in the house. You sat on your bed, folding the endless laundry. Levi came in and ushered you to take a shower.

"Wash your hair, Y/n. I want to dry your hair tonight." Levi gently pushed you into the bathroom. You took a long shower, scrubing your skin and washing your oily hair 3 times. You finally managed to do your full facial routine and changed into clean pyjamas that Levi picked for you. You came out from the shower, feeling like a new person. You were shocked as you saw Levi had changed the sheets and lit a therapeutic candle.

Sitting in the living room, Levi was drying your hair with a towel for you as you shared a heartwarming conversation about his work, baby's day, and your future plan. Levi was supportive of you and all the decisions you decided to do. When he was done, you lifted your head and he planted a kiss on your forehead.

Levi tiptoed around the house, making sure the doors and windows were locked while you brought clean milk bottles from the kitchen into your bedroom. You checked on your baby out of habit. You felt this unexplainable warmth in your heart as you watched your baby. The same hair colour as Levi's, rosy chubby cheeks moving softly with every breath, and the small fist that grabbed onto the little blanket given by the Survey Corps.

Levi locked the bedroom door and stood with you for a while, watching the baby too. You leaned against him, your palms finding each other. Levi brushed his thumb on the back of your palm. You both exhaled with relief and bliss. "C'mon," Levi pulled you away from the crib.

You crawled onto the bed, smelling the clean sheets and calming scent of your favourite flower. The candle had burnt out, but the scent remained. Your bodies found each other naturally, like two pieces of Yin and Yang. Levi rested his chin on your head, while your face fitted perfectly at his collarbones. "You know, " Levi's voice was hoarse, he cleared his throat, "you know we haven't cuddle in months. You always fell asleep first, or you felt too hot." It was true, your hormones were a mess. And you felt dirty.

"I missed you," Levi pulled you closer. "I missed you too, Levi. I'm sorry I couldn't do better." You signed. "Don't apologise, Y/n. I have decided to take some time off from work and take care of baby with you. I want you to be able to do what you want and I want to spend time with baby too. I really want to be a father.." You knew how much Levi wanted to be the father he never had, and you appreciated how much effort he was putting in.

You tilted your head and kissed his lower chin, "thank you, Levi. You'll be an amazing dad, I know you will. We'll make this work together." Levi responded your kiss with a kiss on your nose, "can't do this without you, Y/n. Goodnight, my love."

[thollandneedy]

Shower- Tom Holland

A/n: I was listening to "Pink Matter" while writing this btw

Warnings: Nudity and very sensual

Summary: Literally Tom praising Y/n until she surrenders to his seduction game

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

“It's finally over,” Y/n grunts as she closes the door to the room where she and Thomas were staying in Seattle after an event her boyfriend was supposed to attend in connection with a new movie that was about to be released.

“I know.” Thomas walks over to his girlfriend, who already has her heels in hand to return to the stylist later. “Do you want help with the dress?”

Y/n agrees, then laughs as she nods. The brunette's steps seem to be light, and the heels of his shoes tap against the floor. Just another one of his techniques to make him look taller in the photos. Straightening his messy curly hair after a vigorous flick to undo the gel, he breathed deeply as he saw his girlfriend waiting for him, leaning on the desk in front of one of the bedroom windows.

“You, Thomas Holland.” Y/n says slowly, feeling her neck embraced by a warm breath that runs down her spine, noticing that her boyfriend's fingers were unzipping her dress. “You mean no good”

The brunette's lips found the woman's back, making smacking sounds as they were placed on it, gradually stretching out one of his arms to wrap around her waist. The sound of Seattle seemed to be much quieter than London, while the cold weather meant that the moon was covered by cold mass clouds.

“Do I mean no good?” Holland asked with a sideways smile, pulling her closer to his body, making her feel every muscle that stiffened at his touch.

“Not at all.” Y/n's voice is light as a feather, while a waterfall seems to flow between her legs. “We need to take a shower” Y/n pulls away, once again being pulled tightly by Thomas's hand, who holds her waist as if he doesn't want her to slip out of his arms.

“Of course. You stay against the wall and I'll clean you up with my tongue.” The brunette's chocolate eyes met hers. Even more than a year into the relationship, you still managed to feel intimidated by your boyfriend when he said something dirty that showed his dark side.

“I'm serious. We have to catch the 5 a.m. flight tonight, and it's already 2 a.m.” The woman said, trying to convince her boyfriend to let her go to the bathroom, which coincidentally already had the door open and the lights on because of the smart apartment.

“Me too, love. You looked so beautiful today, I could hardly pay attention to what the directors were saying. You always steal the show.” Holland put one of his hands on the woman's chin, lifting her face with one of his fingers, who smiled and looked away. “How do you do that?”

“What?” Y/n asks, observing every detail of her boyfriend. How the round black glasses fit perfectly on his face, how his smile managed to be cute and sensual at the same time, and how his jaw clenched every time Y/n pulled the sexual tension to her side.

“ This.” Thomas turns away from his girlfriend, looking at her for a second. “You leave me breathless”

“I wanted you to leave me breathless.” Y/n retorts, finally joining in with the brunette, who accepts her participation by sliding her loose dress to the floor and then kneeling down, tracing kisses between her thighs.

“Really? Like that time in New York when I left you voiceless the next day?” The vibration of his voice against her thighs makes her core throb.

“Uh-huh.” The girl agrees, sliding her hands into the curls of the man who responds by gripping his girlfriend's ass tightly, seemingly in an involuntary move to bring her closer. His underwear seems to get tighter than usual, fulfilling his need for touch through wet kisses.

“Do you know what else I wanted?” Y/n asks in a velvety voice.

“What, my princess? I'll do whatever you want.” Holland seems to be surrendered to his desires, allowing himself to submit to his girlfriend who watches him from above with burning eyes.

“That we shower.” The girl says, causing the actor to tip his head downwards, laughing to himself in comic frustration.

“Are you seriously going to do this to me?” The man stands up, while Y/n grabs the fabric of his tie, undoing it with just a few simple movements.

“I'm exhausted and so are you.” Y/n says, pulling the black tie from Tom's neck.

“I'm never tired of you, love.” Thomas insists.

Y/n nods, smiling.

He knew exactly how to get her to give up her failed games of seduction

“If you behave, I'll think about your case.” The girl walks towards the en suite bathroom, feeling the ice on the floor.

“Really?” Holland asks, turning to the image of his girlfriend in lace panties with her breasts showing.

“Come here already, Thomas.” The woman rests her hands on the door frame, while the brunette takes off his shoes in a hurry to enter the room.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 5

Part 4

to tboyeddie and kas-eddie-munson: yall are on the right track ;)

to a-blog-of-negotiable-affections: i hope this part makes your brain just as goopy as the last.

Steve closed the door to the hotel bedroom. He thought about how he'd already been fucked in this bed. Then he wondered how much longer Eddie would be in town and what sort of bed he'd be taken in next. He went to the bathroom first, checking himself over. Eddie hadn't marked him up yet. But from the way he used his teeth, Steve could tell he wanted to.

He decided to give Eddie a few more minutes to get wherever he was going. In the meantime, he undressed, got comfortable on the bed and checked his socials before getting started.

------------------------

Leaving Steve behind was probably the most difficult thing he had to do. But there was no getting out of it when his manager called a meeting like this. But he literally had a hot and ready omega waiting for him. So he was going to be diligent and knock this out so he could get back.

"Alright, I'm here", he announced, using both hands to thrust open the doors of the conference room. "You can all calm down now."

"About time." His manager had her arms crossed. Chrissy looked small and cute but Eddie only let that fool him once. She'd taken their band out of dive bars and brought them into relevance. The rest of his band was there as well, sitting around a table.

From how urgent it sounded, Eddie had a hunch this was about a future venture. Now whether it was a tour or a new album or something like that, Eddie was all for, and glad that they wanted him present for the strategy meeting. But Steve...

His phone buzzed with a text notification and he opened it, eyes bulging and closing it, looking around to see if anyone saw. Gareth was too his left, but with enough distance that he'd have to crane his neck to see his phone. Cautiously, Eddie opened it up again and swallowed.

Steve: Daddy left me all alone guess I have to play with myself Steve: image.jpeg

The picture was of Steve's mouth, his lips shiny with two fingers dipped down to the first knuckle. Eddie could tell from the framing that Steve was in bed, and at the very least shirtless. He put his phone face down but the image was burned in his head. Steve was naked in the hotel room, pleasuring himself, hopefully to the thought of Eddie.

"Got something on your mind, Eds?", Jeff asked when he noticed his strange look.

"Uh, just thinking about covers, you know, covers could be cool it's been a minute since we performed covers."

Gareth perked up. "What if we did a metal cover of a non-metal song? Those are always a hit."

Eddie smiled. They'd only done that live a couple of times but they did it a lot more before they got discovered. Between the four of them, they had varied music tastes and it was always a great creative exercise to change them to fit the new genre.

Then his phone buzzed again.

Eddie bit his lip and peeked at the new picture. This time it was of Steve playing with his chest, nipple pinched between two fingers. The last time they were together, he'd only gotten a taste of him. Eddie wanted more time to explore everything Steve had to offer. He needed more time.

The next picture came more quickly. This time it was of Steve's lower half. It started from his belly button to the very top of his crotch, those dark curls tempting before disappearing under the covers.

Eddie: Tease Eddie: I thought you said you were gonna be good Steve: I never said that

The next picture was of Steve's hand dipping under the blanket. Eddie turned his phone face down on the table again as he let his imaginations run wild. He tamped it down when Chrissy gave him a worried look. He really didn't need his pheromones stinking up the joint. If the boys knew he was mooning over the same omega as before, he'd never hear the end of it. They'd probably meet Steve soon enough anyway.

Steve: You're the one who said to keep it warm

The next image popped up but Eddie put his phone down before it could fully load, sure that it would be the end of him. Grant and Jeff were having a friendly debate on their outfits for the next show and Eddie couldn't hold back anymore. He opened up the image and was blessed with Steve's glorious, sopping cunt, spread out on white sheets.

Eddie bit so deep into his knuckle he would've tasted blood had Gareth not slammed his hands down onto the table. Eddie was glad that his friends were always so passionate about whatever adventure they were on. At times like these, it freed him from having to be an active participant.

Eddie: Behave

He tried paying attention after that. It was bad form to pop a boner and he'd get to sink into that sweet heat soon enough. He was going to knot Steve this time. He deserved it, his pussy was desperate for him and Eddie wasn't so unkind to deny him.

Now Chrissy was asking them about venues and Eddie was attentive and alert and had his head in the game and-

buzz

It was a video. Sent from Steve. Eddie sucked in a breath and quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Taking no chances, he plugged his headphones into the jack and locked the door to the stall. He saw thick, hairy legs that he was already familiar with but wanted to get to know even better. Steve sighed straight into his ears as he straddled one of the hotel's pillows.

"Wish it was you, alpha." He let out a small whine as he started to grind, no doubt getting the pillow wet.

Eddie palmed himself as he watched, wishing the same with all his might. Steve moaned, unbidden as he got himself off on the softness between his legs. Eddie pulled out his cock and it wasn't hard to imagine Steve sliding his pussy on it like he'd been trying to do to his leg earlier. He could tell by the panting that Steve was getting close and his hips moved quicker.

He moaned Eddie's name and collapsed, face still out of frame while his hips stuttered. Fuck, that pillow must be soaked. Eddie pumped his cock, just the thought of getting it wet with Steve's juices enough to push him over the edge.

After cleaning himself up, he locked the video. It was for his eyes only. He returned to the meeting, secret safe except it wasn't.

"Dude, you reek", Jeff said the moment he walked in.

"Yeah, does planning really get you that hard?", Grant teased.

"You know it does, Grant-master Flash", Eddie beamed. He shot off a quick message to Steve.

Eddie: Baby likes to put on a show hope you're ready for an encore later

Steve: 🩷

About an hour later, the meeting ended and Eddie was able to get back to Steve. He called out his name when he got to the hotel room and when he didn't get an answer, he went to the bedroom. There was his latest obsession, sleeping like an angel. Eddie walked over quietly, his nose catching the scent of the pillow Steve had used, lying next to him. Eddie buried his face in it, his tongue coming out to lick whatever was left.

Then he turned his attention to Steve. He was lying on his side, blanket only covering him from the hips down. It must have been very purposeful, because Eddie was able to see something peeking out. He pulled the cover down a bit to see a little sticky note attached to his pelvis. There was a little message, with an arrow pointing downwards.

Play with me until I wake up

Eddie could have thrown his hands up in praise. But instead, he would partake in the communion Steve was giving him.

Steve woke up from his nap to someone kissing his neck and kneading his chest. He let out a soft sigh when one of his nipples was pinched. The spicy musk of aroused alpha filled his senses.

"Eddie~", he breathed out as a hand trailed down his torso.

"I see you kept it warm for me", Eddie murmured, letting his fingers slip between his folds.

Steve was still half asleep and it made everything move like syrup in his mind. It was like an amazing dream that he didn't want to wake from. He spread himself as best as he could on his side and that gave Eddie room to start slipping his fingers inside.

"Daddy....Daddy..."

"I've gotchu, baby." Eddie started nibbling at his shoulder. "Think you can take my knot like this?"

"Yes", Steve answered right away, the remnants of sleep knocked from him at the thought of being filled like that. "Yes", he repeated, hoping it would spur Eddie on.

It got the desired result because he felt the tip of his cock rubbing up against him. Steve pushed back and Eddie pulled his fingers out, quickly replacing it with something better. Eddie meant to go slow, let them take their time because they had time. But Steve rocked back and Eddie pressed his forehead to his shoulder as he slid inside.

"Mmmmfuck, feel so good baby. So perfect for me."

"Only the best-ah-for my alpha."

Eddie couldn't let him get away. Not when he drove him wild like this. Even when he was done with this town and onto the next, he had to take Steve with him.

"Need you with me, need your sweetness. You'll want for nothing, baby, I'll give you anything."

For a split second, Steve wondered if his pussy was really that good to make Eddie babble things like that but the next moment he was certain that Eddie's dick was really that good. As it thrust into him, making wet noises in the room, Steve wanted to follow it around the world. If Eddie wanted to take him to the Arctic, Steve would be there, ready to sit on his face.

It was just as good as before, then Steve felt that knot pop in and he saw stars. Eddie bit into his shoulder as he felt Steve milking his cock. All that was missing was the feeling of actually cumming inside of him. Eddie always wrapped it up, obsessed with Steve or not. Until such a time that Steve confessed that he wanted Eddie's seed coating his insides then-

"Hey, you remember how you said we're exclusive?", Steve asked through pants.

"Yeah?"

"I'm thinking..." He craned his neck to meet Eddie's gaze from behind him. "I'm thinking maybe that means you can go without the condom."

Eddie's dick twitched from inside Steve. This man would be the death of him.

Too spent to go out, Eddie ordered them room service and Steve spent the night there again. Back at home, Steve contemplated looking up Eddie's band and learning more about them. He debated simply because he didn't know how much of it would come up. Eddie was taking him to a party. Would he be expected to know their hits? Or how respected they were in the business? Or their rivals were if they had any?

Steve couldn't help but compare this to the life he'd left behind. Being told to smile prettily while the alphas talked business. Eddie probably wasn't expecting him to know much about anything. He'd bought him a nice suit and would have something pretty to show off for the evening. That was Steve's job.

He let out a sigh and opened up his laptop. He searched up 'corroded coffin' and strapped in for the evening.

Part 6

I realized that while i've been tagging the a/b/o stuff, I never really put up a warning for the daddy kink stuff but like...yall read the title LOL

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @chaosgremlinmunson @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @greatwerewolfbeliever @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 10) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Chapter 10

The feeling of hollowness doesn’t wear off. Not through the rest of your shift at work. Not through the class on the assessment and treatment of major trauma you’re taking, although you managed to take notes that will hopefully be legible later. It doesn’t feel even slightly better until you’re home, out of sight from everyone, where you can let the mask drop. It’s hard to wear it all the time. You’re getting tired.

Inside your apartment, you look around for Tenko, but he’s not in the kitchen, the living room, or the bathroom. Maybe he changed his mind about coming back. You head to your bedroom, stripping off your work clothes and throwing them into your laundry basket as you go. You did laundry a few days ago. The basket shouldn’t have much in it. But something catches your eye, and when you peer in for a look, you see a set of black clothes that looks a little too familiar for the fact that it’s not yours.

You realize whose it is in the same second as you hear a strangled sound from behind you, and the question bursts out of you at a volume that’s probably too high. “Tenko?”

“I’m not looking,” Tenko snaps. You glance over your shoulder and find him without the model hand and with both gloved hands covering his face. “Do you just start taking your clothes off the second you get home?”

“Usually there’s nobody in my apartment!”

“I told you I’d be back. Did you not believe me?” Tenko’s still averting his eyes, but he’s lowered his hands for the purpose of crossing his arms over his chest, which draws your attention to what he’s wearing. “Why are you staring?”

You can’t stop yourself. “Those are my clothes.”

“So? They fit. I have to wash mine and I don’t have anything else.”

You do buy your sleeping clothes oversized, and the difference between your height and Tenko’s isn’t enormous, but it’s still weird to see him sitting on your side of the bed, wearing a pair of your grey sweatpants that have seen better days and a tie-dyed shirt you made in high school. It’s undeniably bizarre, but – “You look cute.”

“I’m not cute. Don’t say weird things.” Tenko’s turning red. “Are you going to put on clothes or what? I want to talk to you.”

“Just a second.” You were going to put on your pajamas, but Tenko’s wearing them. You pick out another pair, change quickly, and come back, sitting down on the other side of your bed. “What did you want to talk –”

Tenko kisses you, cutting you off. In no time at all he’s rolled you beneath him, pinning you back against the pillows while his mouth opens against yours. His kisses are messy, his hands eager as they alight briefly on your shoulder, against your cheek, molding to the curve of your jaw or gripping hard at your hip. Tenko’s breathing is uneven, almost hyperventilating. He needs to slow down.

But you remember what he said the night the League stayed over: I don’t know how to do this. You’re going to have to show me. So in spite of the fact that he’s got you pressed to the pillows and his hands are all over you, you raise your hands to cradle his face, giving you more control over the kiss. Something about it seems to agree with him. He matches your pace, the sloppiness evening out, then deepening into longer, more involved kisses. His lips split again, but in fewer places than before, you think. The taste of blood in your mouth is lighter this time.

One of Tenko’s hands slides beneath your shirt and you draw back slightly. “I thought you wanted me to put clothes on.”

“I’m not saying take them off,” Tenko insists. “I just want – come on, please –”

You’re not sure what he’s asking for. He’s not even trying to do anything. Then it clicks. “You’re touch-starved.”

“What? No.” Tenko objects instantly, but he’s not a good liar. He can’t make eye contact, and his face, flushed before, is turning darker – and as if that wasn’t enough evidence, his hands are still in motion, seeking points of contact, places to hold on. “I need to touch my girlfriend. That’s not weird.”

You try to figure out if girlfriend is a step up or a step down from sidekick. “So I’m not your sidekick anymore?”

“Of course you are.” Tenko gives you an exasperated look. “Saying I need to touch my sidekick is weird.”

Your brain supplies you with the image of any of the top ten heroes telling the world that they need to touch their sidekicks, and you start laughing. Your laughter’s a little wheezier than usual, courtesy of Tenko’s weight on you, but it feels good to laugh. It’s not like you haven’t laughed at all since Kamino, but laughing with others is different. When you laugh with Tenko, your guilt doesn’t matter. He’s guilty, too. And if it doesn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you.

Tenko watches you suspiciously. “What are you laughing about?”

“What would happen if Endeavor started his next interview talking about how much he needs to touch his sidekicks.”

“That’s disgusting.” Tenko’s expression twists, but he’s laughing, too. “Don’t bring up heroes. It kills the mood.”

“Does it?” You’re still cradling his face in your hands. You leave one hand where it is, cupping his cheek, and lower the other, tracing your fingers over the lines of his throat and running along his shoulder. Your touch is light as your fingers run down the back of his arm, avoiding anywhere ticklish until you’re touching the bare skin of his forearm. He’s thin enough that you can feel his muscles tense at your touch. “I don’t think so.”

“It does,” Tenko says. You kiss his birthmark, then his jaw, and feel him swallow hard. “It does. They ruin everything.”

Even as he complains, he’s tilting his head, exposing more of his neck for you to kiss. “It doesn’t feel like they’re ruining everything,” you say. You lift your other hand away from his forearm and slip it beneath his shirt, and he makes a sound through clenched teeth when you drag your fingers along his bare skin, just above his waistband. “You can admit it. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tenko’s body tenses, stiffens. “Admit what?”

“That making out with me is so good that even heroes can’t ruin it.”

Tenko laughs, a raspy, startled sound that trails off into a rough gasp as your teeth scrape over his neck. “I’ll admit that,” he says. His hips roll forward and you shift your legs apart so he can fit between them. “You can tell everybody. They’ll be jealous that I’m the only one who gets to –”

His hips jerk sharply. The sweatpants don’t leave anything to the imagination as far as his erection goes, and you startle at the pressure between your legs and the flood of heat that accompanies it. You pull away from kissing his neck, conscious that you’ve already left a mark, and kiss his mouth again.

His kisses devolve into messiness almost immediately, but this time you’re with him, as your priority shifts to finding a way to improve the sensation of grinding against him through your clothes. You’ve had some experience, made out with twice as many people as you’ve slept with, but you’ve never had a makeout quite as hot as this one. Tenko’s gloved hands clutch desperately at you, the needy sounds he makes muffled by your lips. You drag your fingernails the length of his spine and lift your hips up against his. Tenko whimpers, shudders. Then he pulls away.

Not just partially away, either. He’s all the way out of your grip, curled in on himself, every visible inch of his skin red. “Tenko,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What’s wrong?”

“We have to stop. Or I’ll –” Tenko makes a sharp, uncomfortable gesture. “Like some kind of –”

“Virgin?” You fill in the blank, and Tenko nods. “That’s not a bad thing, Ten.”

“You have experience.”

“Like, two condoms’ worth of experience,” you say, and Tenko snorts. He’s still too far away from you, but he’s not quite so folded up. “We can stop and do something else. Or I can make you come.”

Tenko stares at you for a second. Then he starts nodding – but just as quickly, he’s adding a caveat. “Don’t look. At my face. I don’t want –”

He’s embarrassed about his O face. You wonder if he actually knows what it looks like, or if he’s just assuming it’s weird. You can’t imagine him jerking off in front of a mirror to check. But this is workable. You part your legs further. “Sit here. Lean back against me.”

Tenko does it, and you situate yourself around him. You can’t see his expression, but you can kiss his cheek and his jaw and his neck, and your hands have free rein over his body. The urge to take your time getting to know him, to run your hands slowly over every inch of him until you know exactly how to make him squirm, is almost overpowering. But if you do that, he might come before you even touch his cock.

Speaking of that – you tug lightly at his waistband, and Tenko pulls the borrowed sweatpants partway down with shaking hands, along with the pair of clean but very old underwear he’s wearing. The first thing you note, inconsequential as it is, is that while the hair on his head is that odd blue-grey shade, his pubic hair is dark, like all his hair was when you were children. The second thing that captures your attention is his cock, hard and already leaking slightly at the tip.

You fight the urge to take him in hand immediately. You slide one hand down to his exposed hip, rubbing your thumb idly over the sharp crest of bone while making it clear where your objective really is. “Can I touch you?”

“Uh – yeah.” Tenko coughs, his voice already strained. “Yeah. Go ahead. Please.”

“I want to do this. You don’t have to say please.” You’re surprised by just how badly you want to touch him, how much you want him to fall apart in your hands, just for you, only for you. “Do you want to show me how to touch you? Or should I learn as I go?”

“You didn’t give me a tutorial about kissing. You don’t get one, either.”

“Fair enough.” You gently press your lips against the side of Tenko’s neck, then move the hand that was on his hip to fit around his cock instead.

Tenko jumps, shudders at your touch, and you move your hand cautiously, stroking the length of his shaft, swiping your thumb over the head the same as you’d do with your tongue. Tenko moans, a low desperate sound that drives a spike of heat through your abdomen, and you repeat the motion again. You kiss the side of his neck, lightly at first, then longer, lingering on the texture of the scar tissue under your lips.

Tenko’s back arches, his head falling back against your shoulder. “Faster,” he says, and you increase your pace. “Like that. More –”

He’s shaking. You feel it at every point where your bodies are pressed together. One of his hands grasps your thigh, hanging on for dear life, and you feel a sharp surge of pain, but your attention’s caught by Tenko’s other hand, still gloved, covering his mouth. You can’t let that happen. Not when he makes such pretty sounds. You peel his hand away from his mouth, press it to yours instead. Tenko gasps, shudders. His hips thrust unevenly into your hand, and he comes.

You slow down – the first time you gave a handjob, the guy snapped at you for not easing up fast enough – but Tenko shakes his head, almost frantically. “Not yet. Don’t stop –”

You keep touching him, as requested, drawing out smaller spurts of cum than the first, as he squirms and twitches and makes increasingly pained sounds. It worries you. “Tenko –”

“Stop.” Tenko’s voice breaks. He slumps back against you, his grip on your thigh loosening. “You – sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. “Overstimulation – is that something you’re into?”

“No. I just – you’re never going to do that again, so I wanted it to last.”

“Tenko –” You struggle to wrap your head around what he just said. It doesn’t make any sense. “Of course I’m going to do it again.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not,” you say. “I’d do it again right now.”

“You wouldn’t. I thought it would be okay if you didn’t look at me but then I made all those stupid sounds –”

“I thought those were really hot.”

Tenko coughs. “What?”

“I like them. I like everything about what we just did.” You’re not sure if it’s possible to overstate this, and you’re not sure how to convince him, except – “If you want to touch me, too, I can prove it.”

You’ve barely finished the sentence before Tenko’s twisting to face you, pulling up his sweatpants one-handed. You get a look at his expression before he leans in to kiss you, just enough to confirm that there’s nothing weird about it at all. He pulls at the waistband of your pants. “Take them off.”

You pull them down, leaving them hooked around one ankle. Tenko studies the pair of underwear you’re wearing. They aren’t anything special. You wonder if he’s going to comment on that, or on how visibly damp they are, but instead he reaches out, touches you through them. A second later his eyes light up. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did.” Your fingers are still sticky with his cum. You think about wiping them off on your shirt, then change your mind and suck your fingers clean, swallowing in a hurry and noting the way Tenko’s jaw drops. “I told you. It was – hot –”

Tenko sits forward to kiss you, his mouth sealed to yours as his hand presses flat against your stomach and slides beneath the waistband of your underwear. The texture of his exposed fingertips is rough enough to make you startle as they slide past your clit, but that’s not on his radar at the moment – he’s too busy probing around in the wetness between your legs, fingers brushing maddeningly close to your entrance before finally pushing inside. He starts with two fingers, not one, which is a stretch, but not quite more than you can handle. You gasp, and his lips curve into that too-wide smile against yours.

Tenko’s overenthusiastic at first, just like he was with kissing the first time, and you catch his wrist. “Slower,” you say. He nods. “Curl your fingers a little bit.”

“Like that?”

Your legs are starting to shake. You nod, and Tenko does it again, and again. His other hand yanks the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down and out of the way. With more room to maneuver, the angle of his fingers changes, increasing the pressure against the most sensitive place inside you and bringing the heel of his hand into contact with your clit every time he works his fingers forward. You’re so wet that there’s next to no resistance. His gloves are going to be ruined.

You feel hot all over. Your nipples are hard, visible through your shirt, and Tenko’s free hand is under your shirt within seconds of noticing it. He circles one of them with his thumb, then rolls it between thumb and forefinger, and the roughness of his fingertips makes even the gentlest motions all too intense. “Tenko –”

“What else?” Tenko’s eyes are intent on your face in a way that almost makes you uncomfortable. “I can do more. Tell me what else.”

“Kiss me.” It’s all you can think of, all you want, and Tenko’s mouth crashes down against yours as soon as the words have left it. You wrap your arms around his neck, take a loose grip in his hair, and stop fighting the wave of pleasure sweeping through you. Every muscle in your body clenches, tight and straining, through thrust after thrust of his fingers – and then the heel of Tenko’s hand presses against your clit for a second too long, and you fall apart, head spinning. You clutch Tenko closer, kissing him until you have to pull away to breathe.

Tenko’s fingers slip out of you, and even though you’re oversensitive to an almost painful degree, you whimper at the loss. Tenko notices, smirks – no, smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m definitely doing that again.”

It makes you laugh. “So you’re convinced?”

“Yeah.” Tenko raises his fingers to his mouth and sniffs them, then tastes them. He’s grinning when he lowers his hand again. “I’d say we leveled up.”

Your face flushes, and worse when you see how much moisture is still clinging to his fingers. “Sorry about your gloves.”

“I’ll just wash my hands.” Tenko looks like he’s never been less concerned about anything in his life. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You’re not sure your legs would hold you up, and Tenko looks a little shaky himself as he slides off the bed and heads to your bathroom. You think about putting your underwear back on, but they’re way too wet, and you throw them into your laundry basket without getting up. You still feel too warm to put your sweatpants back on, so you pull the hem of your shirt down and stretch out on the bed anyway. Tenko comes back a moment later. He looks pleased to see that you haven’t left – but then his expression sharpens. “What is that?”

You don’t know what he’s referring to. You give him a puzzled look, and he sits down on the edge of the bed, yanking your leg roughly into his lap. “These. Where did these come from?”

These – the three raw marks in your thigh, not scratches, more like burns or sores. They’re not so much bleeding as oozing. You remember the sharp pain in your leg when Tenko grabbed it, something you’d written off in the moment. “I think you. You were holding on.”

“That’s not how my quirk works,” Tenko says sharply. “It takes all five. And I can’t stop it when – it can’t have been. You’d be dead.”

“No. You’ve used your quirk on me before and I’m still here.”

“I didn’t,” Tenko snaps. “You wouldn’t be. You’d –”

He breaks off, because you’ve pulled up your sleeve. The injury to your wrist on the night you saw Tenko for the first time was healed before the sun came up, but the scar is still visible – jagged furrows in your skin, extending around your wrist from five points of contact. Tenko stares, jaw clenched, eyes wide, and you think through what you know about his quirk. It’s called Decay. It only activates when all five of his fingers make contact with something, or it’s supposed to. And based on what he’s saying now, it’s supposed to function as a chain reaction, something that can’t be stopped once it’s triggered. Except it can be stopped. He has stopped it, both of the times he’s used it on you.

Tenko’s expression twists in a way that looks agonizing. Both his hands lift from his sides, clawing hard at his neck, but only one of them stays there. The other comes up to scratch at his face instead, to yank hard at his own hair, to tear into the skin above his right eye, in the same spot as his scar. You’ve seen him melt down before, when you were kids, when he got too stressed or too upset or when something had gone wrong at home and someone had asked him about what happened. But never anything like this. It’s horrifying. You can’t just sit here and watch.

“Tenko, stop. Please.” You keep your voice calm, even as it shakes. You catch his wrist with both hands, ignoring the hand scratching his neck in favor of dealing with the one that’s tearing at his face. “You don’t need to do that. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tenko doesn’t answer. His eyes are glazed, and he’s fighting you, stronger than you. His neck is bleeding. Soon his face will be, too, unless you keep his hand away. You keep talking, senselessly. “You don’t have to hurt yourself. Please don’t, Tenko –”

One of his nails bites deep into the side of his neck. Too deep. A spurt of blood comes up, and something in your mind snaps. You let go of his wrist with one hand and cover the marks on his neck, taking his scratches on the back of your hand instead. His blood is hot against your palm, and you fight down a surge of panic. You can’t stop him. He can hurt himself badly, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You don’t even know why he’s this upset. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Whatever it is, it’s not worth –”

Tenko lurches away from you, tearing completely out of your grip, and stumbles to the bathroom. A moment later, you hear him retching. You don’t waste time thinking about what to do next. You get up and chase after him.

The last time you followed him when he was trying to get away from you, he hurt you. This time he’s in no condition to hurt anyone. He’s on his hands and knees vomiting on the bathmat, blood staining the collar of his shirt. The instant the vomiting stops, Tenko slumps forward, and you barely manage to pull him back in time to stop him from going face-first into the mess. He’s almost completely limp when he falls against you. You keep his head and shoulders elevated in case he throws up again and struggle to come up with a plan.

If a patient at the clinic melted down like this, you’d stabilize them and maybe call an ambulance. Stabilizing Tenko is well within your abilities, but you have no idea where this reaction came from, whether it’s within the range of possibilities for him or it came completely out of nowhere. Does that even matter as far as treating him goes? No, you decide. It doesn’t.

You were just learning about treatment for major trauma tonight. You start by checking Tenko’s breathing and heart rate. He’s hyperventilating and his pulse is fast, his skin pale. His eyes are open and his pupils are dilated. The biggest injury to deal with is the claw mark on his neck. You yank a towel off the bathroom counter with one hand and press it against the side of his neck, trying to contain the bleeding, then reach up again and turn the sink on cold. Once it’s as cold as it’ll go, you cup your hand, fill it with water, and splash it into Tenko’s face.

He startles in your arms, tries to lurch upright. “What –”

“It’s just water. Your heart rate’s really high, and I’m trying to bring it down. Cold water activates the diving reflex. That’s all.” You do a better job keeping your voice calm this time. Tenko doesn’t need a quirkless sidekick or a terrified girlfriend right now. He needs a medic. “Your neck is bleeding. I want to fix that before we do anything else. Is that okay?”

Tenko doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t try to get away from you, so you take that as a yes and drag your first-aid kit out from under the sink. Bandaging the wound effectively without letting go of him is difficult, and you’re still watching his heart rate. It’s higher than you want it to be, but not as bad as before. You keep talking, explaining everything you’re doing, not asking  for or expecting any response. You don’t know what triggered this. You need to keep him stable.

By the time you’ve got the wound on Tenko’s neck bandaged, he’s shivering. You’d get him to bed immediately, but his clothes are a mess, and soaked with cold sweat in the bargain. “Let’s get up and get changed, okay? It’ll just take a second.”

Tenko gets to his feet ahead of you, then offers you a hand up. You take it but get up under your own power, and as you do, you see that the gloves are a total loss. You’ll have to figure out something else. You lead Tenko over to your closet, switching out everything he’s wearing for your largest, most comfortable clothes. The only thing you can’t replace is the underwear, and the gloves. Tenko stands there, eyes blank, unmoving but for the shivers, while you try to think of a solution. His quirk is in his fingers, right? Only his fingers. What if you cover them?

Bandaids and medical tape. You cover Tenko’s ring finger and little finger, first on his right hand, then on his left. Tenko doesn’t protest, warn you against his quirk, or offer to help. He just stands there, lifeless, until you link your little finger with his and lead him over to the bed. He gets in on your side without being prompted, then looks up at you. “Are you coming?”

His voice sounds awful, but at least he’s talking again. “In a second,” you promise. “I just need to clean up.”

Part of you is hoping he’ll be asleep when you get back, but the rest of you knows better than to hope for that. You rinse the bathmat out in the shower, then carry it to the washing machine, along with all the clothes in the laundry basket, including everything Tenko just took off. Then it’s your clothes, and while you’re starting the washing machine, you notice the scratches on the back of your hand.

Those need cleaning, too, along with the marks on your thigh. You give up on putting on pants, change into a clean shirt and underwear, and detour to the hall closet for your pocket first-aid kit. The big one is too much for this.

Tenko’s voice follows you. “You’re leaving.”

“No,” you say. On second thought, you need to bring other things, too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and set it down on the bedside table. Then you sit down on the other side of the bed, over the covers. “I’m right here.”

Tenko doesn’t answer, but when you open the first-aid kit, he turns toward the sound. “What are you doing?”

“I just need a band-aid or two.” You regret the words instantly when Tenko sits up. “No, I’m fine. Just rest.”

“I did it.” Tenko’s voice is dull. “I’ll fix it.”

You shouldn’t let him do it. He needs to rest. But if he wants to do things, if he’s doing things under his own power, maybe you shouldn’t stop him. You lift your hands away from the first-aid kit and let him poke through it on his own, working awkwardly around the band-aids covering the tips of his fingers. Tenko starts with the marks on your leg, cleaning them clumsily. When he speaks up, he says the last thing you were expecting to hear. “I should have killed you.”

Your stomach drops. “What do you mean?”

“My quirk doesn’t stop. I can control what I touch, but once it activates, I can’t stop it. When I touched you then, I should have killed you. I should have killed you tonight. Just like I killed them.”

Tenko’s voice is flat, emotionless. Are you in danger? You don’t think so, but there are two questions running through your mind, and you ask the more immediate one, not the more important one. “Did you want to kill me? Tonight or then?”

He threatened to kill you the night you met him again, and it would have been easy for him to follow through, but he didn’t. Tenko shakes his head mechanically. “I never wanted to,” he says, and the relief you feel shames you into silence. “I didn’t want to kill Mon, either.”

You remember Mon. You loved Mon, just like Tenko did – less than Tenko did, because Mon was his dog. You can’t imagine Tenko hurting Mon. But you found what was left of Mon in the wreckage of Tenko’s house. And although you’ve seen the effects of Tenko’s quirk before, you’ve never seen, start to finish, what happens when he uses it on a living being. A terrible thought builds in the back of your mind, gaining speed and power. “Tenko, what do you mean?”

“I wondered if you’d guessed. You never said it, so I thought maybe you had.” Tenko smears Neosporin over the first rotted fingerprint in your thigh – too much Neosporin, just like before. “What happened to my family – I did it. It wasn’t some villain. I’m the one who killed them.”

You didn’t know. Not consciously. But even though the thought’s just occurring to you, it doesn’t feel like a surprise. If a villain had killed Tenko’s family, the Tenko you knew would have wanted to avenge them. But he’s been focused on All Might, on society, not on some other villain. The only way that makes sense is if he knew who it was already, if he’d dealt with them already – or if the person who did it was him.

It’s silent in your apartment. You’ve been silent for too long. “You didn’t know,” Tenko concludes, and you shake your head. “You know how to say things right. Tell me what it means.”

It’s not that you know how to say things right, it’s that you know him. You know how his mind works, know where the connections break, know how to piece it back together. “Your quirk doesn’t stop once it’s activated, but it stopped with me,” you say hesitantly, and Tenko nods. “You didn’t want to hurt me. But you didn’t want to hurt Mon, or – or Hana –”

Hana was your friend, too. Tenko’s loss crushed you so badly that you barely mourned her. “And you couldn’t stop your quirk with them,” you say. Tenko nods again. He’s been trying to open the same band-aid for the last thirty seconds. “You were five years old, Tenko. Nobody can control their quirk that young.”

“Try again.” Tenko doesn’t look up from the band-aid. “If I didn’t kill you and I killed them, then – say it.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“No.” You’re not going to do this. You’re not going to buy into this idea someone planted in Tenko’s head that he killed his entire family on purpose when he was five years old. You can picture what happened that night in your mind’s eye – how he would have reached out to someone for help, how he wouldn’t have realized until it was too late, how quickly things would have spiraled out of control. “I know what you want me to say. And I know you. So I won’t.”

“Sensei said –”

“He didn’t know you.” The words leave your mouth with more venom than they should. “Not yet. Not that day. I did.”

You remember it so well – not because it was different than any other day with your best friend, but because it was the last day, because you went over every detail of it in your head until it was etched into your memory forever. You’d swapped lunches – he liked the awful onigiri your mom made, and you were always after the expensive snacks his grandma bought. You’d played heroes at recess and kept the game going on your way home from school while Hana walked ahead. Tenko was All Might, again, and that day you were Sir Nighteye, All Might’s sidekick who could see the future.

Nobody knows how Sir Nighteye’s quirk actually works, so you had to make it up, and you made up so that you had to touch the person to see how their future would play out. No matter how many times Tenko tried to get you close to the villain, it never worked, and on the way home, you came up with the perfect solution. “All Might,” you called out, and Tenko turned to look at you, deadly serious. “Give me your hand!”

He held it out, and you seized it in both of yours. “I can’t see his future, but I can see yours,” you said, and the brightest, widest grin crossed Tenko’s face. “You’re going to win.”

“We’re going to win. I can’t do it without you,” Tenko said, in his awful All Might impression that always made you laugh. You let go of his hand, but he didn’t let go of yours. “Tell me how we do it.”

You didn’t mean to, but you held his hand the rest of the way home, while you described the battle with the arch-villain, how it was going to be close but how Tenko would win. You needed to hold on, or you’d lose sight of his future. The two of you were just getting to the good part of the fight when you reached your street, your houses. You were disappointed, and so was Tenko. “Can’t you come over? You have to finish telling me so we can play for real tomorrow.”

You wanted to. You always wanted to, and that day more than ever, because you were holding Tenko’s hand and he hadn’t let go yet, even when you tried to. Even if it was just for the game, you didn’t want it to end. “I could ask –”

But you couldn’t even get the sentence out of your mouth before your mother shouted from across the street. Your name, followed by a brisk order. “You had all day to play around! Get in here and help me!”

Your throat closed up, but you didn’t want to cry. Tenko’s grip on your hand tightened. “We’ll play tomorrow,” he promised. He smiled. Not the All Might smile – the real one, the one that the people he saved were going to see someday and believe in, the one that said everything would be okay. “Keep looking at my future. Tell me how we win.”

“I will,” you said. Your mother shouted again. You squeezed Tenko’s hand and let go. And then you turned, looked both ways, and ran back across the street to your mother.

That was the last time you saw him for fifteen years, and everything might have changed between then and the first time you saw him again, but it can’t change the truth – Tenko’s master didn’t know him then. You did. So you know for sure now.

Tenko can’t hold your gaze. “You’re not right about this. He chose me. He knows.”

“Then we disagree. Nobody ever said we have to agree on everything.” You can’t push too hard. Not tonight. “Maybe you’ll win and convince me one of these days. Or I’ll win and convince you.”

Tenko’s mouth twists, turns down at the corners. He turns his back. “Don’t look.”

You move the first-aid kit out of the way and scoot closer to him, pressing yourself against his back as you wrap your arms around him. “I’m not looking.”

You hold him like that for a long time, not flinching when his hand grips your wrist again, when his palm flattens against the back of your hand to pin it to his chest just over his heart – and when he turns back in your arms, his eyes are clearer than they’ve been since he saw the marks on your leg. He looks exhausted. “Get some sleep,” you tell him. “I’ll be right there. I just have to finish this.”

The marks on your leg still need to be bandaged, and the scratches on the back of your hand are deep enough that you should cover them, too. Tenko shakes his head. “I did it. I’ll fix it. Aftercare, right?”

You smile in spite of yourself. “Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He’s faster at it this time around. He covers the fingerprints on your leg with too much Neosporin and a giant band-aid, then slaps a sterile pad down on the back of your hand and secures it messily with gauze. “Don’t do this again. If I want to tear my own skin up –”

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you get hurt. Even if you’re doing it to yourself.” That’s not up for negotiation, at least not tonight. “Come on. If you want to cuddle, we’ll be more comfortable lying down.”

Appealing to Tenko’s touch-starvation seems to be a winning strategy. As soon as you’re both under the covers, he crawls into your arms, halfway on top of you with his face buried in your shoulder. You hang onto him tightly. Not so tightly that you can’t free one hand to play with his hair, and Tenko makes a sound. You wouldn’t call it contented, but he’s not as tense as before. What he says is muffled by your shoulder, and it comes completely out of left field. “I’m not going to do that every time we hook up.”

You almost laugh. “I know.”

Like he did last night, he falls asleep quickly. You don’t, or can’t. Half of you is scared that if you fall asleep, you’ll wake up to Tenko gone, snatched out of your grip again by All For One. It’s a stupid thought. All For One is in Tartarus, under twenty-four-hour guard – but Kurogiri follows his orders over Tenko’s, and if Kurogiri came for Tenko, there would be nothing you could do. Nothing except hold on tight, and make sure that you and Tenko went wherever he was going together.

Part of what’s keeping you up is fear. The rest is fury, the kind you can barely contain, aimed at a single target. You don’t have a clue about most of what All For One did to try to erase Tenko and replace him with Tomura, but you know the first thing – convincing him that he killed his family on purpose. Tenko’s pursuing the vision of someone who’s tried to destroy him, who’s thrown him into a battle he can’t win. And you’re supposed to help him do it.

You can’t stomach that, but maybe you don’t have to. You don’t have to be loyal to All For One’s vision or to Tenko’s efforts to follow in his footsteps. You just have to be loyal to Tenko, and that’s easy the way breathing is, as unconscious as blinking. After all, you’ve been doing it your whole life.

[piratesfromspace]

What happens in Siberia… (141xReader)

Pairing: Reader x Ghost x Soap x Price x Gaz Rated: Very Explicit Word count: 2.7k Summary: the squad celebrates your first successful mission in their own way. Note: This is just pure filth, just bring me to horny jail at this point. In the same universe as my "Rain or Shine" fic. Reader callsign is "Rain", she's bi and autistic (I am autistic myself). Inspired to finish this wip by the queen @yeyinde and her Body Electric, go read it.

Content: group sex, oral, p-i-v, praise kink, size kink, alcohol, probably some warcrimes, overall canon typical violence

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 2 // <> // PART 4 // PART 5

They are at the end of the world. Far East. Miles and miles of snow and ice and the occasional patch of dark trees. It’s just the five of them: Price, Soap, Gaz, Ghost and her.

They've been hiking for days now. Camping along the way, never really leaving their heavy gear. All-white winter jackets and pants, the gray of the kevlar vests, the black of their weapons. The blizzard makes everything blur. The cold - deadlier than any heat - numbs the fingers and the senses. 

They're used to the humid furnace of the jungle, the burning sun of the desert, but the freezing temperatures of Siberia are seriously undermining their mood. It was the only way to discreetly reach the compound of this Russian oligarch they need to steal intel from. The mission was simple enough : reach the damn place, eliminate everyone in a surprise attack, find the hard drive with the info in it and wait for evac. Simple. The difficult part was getting there without being killed by the cold or the beasts living in those damned icy woods. Soap swears he saw a wolf the size of a jeep. Or maybe it was a bear. Hard to tell when you have to wear a ski mask so your eyeballs don’t freeze in your skull. 

When the 141 strikes, they sweep the place clean. The handful of guards don’t stand a chance against them despite the weariness of the travel. They had found an entrance in the sewer system, reached the basement and its concrete walls, but when they climbed to the higher levels of the building, they suddenly found themselves in an imitation of a luxury cabin. Warm wood, white furs thrown on sprawling beige sofas, a fireplace big enough for a child to stand in it. A chef kitchen. Half a dozen bedrooms with king size beds and ensuite bathrooms.

The place is stocked for literal orgies. Champagne and vodka and cocaine - and the drawers in the bedrooms are full of condoms and lube. The kind of place rich assholes spend their winter vacation in when they go skiing in the Alps. It fits with what they know of the owner.

Once they secure the hard drive, and make sure nobody else is alive in there, they all stagger to the living room with a palpable relief. Evac will be there in a little less than 48 hours. Two whole days in Nowhere, Siberia, with nothing else to do except rest in this 5-stars chalet after days of miserable trek in the snow.

“I really need a shower” Rain mutters, and she makes a beeline for the main suite. Ghost follows without a word. When it’s just them and the core squad they don’t bother to hide anymore. It was Rain's first field trip as not just a supply manager. Of course they had her at the back of the group when they breached the building, Ghost the first to break in as usual. She did not even have to fire a single bullet. But she went in with her gun tightly clutched in her hand and her night vision goggles on nonetheless. 

They are doing shots. Tsarskaya vodka, straight from Saint Petersburg. The hot meal has been the best she had in months thanks to the freezer of the pantry being full of stupidly expensive delicacies. Price, Gaz and Ghost are sprawled across the sofa, Soap and her are sitting on the plush fur carpet. They’re all down to cargo pants and T-shirts, a blessing after days in those heavy and cumbersome jackets. She could cry at the relief of feeling something else than the wooly inside of her gloves under her fingertips. Her limbs still ache from days of fighting the cold and sleeping on the ground, but the fatigue has been somewhat dulled by the vivid memory of Simon’s tongue between her legs when he dropped to his knees during the shower she took earlier. Her back is warmed by the fireplace, her belly is full and she still feels a bit light-headed from the fight. She wants nothing more than to indulge in the playful atmosphere and the many promises of those two full days of rest with her squad.

“A toast” Price starts, raising his vodka “to Rain - for her first mission accomplished!”

“Please Captain, you make me sound like a damn rookie. I’ve been in the team for a year now. And I’m older than Soap for fuck sake!” 

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

The easy banter goes on, more vodka burns her throat, she bares her neck and laughs - and Ghost’s eyes narrow with a glint. 

Nah, I tell you, you're still a rookie. Oh yeah? I bet you could not think of something I haven’t done that MacTavish has. Easy, you never killed. Not because you never see me do it means I didn’t do it before. (there is a silence)  Let’s lighten the mood… ‘bet you never kissed a girl. Come on, I’ve had more girlfriends than you, Soap.  Never had a threesome?  I did once back in college. Why, you’ interested, Gaz? (it’s a joke - but also not really)

It lasts for a while until Soap grins victoriously.

“You never kissed me.” he beams, even though it doesn't really make sense for the little game they’re playing. She’s too tipsy to care.

“If that’s the only thing to shut you up.” and she leans into him, grabs his thigh for balance and just like that - she kisses him. Her tongue breaches his lips and she can taste the vodka they’re drinking and the sugar of the russian caramel they had for dessert. The kiss lasts only a couple of seconds, but Soap is glass eyed when she sits back down. 

Price lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Rain...”  “Thank you, Captain.”  “John for tonight” “Thank you, John.” she whispers, tone low and suggestive. “I’m gonna get more dessert!” she announces all of a sudden - she had always craved sugar - and she bounces to the kitchen, leaving them all a bit stunned. 

Price glances at Ghost. For once, he has no clue how he will react. To his girl openly flirting with others, to his girl initiating something they won’t be able to come back from. 

“She decides.” Simon’s voice is even more gravelly than usual. “You follow.” he asserts, and that’s all the instructions they will get from him. It’s clear enough though - she’s the one in charge from there, Ghost trusts them to do as she says, and he trusts her to ask for what she needs.

When she comes back, she sits down next to Soap, leans heavily on him. He brushes her hair out of her pretty face, and she looks at him with intent, daring him to continue what they started. It’s like she provides him with a pool of gasoline, and hopes for nothing more than a spark to light it all and let the fire consume them both - and by a chain reaction consume them all.

He doesn’t resist and kisses her again. She lets him. She even moans against his lips when he grabs her nape. It’s like the match has been cracked, it’s too late now. No coming back from that. The flames are already spreading. Gaz falls on his knees behind her, strong hands on her waist, his mouth against her earshell.

“Is this okay? ‘This what you want?” She breaks the kiss just enough time to answer a breathy yes.

The rest is a blur. Someone removes her T-shirt, lays her down on the fur. Expensive vodka poured into the divot of her navel.

“It’s cold!” she protests with a laugh until Gaz laps the alcohol from her skin with a gaze so sinful it warms her right up. 

Ghost is right there by her head, a hand spanning her neck, holding her jaw. Through his mask, he whispers sweet praises to her, walking her through it. Soap is playing with her tits, teeth grazing the gentle curve of her breast before his latches on one of the tender buds. Gaz is laying on his belly, tongue buried in her cunt. She’s still sensitive from what Ghost did just before during their shower, but Gaz is different in his approach, he takes his time, goes slow, licks her clit like they’ve got all night (they have). 

He sinks one finger into her then a second. “Fuck she’s tight.” He exhales against her folds, half-wonder, half-worry. “Let me do it.” It’s Price - he’s been hovering around them all, carefully observing, waiting for the right time to step in. It’s not that easy for him, he’s their Captain, even though he had the intuition to forbid her to use his title earlier. But if they’re going to do this, he wants to do it right - right by her. He won’t let her be hurt on the battlefield, no reason to stop caring for her now. 

He takes Gaz's place between her legs.

“Open your mouth for me darling.” he croons and he coats two of his fingers with her saliva, presses on her tongue and rewards her with a good girl when she licks at the rough pad of his fingers. Price sinks into her cunt again, gently fucks her with two fingers, scissors her open with an infinite patience. Gaz pets at her clit, circles slow and wide, not enough for her to come, but definitely enough to make her forget the burn of the stretching process. 

They take turns making her shatter to pieces only to carefully rebuild her after. Soap takes her in long lazy strokes, before guiding her lips on his cock and she can taste herself on him - it’s enough to make her whimper around his flesh. Price maneuvers her on her hands and knees, grips her hips with large hands, fucks her in powerful thrusts and drown her in praises.

You’re so fucking pretty like this You tell me if it’s too much Fucking hell, you feel so good

She keens and laughs as she comes for the third time of the night. It’s a lot but they don’t stop, not as long as she welcomes them. Not as long as the embers of her desire are still shining gold. Gaz has her ride him on the couch, Ghost holding her waist to help her get up when her legs become too shaky. They work as one, just like they did hours before. They take care of each other in so many ways, it was just a matter of time before such a night would happen.

Ghost is finally shedding the last of his gear - he’s naked except for the mask. The flames of the fireplace frame his devilish figure with an unnatural glow - an Angel of Death, covered in so many scars he looks like he’s been to Hell and back a few times. Muscles rippling fat and strong under his skin, light trails of blond hair leading down to his leaking cock. Rain is not the only one to stare, but she’s the only one he sees, and when she pleads his name, he drapes his body over hers.

One of them has brought back lube from one of the bedrooms. Simon coats his length in the shiny liquid before burying to the hilt into her cunt. Despite the fair share of preparation, she’s still panting at the sudden pressure. Her little pained whimper has them suddenly on high alert. But Simon is handling her with the confidence she can take it, he offers shallow trusts and reassuring words until the burn of the stretch turns into blistering pleasure.

He brings her legs on his shoulders, his arms the size of her thighs, and if she already appeared small compared to the rest of them, Ghost is dwarfing her. Soap is mesmerized by it, how Simon’s dick fits inside her despite the absurd size difference. Ghost moves again and the change in position has him hit that spongy spot hidden just behind the bone of her pelvis that makes her moan and whimper. Johnny had already dreamed about it, imagined it, heard it from the other side of a door, but actually seeing her lips part around cries of pleasure under his lieutenant, it makes his cheeks burn even more than when he was the one hitting the end of her soft cunt.

He’s taken out of his trance by Rain’s pleading voice. Please Johnny she begs - and she begs so pretty he would do anything she asks him - and she catches his hand and brings it just where Ghost and her are connected. When he presses on her clit, she arches off the sofa, and when he keeps rubbing in time with Simon’s thrusts, she comes so hard she drenches his whole hand. 

There is a pause in the non-stop sex, someone presses a glass of water to her lips, another digs his fingers into the muscles of her back. She closes her eyes and sighs in contentment, lulled by the soft crackling of the fire and the satisfied groans of her lovers. She thinks they’re all sated, but it’s her Captain - no, it’s John - that cups her cheek and asks oh so gently will you have me again, sweet thing?

How can she say no when he talks to her like this? She’s raw between her legs, delicate flesh all swollen and still wet, and she will regret it tomorrow - will she?. She nods, and he moves her back down on the pile of throws. His rough hand on her delicate neck, he feels the warm pulse of her life - he has her life between his hands everyday, tonight is just more literal. What did he think would happen back when she appeared on base for the first time?

Despite everything, she had survived her first few months with them, had embedded herself so far in their team, she is impossible to remove now. The men foolish enough to try would have to step through their fire. It was inevitable, actually. The squad swore to do anything to protect each other, and it’s even more obvious with her. One could mistake it for machismo, the reality is they do their best to understand what it’s like for her to live in this world made of ongoing threats - coming not only from their enemies but also from the other soldiers they sometimes share their missions with. The revelation that she had killed before - before them - is no real surprise for Price. He’ll ask her more, maybe, when the time is right. When the place they’re in will be no more than ashes and smoke, white and gray and covered in fresh snow.

When they are done, nerves raw and skin too sensitive to the touch, it’s her captain who carries her under the shower, letting the water soothe the last of their fever. Once he’s sure she can still walk, he reluctantly lets her go. She needs to be alone, needs to reset away from their eyes. You alright sweetheart? Was it too much? - Price is suddenly anxious, the pungent bile of doubt pooling under his tongue. Her temples burn, she’s a bit ashamed of what she’s about to say but here in a place that no one knows about and that will vanish from the surface of the earth, she feels like she can admit it, that her secret will be safe, thrown out in the blind blizzard of Siberia. It was perfect.

She steals the largest T-shirt discarded in the living room - Simon’s - before crashing into one of the beds. Ghost materializes by her side, like a cryptid she can’t quite get rid of even if she wanted to. He glues himself to her back. Check-ins and praises whispered in the icy black of the night.

Fucking hell, you were so -so good. Are you okay pet? Didn’t know you had this in you.

She finally falls asleep just as the foggy glow of dawn starts creeping up the dark sky. They still have one whole day and one whole night before packing up and dowsing the place in gasoline, before cracking a match and watching it burn. They’ll make the most of it.

NEXT PART

[fluffansmut]

🙊

Eddie Munson x crybaby!fairy!reader

Fairy’s first Christmas- December 23

Secrets.

Advent calendar | masterlist

🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊

Eddie tried to sneak away several times that day…

He figured he’d manage to wrap them whilst you finished your breakfast, so he excused himself to go the bathroom, but went into his bedroom instead to get wrapping.

He had just about dug out a box that would fit all of it when he headed the familiar flutter of wings and you calling his name.

So he shoved both the box and the bag containing the presents in under his bed.

“What are you up to?” You asked curiously as you landed on his knee.

“I’m looking for my socks.” He lied.

You looked at him confused and then pointed to the sock-drawer.

“What’s wrong with the socks you have on,”you then asked as Eddie began to search through the drawer.

“Uhm, they’re sweaty” he lied.

You casted a strange look towards him… cause who would get spontaneous foot sweat late December?

Eddie had suggested a movie day in hopes that you’d fall asleep.

You almost had too, twice actually but each time Eddie tried to leave you woke startled and he had to lie about where he was going.

Hence why he had been stood in the bathroom for 5 minutes doing nothing once and why you were now enjoying munching on mini marshmallows (cause that was the only snack Eddie found in the kitchen that Wayne hadn’t strictly “reserved” for Christmas.

Lastly Eddie simply had to say it like it was.

“Baby?” He began carefully.

“Yes?” You said, rubbing you hands together to get rid of the sugary residue.

“I have a secret” he said.

“Can I know what it is?!” You asked excitedly.

“On Christmas Day” he said and watched how your expression morphed into a pout instantly.

“I need 5 minutes to be able to wrap the gift and then we’ll do exactly what you want okay?” He pleaded.

You thought it over… pouted a bit more.

“Mkay then… but it’s not fair that I can’t see” you said.

“You wouldn’t even give me a clue on my present!” Eddie said.

“That’s not the same!”

[neathdarkwcters]

🌱 fri & sat, aug 9 & 10 / days 5 and 6 of my productivity challenge! most of my productivity on friday was work assignments and getting used to the new office. saturday is my chore day, so i'll be doing alot of cleaning now that i'm done back to school shopping. i spent all of friday with my best friend catching up as i've been off my usual social media 💏 they got a new phone, so i taught them how to use some of the apps i use for managing my time & moods as we have similar mental health challenges.

if anyone struggles with alexithymia or other phenomenons that dull your emotions, i really suggest How We Feel. you can have an accountability partner but still keep any notes/reflections private from them! i also use finch for my daily to-do's and notion as my planner.

🫑 completed tasks yesterday & today

read more of my therapy assigned readings

lots of work assignments!

set up my new desk & organizer

🍉 left over tasks & stuff for today

read for fun!

biking? or maybe HIIT instead - some kind of fitness

replace cat litter

put laundry away

🥑 tomorrow's tasks

bathroom deep cleaning

clean bedroom floors

wash sheets

plan next week

[rainmustfallts4]

♢ DovahSims Legacy Challenge ♢ (Gens 1-50)

♢ Introduction

Hello and welcome to my Skyrim Legacy Challenge! I’ve really wanted to make a legacy challenge lately and Skyrim was on that list because it’s one of my all time favorite games. It’s actually one of the top five games I’ve logged the most hours into – thousands of hours. But fear not, you do not have to be a fan of the game or have even played it to tackle this legacy challenge. All are welcome! c:

I did my best to keep this challenge in line with Skyrim while also exploring nearly everything there is to do in the Sims 4. With that said, I’ve used pretty much every pack, excluding most kits. If you don’t own that pack, you can simply skip that generation or change it to fit the packs you DO have. I spent 5 days working on this challenge and managed to reach 100 generations. The reason it’s so long is because I wanted to make this for the Legendary Legacy Achievement.

I’m currently testing out this challenge myself so, if you get farther than me and run into any problems or find something extremely difficult/impossible to complete, feel free to skip it. Please let me know, though, so I can edit this challenge as needed. If you have any questions, concerns or comments, feel free to leave a comment on WordPress, message me on Tumblr, or DM me on Discord (AnnoyingTiger888.) I’m most likely to respond on Discord, though.

Most importantly, have fun! There’s no point to doing a challenge if you’re not having fun, ya know? 🙂

Oh, I almost forgot to mention that I have a google document if you’d prefer to use that instead! I hope you’re ready because, once you hit that read more button, you’re in for a LONG read and a LOT of scrolling haha

NOTE: I had to break this into two parts because it was too long for Tumblr lol You can find gens 51-100 here.

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♢ Changelog

10/9/24 - changed gen 1 - 15k requirement is now 5k

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♢ Generation 1: the escaped criminal

Your luck has finally run out and you’ve finally been caught after years of successfully evading the guards. You’re sure your life is about to come to an end but it seems you had one last bit of luck tucked away in your pocket. Managing to escape with both your head and your freedom, you decide to finally give up on your criminal ways. Life is hard, however, and you have nothing to your name but the rags on your back.

Traits: Maker, freegan, perfectionist

Aspiration: Master Maker

Skills: Handiness, fabrication

Career: Freelance crafter

Goals:

Make at least 5,000 simoleons via woodworking & fabrication.

Live in Oasis Springs your whole life.

Build a house with at least one bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room.

Have only one child.

Never marry and never have another sim move in with you.

Max handiness.

Max fabrication.

Complete aspiration.

Build your own furniture or dumpster dive for them.

Learn all woodworking schematics and unlock them.

Visit Forgotten Grotto.

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♢ Generation 2: the traveling merchant

You grew up watching your parent struggle to survive in this harsh land. Despite the hardships they faced, your parent worked hard to make money and provide a good life for you. As thanks, you want to help them out by selling their goods across the land!

Traits: Family-oriented, outgoing, glutton

Aspiration: Any

Skills: Charisma, comedy

Career: None

Goals: 

Never stay in one world for more than a week.

Buy and use a tent every time you travel to a new world.

Make at least 500 simoleons using a sales table in each world.

Max charisma.

Reach at least level 4 comedy.

Settle down in the last world you visit before getting married.

Have a child before settling down.

Have a child after settling down.

Unlock the frequent traveler lifestyle.

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♢ Generation 3: the treasure seeker

Traveling the world with your parent, watching them break their neck trying to make money taught you two things – you didn’t like not having a set home and you certainly didn’t like being broke. Instead of trying to earn an honest living like them, you plan to get rich quick by exploring dangerous locations to take treasure from the dead!

Traits: Self-assured, active, slob

Aspiration: Jungle Explorer, Archaeology Scholar

Skills: Archaeology, Selvadoradian culture

Career: None

Goals:

Max archaeology.

Max Selvadoradian culture.

Complete the omiscan artifacts and treasures collection.

Become a skeleton at least once.

Have at least one child with a fellow adventurer (someone you meet in Selvadorada.)

Complete jungle explorer.

Complete archaeology scholar.

Gain ability to summon skeleton and befriend him.

Kill a skeleton with jokes.

Collect all stone lotus and dolls from Selvadorada.

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♢ Generation 4: the farmer

Your parent made a decent fortune diving into dangerous tombs and temples, selling every item they found. That life just isn’t for you, though. Just the thought of being stuck inside a dark cave, surrounded by creepy crawlies makes you want to throw up. You yearn for a simple life, surrounded by plants that can’t harm you.

Traits: Neat, squeamish, vegetarian

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Skills: Gardening

Career: Gardener, Botanist

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Make at least 8,000 simoleons selling crops on a sales table.

Grow at least 20 unique plants.

Eat only food made with stuff you’ve grown.

Your lot should have the simple living trait.

Complete aspiration OR career.

Max friendship with at least two chickens.

Own at least 2 goats.

Max relationship with bees.

Graft a cowplant.

Become a plant sim.

Grow a forbidden fruit tree.

Awaken patchy and wear his outfit until you’ve maxed your relationship.

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♢ Generation 5: the bounty hunter

Tending plants all day is awfully boring and it’s just not the life you want to lead. You learned young that defending people against criminals is the way you want to live. After fighting off thieves who tried to steal from your parents, you decided to start training to become a bounty hunter.

Traits: Good, active, unflirty

Aspiration: Discerning Dweller

Skills: Logic

Career: Detective

Goals:

Have at least three kids & have triplets.

Finish aspiration.

Max detective career.

Max logic skill.

Successfully arrest at least 5 different criminals (must be convicted via interrogation.)

Marry a coworker.

Complete void critters collection.

Do not befriend anyone with the evil or kleptomaniac trait.

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♢ Generation 6: the companion seeking a cure

You’ve always loved helping others and, having been born quite strong, this tended to be an easy task for you. You became a secret agent to use your skills for good but, when you were sent to Moonwood Mill on a mission, you were turned into a werewolf and everything was taken from you.

Traits: Noncommittal, loner, active

Aspiration: Cure Seeker

Skills: Fitness

Career: Secret Agent

Goals:

Reach level 4 in your career before going after Greg in Moonwood Mill.

Become a werewolf.

Get fired from your job, get kicked out by your step-parent (whom you hate.)

Move to Moonwood Mill with 0 simoleons.

Learn all moonpetal recipes.

Catch and grill a lunarfish.

Have a child with a werewolf before curing yourself.

Have a child after curing yourself.

Have a pet dog that you are best friends with.

Have the dog have puppies.

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♢ Generation 7: the companion seeking power

In your opinion, your parent is dumb. They had so much power yet they gave it all away without a second thought and now they want to take it away from you, too! Furious, you decide to right their wrong, becoming a werewolf that terrorizes everyone you meet.

Traits: Slob, mean, active

Aspiration: Wildfang Renegade

Skills: Fitness, 2 others

Career: None

Goals:

Have a negative relationship with parent.

Turn at least 10 sims into werewolves.

Break up a marriage by turning one sim into a werewolf and keeping the other as a prisoner in your basement (your heir will have a child with the hostage, keep this in mind.)

Complete aspiration.

Reach at least level 5 in fitness.

Have at least 5 children with 5 different werewolves.

Find and read Greg’s diary.

Spar with your pack and win 5 times.

Fight non-pack members and win 5 times.

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♢ Generation 8: the companion seeking peace

Your parent has given werewolves a bad reputation, making sims flee in terror at the mere thought of them. You want to right their wrongs and bring peace to both races, making life just a bit more peaceful for everyone.

Traits: Outgoing, family-oriented, good

Aspiration: Emissary of the Collective/Zen Guru

Skills: Wellness

Career: Any

Goals:

Fight with your parent and win.

Free the hostage and have a child with them.

Move out so you can live closer to the collective (or move in with them but control only your sim.)

Max the wellness skill.

Complete Emissary of the Collective.

Complete Zen Guru.

Marry and give your partner a fertility massage before having kids.

Open a wellness center and give at least one of each massage.

Become best friends with one of the puppies from your grandparent’s dog.

Unlock the scavenge perk and find the moonwood wand (each generation should keep this until you reach gen 12.)

Befriend the leader of both factions.

Find and read every werewolf book.

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♢ Generation 9: the thief

You never had the same sense of peace that your parent has. While they saw the good in the world and wanted to create peace, you saw only the bad. Why should others get to live these great lives when you’re stuck in a dump like Moonwood, just barely scraping by on whatever your parents can get from their wellness business. You know what you want and you’ll take it without fear or regret.

Traits: Kleptomaniac, party animal, self-absorbed

Aspiration: Any

Skills: Dance, mischief

Career: None

Goals:

As a teen, run away from home and move in with your grandparents.

Steal at least 8,000 simoleons worth of stuff.

Break into 50 different houses and steal something from each one.

Attend 5 different parties or events.

Reach at least level 8 dance.

Reach at least level 8 mischief.

Move to San Myshuno as a young adult.

Have a child and when they become a teen, get “arrested” and disappear.

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♢ Generation 10: the guard

You grew up watching your parent steal from others without an ounce of shame. You witnessed the sadness and frustration of their victims. It never sat right with you and you wanted to do better, to be better, so you decided to join the military in order to stop people like your parent.

Traits: Proper, loyal, active

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante

Skills: Bowling, knitting, fitness

Career: Military, Law

Goals:

Max military career.

Spar with 5 other sims.

Join the law career and become a judge.

Complete aspiration.

Max bowling skill.

Reach at least level 8 in knitting then knit a toddler onesie for your child.

Reach at least level 5 in fitness.

Knit a sweater for each member of your family.

Knit a cozie for your mailbox.

Experience the sweater curse and break up with your partner.

Create and wear the forbidden sweater.

Display all military metals.

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♢ Generation 11: the mage of practical magic

You’ve always had a love for magic, whether because of the neighbor who often practiced late at night or because of the magic books you found at school. Either way, you knew you wanted to learn how to harness the magical arts to make life easier. The problem is that you had no idea how to start! When you finally make it to college, your roommate just so happens to be a spellcaster.

Traits: Practice makes perfect, neat, cheerful

Aspiration: Perfectly Pristine

Skills: Cross-Stitch

Career: Any

Goals:

Learn all practical magic spells and befriend that sage.

Use only practical magic.

Learn the ultimate practical spell.

Use the moonwood wand.

Befriend a spellcaster while at college (they don’t have to be a student, just be on campus.)

Later marry this spellcaster, have a child, then get divorced but stay friends.

Have a mop for a broom.

Have a Snub-Nosed Leaf Bat familiar.

Find a new partner and have another child.

Complete aspiration.

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♢ Generation 12: the mage of untamed magic

Though you can also use magic, you’re jealous of your sibling’s power. While you can only use one school of magic, your younger sibling can use all three. They seem so perfect, as if they can do no wrong, and it’s clear that they are the favorite child. You’re determined to make your family regret underestimating you!

Traits: Perfectionist, self-absorbed, jealous

Aspiration: Spellcraft & Sorcery

Skills: Flower Arranging

Career: Any

Goals: 

Learn all untamed magic spells and befriend that sage.

Use only untamed magic.

Learn the ultimate untamed spell.

Kill at least 3 sims with inferniate.

Use a classic wooden broom.

Have a hex doll as a familiar.

Do not use a wand (they won’t accept you.)

Reach milestone 3 of your aspiration.

When your parents become elders, kill them with flowers.

Adopt your sibling and become enemies.

Never marry.

Have one child with a sage.

Die from overload while heatedly dueling your sibling (because they found out what you did.)

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♢ Generation 13: the mage of mischief magic

Raised by your aunt/uncle, you always felt as if they were keeping something from you. They didn’t want you to be a spellcaster and tried to raise you as a normal sim, but magic was in your blood and you refused to let them keep you down, so you practiced in secret.

Traits: Creative, slob, lazy

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief

Skills: Mischief, mixology

Career: Any

Goals: 

Learn all mischief spells and befriend that sage.

Use only mischief magic.

Learn the ultimate mischief spell.

Have a raven as your familiar.

Duel for and use a crystal broom.

Duel for and use the wand of the elemental.

Max mischief.

Reach at least level 5 in mixology.

Complete aspiration.

Have one child with a partner who dies before the birth.

When your child is a teen, find a new partner who has a bad relationship with your child.

Be cursed by the night wraith and add him to your family.

Break his curse and bring him back to life then fall in love with him.

Have a child with and break up with your partner to be with him.

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♢ Generation 14: the survivalist hunter

Ever since you were young, you’ve preferred nature over the big city you grew up in. You weren’t fond of other sims, preferring the company of animals instead. And so, when you become of age, you move to the woods where you learn to live off the land, befriending as many animals as possible on the way.

Traits: Loves outdoors, lactose intolerant, animal enthusiast

Aspiration: Angling Ace, Outdoor Enthusiast

Skills: Fishing

Career: Fisherman

Goals: 

Max fishing.

Catch 25 unique fish.

Befriend 10 different animals.

Eat only food you catch or harvest.

Adopt at least two stray animals.

Live off the grid in a tent.

Complete insect collection.

Marry someone you meet in Granite Falls.

Unlock the outdoorsy lifestyle.

Unlock the technophobe lifestyle.

Befriend the hermit and add them to your household.

Handwash all your clothes.

Complete one or both of the chosen aspirations.

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♢ Generation 15: the lady of restoration

You don’t like seeing people in pain and you realized at a young age that you just want to help heal others. Though your parents were sad to see you go, they supported you as you studied hard to attend college.

Traits: Generous, neat, romantically reserved

Aspiration: Self-Care Specialist

Skills: Wellness, herbalism

Career: Doctor

Goals: 

Earn a biology degree.

Move to world of your choice.

Complete aspiration.

Max the doctor career.

Learn and make the soothing skin balm.

Marry a co-worker.

Adopt one child and one teen.

Have a child soon after adopting.

Have a good relationship with all of your children.

Donate at least 5,000 to charity.

The adopted teen should die.

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♢ Generation 16: the necromancer

While your parent was obsessed with preserving life, you became obsessed with the cold embrace of death. What happens when a sim dies? What waits beyond the veil for us all? These questions grew in your mind after witnessing your older sibling die. Now, you’re not only determined but you’re obsessed with finding out the truth.

Traits: Erratic, gloomy, paranoid

Aspiration: Villainous Valentine

Skills: Medium, mischief

Career: Paranormal Investigator

Goals: 

Move into a haunted house.

Max the medium skill and purchase the brave trait.

Have a graveyard out back with at least 10 sims you’ve killed.

Befriend 10 different ghosts (including Guidry.)

Give your soul to a spirit in your home.

Complete 3 beginner, 3 adept and 3 expert paranormal gigs.

Woohoo a ghost.

Give 5 different ghosts a gift.

Max out relationship with the grim reaper.

Have a child with Bonehilda.

When the child is born, send them to live with their grandparents.

Become a ghost when you’re child is a teen and move in with them.

Collect the 3 spector jars.

Using a voodoo doll, toy with death 5 times.

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♢ Generation 17: the jarl

Like your grandparents, you want to help others. Though, you decide to take a different path to doing so. Instead of healing others, you want to lead and guide them. You’re confident that you were born for the job!

Traits: Outgoing, insider, ambitious

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Skills: Charisma, research & debate

Career: Politician

Goals: 

Complete aspiration.

Complete career.

Max research & debate.

Have at least three children.

Buy or build your own mansion for your family and your sibling’s family.

Unlock all club perks and items.

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♢ Generation 18: the seeker of knowledge

All of your life, you’ve adored learning new things. You didn’t always stick with those things, but you still enjoyed the experience of getting there. To you, knowledge is the most powerful thing in the world and you want to share everything you learn with the world.

Traits: Ambitious, overachiever, bookworm

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Skills: Any

Career: Education, Professor

Goals: 

As a child/teen, join the scout career.

Earn all scout badges.

Get a Psychology degree.

Complete aspiration.

Tutor sims at least 5 times.

Complete career.

Max at least three different skills.

Marry someone who attends the college.

Have at least four children.

Read at least 5 non-skill books.

Befriend both school mascots.

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♢ Generation 19: the bard

To you, music is the essence of life. You can’t stand being forced to read musty old books, something your parent does not approve of. They want you to be more than a bum on the street playing the guitar, but that life sounds like a dream to you. All you want to do is make music and share it with the world, even if that means leaving your home and living on the street.

Traits: Creative, music lover, romantic

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Skills: Singing, guitar/piano/violin

Career: Simfluencer

Goals: 

Play at least once at every bar/club in every world.

Earn at least 2,000 in tips.

Max the singing skill.

Max at least one instrument skill.

Complete aspiration.

Reach fame level 2.

Marry a fan.

Unlock a living statue costume and busk for simoleons on Sundays.

Write and Record at least 10 different songs then publish them.

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♢ Generation 20: the adventurer

Music is cool and all, but you can’t imagine yourself surrounded by people in a stuffy bar as you strum on a guitar. You want to get out and experience the world, searching for thrills and adventure. You just want to have fun!

Traits: Adventurous, loves outdoors, bro

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast, Mt. Komorebi Sightseer

Skills: Rock climbing, skiing, snowboarding

Career: Any

Goals: 

Move to Mt. Komorebi.

Max at least two of the given skills.

Unlock the adrenaline seeker lifestyle.

Complete both aspirations.

Get crushed by a vending machine and survive.

Complete simmies collection.

Date and have kids with a local.

Marry at the festival of lights.

When you have kids, hire a butler to care for them.

Have a distant relationship with your kids.

Collect all spirit dolls.

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♢ Generation 21: the shopkeeper

A simple life is the life for you. Your dream has always been to open your own shop, providing wares for the people in your town. Perhaps this dream helped to fill the lonely hole inside of you, left by parents who were never around. Either way, you’re determined to leave Mt. Komorebi and make your dream a reality! You won’t let your dream get in the way of showering your kids with love, though.

Traits: Family oriented, dog/cat lover, lovebug

Aspiration: Super Parent

Skills: Parenting, nectar making

Career: Salaryperson

Goals: 

Collect all voidcritter cards.

Always visit the festival of youth as a kid.

Participate in the voidcritter hunt and find all ten.

Have a dog and go on at least one hike with them.

Complete career.

Max out parenting skill.

Max out relationship with your kids.

Own a 5 star store.

Max nectar making.

Earn at least 1,000 selling nectar at your store.

Fall in love with and marry a customer.

Have at least three kids.

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♢ Generation 22: the alchemist

It all started when a spellcaster showed up at your parent’s store. You were working on your homework when he offered you a potion of nimble mind. It was amazing, making it easier to understand the work before you. You befriended this spellcaster and began to study under them, wanting to become the best alchemist in the land!

Traits: Clumsy, goofball, cringe

Aspiration: Purveyor of Potions

Skills: Mixology

Career: Culinary, Mixologist

Goals: 

Learn alchemy only (no spells unless absolutely necessary.)

Max friendship with 1 sage and 2 spellcasters.

Learn all potions and make each one at least once.

Use each potion at least once.

Be cursed at least once through potion making.

Complete aspiration.

Take over your parent’s store and sell potions.

Earn at least 5,000 selling potions.

Max mixology skill.

Buy the mixology guide when the prompt appears.

Learn and create the Snaggle Fluster.

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♢ Generation 23: the dawnstar museum

With so many amazing items in the world, how could you possibly part with any of them? As a child, you often helped your parent gather materials for their potions, but it broke your heart to part with them. You want to collect everything you find, hoarding them in your basement like a dragon hoarding treasure. Who cares that you’re working 2 dead-end jobs? You refuse to sell even a single one.

Traits: Childish, geek, nosy

Aspiration: The Curator

Skills: Any

Career: Any part-time

Goals: 

Never sell anything you collect, not even duplicates.

Have a room displaying everything you collect.

Own a rental property with two or three apartments.

Rent a room to a vampire and befriend them.

Complete MySims Trophies collection.

Complete Axolotls collection.

Complete Fossil collection.

Complete Frog collection.

Have 2 part-time jobs.

Have a child with a renter.

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♢ Generation 24: the dawnguard

One night, you were awoken by a loud noise. Upon checking, you found your parent being attacked by the vampire staying down the hall! Suddenly, your parent no longer remembers who you are and kicks you out of the house. A few days later, you parent dies suddenly and the vampire takes over the property. Filled with rage and determined to get revenge, you plan to wipe out every single leech you meet.

Traits: Family-oriented, paranoid, hot-headed

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Skills: Fitness, piano

Career: Any

Goals: 

Move to forgotten hollow and decorate your house with a garlic wreath, braid and garland.

Max vampire lore.

Must become enemies with every vampire you meet.

Win at least 8 fights against vampires.

Win 2 fights against vampires using garlic.

Beat Vlad in a fight (if he’s still alive.)

Kill 2 vampires.

Cure 2 vampires with the vampire cure drink.

Fall in love with a vampire immune to the sun or garlic (you think they are a sim.)

After dating for an entire season, you realize vampires aren’t all bad.

Become a vampire and have children.

Reach at least level 5 fitness.

Reach at least level 5 piano.

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♢ Generation 25: the good vampire

You adored hearing the story of how your parents fell in love and how your sim parent learned that not all vampires are evil. Your vampire parent has always been loving to you and you want to show the world that not all vampires are bad guys. You want to prove them wrong and increase the relationship between sims and vampires!

Traits: Outgoing, good, dance machine

Aspiration: Good Vampire

Skills: Photography, vampire lore, piano

Career: Lifeguard

Goals: 

Always ask before drinking from someone or use plasma packs.

Read at least two vampire tomes.

Create some Sunlight Reversal potions and enter the lifeguard career, night time schedule.

Reach the top of the lifeguard career.

Earn the people person lifestyle.

Max the photography skill.

Complete aspiration.

Be best friends with 2 sims and 2 vampires.

Become best friends with the Vatore siblings (if alive.)

Marry a vampire.

Bake a cake for Vlad (if he’s still alive) as an apology for your parent’s actions.

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♢ Generation 26: the evil vampire

You do not agree with your parents at all. Vampires are clearly superior in every single way to all other lifeforms yet your parents have tried to teach you that all people are equal. It infuriates you so you decide to show the world how powerful vampires can truly be!

Traits: Evil, hot-headed, unflirty

Aspiration: Vampire Family

Skills: Pipe organ, vampire lore, cooking

Career: None

Goals: 

Have a negative relationship with all family members.

Become best friends with Vlad (if he’s alive.)

Turn at least 10 sims into vampires.

Have at least 10 enemies.

Have no friends (except for Vlad.)

Max vampire lore.

Max pipe organ.

Kill at least 4 sims with pufferfish nigiri.

Keep at least two sims in the basement to feed from.

Have at least two children with Vlad (if alive. if not, choose someone else.)

Complete aspiration.

When your heir becomes a teen, die from sunlight.

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♢ Generation 27: the lover

For as long as you can remember, you’ve just wanted to feel loved. Loved by your parents, loved by your friends, loved by your siblings and, most of all, loved by someone who you would spend the rest of your life with. Your only goal in life is to find that person and you’ll do so no matter what it costs!

Traits: Jealous, romantic, lovebug

Aspiration: Romantic Explorer, Soulmate

Skills: Romance, baking

Career: Social Media

Goals: 

Move to Tartosa or Ciudad Enamorada.

Unlock the hungry for love lifestyle.

Complete the romantic explorer aspiration.

Complete the soulmate aspiration.

Max romance skill.

Bake something for each date you go on and gift it to them.

Have 4 kids.

WooHoo in every single location.

Find the Ring Bear and complete his quest.

Add the Ring Bear to your household, marry and have a child.

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♢ Generation 28: the gourmet

While your parent was hungry for love, you were hungry for good food! More specifically, making good food. Cooking was your art and you wanted to share that with the world by becoming a world-famous chef.

Traits: Foodie, perfectionist, creative

Aspiration: Appliance Whiz, Master Chef

Skills: Cooking, gourmet cooking

Career: Culinary

Goals: 

Master the appliance whiz aspiration.

Master the master chef aspiration.

Reach the chef branch of the culinary career.

Unlock the coffee fanatic lifestyle.

Max gourmet cooking.

Feed an excellent quality meal to a celebrity.

Never marry.

Become a 5 star celebrity (by cooking.)

When your child becomes a teen, be “murdered” by pufferfish nigiri.

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♢ Generation 29: the not-so-nord

After the death of your parent, you’re sent to live with your aunt/uncle in Mt. Komorebi. They’re extremely protective of you, not allowing you to go out without them. This mixed with the annoying snow that you’re forced to trudge through everyday forces you to run far away from them.

Traits: Lazy, bro, socially awkward

Aspiration: Beach Life

Skills: Fishing

Career: Salaryperson, Diver

Goals: 

Live with your aunt/uncle in the Kiyomatsu district of Mt. Komorebi.

Sneak out at least 2 times as a teenager.

Reach level 5 of the Salaryperson career then quit.

Run away to Sulani and live off the grid.

Get a job as a diver.

Unlock the heatproof trait.

Unlock the sedentary lifestyle.

Complete aspiration.

Marry a merfolk, have a child.

Become a merfolk, have another child.

Complete underwater photos collection.

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♢ Generation 30: the storm call

Mother nature has been more of a parent to you than your actual parents so you decide to dedicate yourself to her by cleaning up her islands.

Traits: Loves outdoors, child of the islands, child of the ocean

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Skills: Any

Career: Conservationist

Goals: 

Max mermaid and unlock all perks.

Unlock the storm chaser perk.

Unlock the heat proof perk.

Unlock the cold proof perk.

Complete the sea shell collection.

Complete the buried treasure collection.

Complete career.

Clean up Sulani and unlock the turtle hatching event.

Befriend a regular dolphin and an albino dolphin.

Attend and participate in every single Sulani event at least once.

Max friendship with an island elemental.

Have a child with an island elemental.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 31: the shout of slow time

Your parent taught you the beauty of the world around you. They taught you to slow down and appreciate what mother nature has to offer instead of being a mindless zombie rushing through life. You want to share this love with others through your art.

Traits: Creative, loves outdoors, art lover

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Skills: Painting

Career: Painter

Goals: 

Paint every emotional painting.

Max painting skill.

Max painter career.

Paint something from every single category.

Earn fame level 2 from selling paintings.

Use the sketchpad and paint from reference for the scenery around Sulani.

Marry someone you met at the museum/art gallery.

Have at least four kids.

Buy a unicorn after the heir is born (you can buy a regular horse and edit them in CAS if needed.)

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 32: the steed

Without horses, where would the world be? They help with so much within this world, from companionship to transporting the very paintings your parent makes. You dream of being the best horse breeder in the land but, first, you have to make a name for yourself.

Traits: Horse lover, rancher, ambitious

Aspiration: Championship Rider

Skills: Riding

Career: Any

Goals: 

Move to Chestnut Ridge with the family horse.

Never sell the family horse and max out relationship.

Max riding skill.

Complete aspiration.

Own at least four horses with good relationships.

Breed and sell at least 5 horses.

Earn gold on a Ranch Animal Day event.

Max the temperament horse skill.

Max the agility horse skill.

Max the jumping horse skill.

Max the endurance horse skill.

Have the family horse give birth and have your heir befriend one of the foals.

Earn all horse competition and ultimate horse champion trophies.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 33: the innkeeper

After spending years helping your parent raise and deliver horses, you’re ready to head out and chase your own dreams. With your horse at your side, you find yourself in a new town with a dream of owning your own inn!

Traits: Outgoing, foodie, materialistic

Aspiration: Five-Star Property Owner

Skills: Charisma, cooking, handiness, juice fizzing

Career: Handyperson

Goals: 

Move to a new town.

Max friendship with your horse.

Own a rental property with at least four rooms for rent.

Complete aspiration.

Max juice fizzing.

Repair everything that breaks instead of replacing it.

Complete every maintenance event.

Keep a buffet table stocked inside for guests.

Your lot should have the maintenance troubles lot challenge.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 34: the librarian

Growing up in an inn, you’ve heard loads of stories from adventurers and travelers. You would always gather around the fire, listening with bated breath as they told tales of different locations, climbing mountains or fighting off vampires. For a time, you could lose yourself in their tales and forget about the boring life you lead. You know you don’t have what it takes to be an adventurer like them, but that doesn’t mean you can’t keep getting lost in those tales!

Traits: Bookworm, kleptomaniac, lazy

Aspiration: Any

Skills: Any

Career: Any

Goals: 

You may only steal books.

Steal at least 10 different books.

Collect every book in the game.

Read every book in the game (until it says reread.)

Your entire house should be filled with bookshelves.

Befriend and ask a werewolf to move in so he can find the Moonwood books for you.

Read every child book to your child.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 35: the author

You grew up surrounded by books, your parent reading to you almost every night. Though you adored the stories you heard, you yearned for more. The stories were great, but they always lacked something that made them the perfect story. You searched for years until you discovered the writing skill at school. After that, you realized you could write your own stories, filled with everything you love!

Traits: Creative

Aspiration: Bestselling Author

Skills: Writing

Career: Writer

Goals: 

Write a book from every genre.

Write 4 books dedicated to 4 different ancestors in your tree.

Earn 50,000 from published books.

Write the book of life and bind it to your child.

Complete aspiration.

Complete career.

Max writing skill.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 36: the explorer

Growing up reading the tales written by your parent, you learned of a distant land far from your home. To you, the place sounded like a fairytale that you wanted to experience. As a child, you had dreams of what this land might be like and, when you finally grew up, you immediately left home to find and explore this new world.

Traits: Outgoing, child of the village, clumsy

Aspiration: Fount of Tomarani Knowledge

Skills: Singing, photography

Career: Any

Goals: 

As a child, complete the marbles collection.

Move to Tomarang.

Complete aspiration.

Max photography.

Reach at least level 5 singing.

Unlock all Tomarang Lore.

Marry a local.

Have at least two kids.

Camp at the tomarang cove every weekend.

Complete the tassels collection.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 37: the serpent

The tight-knit community you grew up in was suffocating and made you feel ill. You hated how friendly everyone was and you hated how everyone knew everything about you and your family. Is a little privacy really so much to ask for? Because of this, you spent most of your teen years locked away in your room or hiding in the woods, looking for precious gemstones.

Traits: Geek, socially awkward, loner

Aspiration: Crystal Crafter

Skills: Gemology, video gaming

Career: Any

Goals: 

Reach at least level 5 gemology.

Be a goth/wear a lot of black your entire life.

Have no friends.

Unlock the junk food fiend lifestyle.

Reach at least level 5 video gaming.

Make at least 5,000 selling your jewelry.

Plant and grow 2 gem trees.

While out collecting gems, meet your future spouse (optional: with the outgoing trait.)

Move in with them and have a child. Your relationship should be neutral with them and steadily declining.

When the child ages up to infant, get into a huge fight over your unwillingness to socialize. Break up and be forced to move back in with your parents.

Create and keep charged Jade and charged hematite jewelry.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 38: the dragon aspect

Like your parent, you gained a love for video games but, unlike your parent, you don’t want to live life as a shut-in. You want to share your passion with the world and be a famous content creator!

Traits: Genius, geek

Aspiration: Computer Whiz, World-Famous Celebrity

Skills: Programing, video gaming, media production

Career: Video Game Streamer

Goals: 

Complete computer whiz.

Complete world-famous celebrity.

Max programming.

Max video gaming.

Max media production.

Create, edit and upload gaming videos.

Create your own game called “Dragon Aspect.”

Own a small pet (rat, hedgehog, bubalus, or hamster.)

Max career.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 39: the khajiit

You can’t explain it, but there’s just something about cats that makes you genuinely happy. Who needs a well-paying job or dreams for the future when you have cute little furballs in front of you just begging for attention?

Traits: Cat lover, green fiend, cringe

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals, Lord/Lady of the Knits

Skills: Knitting

Career: None

Goals: 

Befriend only cats.

Fill your house with cat-themed items.

Have a room dedicated to the cats filled with toys, cat trees, etc.

Adopt at least 5 cats.

Make at least 5,000 by selling knitted goods on plopsy.

Have the cat hangout lot trait.

Knit a sweater for each of your cats.

Max knitting.

Knit a grim reaper toy and gift it to him to reset your age.

Complete both aspirations.

Marry a fellow cat lover.

Complete feather collection.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 40: the shout of animal allegiance

Like your parent, you grew up with a deep love for animals. Unlike your parent, though, your love extended far beyond just cats. You adore all of mother nature’s creatures and you want to befriend them and help them thrive.

Traits: Loves outdoors, animal enthusiast, perfectionist

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Skills: Veterinarian

Career: None or Part Time

Goals: 

Move to Henford-On-Bagley.

Open your own veterinarian clinic.

Max veterinarian skill.

Own one of every animal, including the small animals from Pet Stuff.

Max friendship with all of your animals.

Complete aspiration.

Have the wild foxes, cat hangout and dog hangout lot traits.

Max friendship with the birds.

Max friendship with the rabbits.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 41: the emperor

Being surrounded by animals, forced to labor away taking care of them was a miserable life for you. You wanted to be famous. You wanted your name to be known far and wide and, more importantly, you wanted to put on a performance that would shock everyone who saw it. Who needs world peace when you have a stage presence this strong? Now if only you could stop falling over…

Traits: Self-absorbed, clumsy, recycle disciple

Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress

Skills: Acting, charisma

Career: Actor

Goals: 

As a child/teen, join the drama club and reach the top.

Move to Del Sol Valley.

Complete aspiration.

Complete career.

Max acting skill.

Max charisma skill.

Befriend a 1 star celebrity.

Befriend a 5 star celebrity.

Have a fling with a fan that doesn’t work out but produces a child.

Marry a fellow actor/actress and have two more children.

Visit Strangerville with your partner and return home infected.

Have one pet that’s friends with your heir.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 42: the unrelenting force

When your parents return home from their honeymoon, you immediately realize something is off about them. They’re acting strangely, something that seriously worries you and your siblings. Concerned that they may never recover, you decide to head to Strangerville yourself and find out what happened to your parents. Nothing will stop you from curing them! But first, you might as well take a nap. Can’t solve mysteries on an empty tank.

Traits: Genius, freegan, lazy

Aspiration: Strangerville Mystery

Skills: Logic

Career: Scientist

Goals: 

Move to Strangerville with the family pet.

Max relationship with family pet.

Complete scientist career.

Complete microscope prints collection.

Complete aspiration.

Max logic.

Defeat the mother plant to cure your parents.

Marry a local and have a child.

Freezeray at least one Man in Black.

Have twins.

Create the wormhole generator and attend the alien party.

Cheat on your partner and have a child with an alien met at the party.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 43: the infected

Your parent told you stories of the mother plant and how vicious she was. You heard about the strange things happening in Strangerville and how your parent slayed the mother plant in order to save the town. You’ve always been told that curiosity killed the cat, but you believe cats have 9 lives for a reason. Unable to stop your curiosity, you sneak out. With a bizarre fruit, you’re determined to revive her.

Traits: Ambitious, genius, socially awkward

Aspiration: Any

Skills: Juice Fizzing. gardening

Career: Any

Goals: 

Max juice fizzing.

Make bizarre juice and gift it to at least 10 different sims.

Host a party and serve only bizarre juice.

Infect 10 different sims with the bizarre juice.

Max relationship with the mother plant and ask for a life extension.

Have a basement garden of bizarre fruit, keep the door locked.

Have a child with someone who is infected.

Infect at least one vampire.

One day your parent discovers this garden and the two of you fight.

Your parent destroys the garden before facing the plant alone.

When your parent is killed by the mother plant, you regret your actions and become a shut-in, never leaving your home.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 44: the killer

You’ve heard the stories handed down through the generations. You’ve heard of all the dumb choices your ancestors have made. You’re sick and tired of this mundane world so you’ve decided it’s time to bring it to its knees. It’s time for you to sharpen your daggers and teach this world a hard lesson!

Traits: Evil, mean, erratic

Aspiration: Public Enemy

Skills: Mischief

Career: Criminal

Goals: 

Kill your parents and take their money/sell their stuff.

Obtain a villainy degree.

Deface one of the statues on campus.

Complete aspiration.

Complete career.

Every sim you meet, you must be mean to.

Have at least 5 enemies.

Kill at least 10 different sims.

Reunite with a college roommate and woohoo (try for baby several times) before killing the roommate.

Convince sims to join your household and kill them off with each death type.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 45: the clear skies

Your parent has killed off most of the population, leaving the world a dark and lonely place. You want to escape their iron thumb and try to atone for the horrors they’ve inflicted upon the world. In order to do so, you do the only thing you can think of – you’re going to leave this planet behind and find a new world to call home. It’s not something you can do alone, though, so you decide to join the resistance.

Traits: Good, genius, practice makes perfect

Aspiration: Paragon of Hope

Skills: Rocket Science

Career: Astronaut

Goals: 

Max rocket science.

Complete career.

Build a rocket ship and fully upgrade it.

Complete space rock collection.

First, visit sixam and meet an alien whom you woohoo with (try for baby several times.)

The alien baby will be your heir.

Complete the space alien collection.

When you return home and discover you’re pregnant, your parent is pissed. Become enemies.

After you give birth, have a fight with your parent.

Leave again, this time landing on Batuu.

Complete aspiration.

Meet a local and marry before having two kids.

Fight your parent once more and be killed by them.

Befriend both Vi and Rey.

Have a white or purple lightsaber.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 46: the shadow

Though your parent was more than happy to help out the resistance in exchange for their help against your grandparent, you were less inclined to care. Their battle was of no concern to you, you just wanted to survive and look out for yourself and your siblings. Despite being the middle child, they often looked to you for guidance since the passing of your parents. This was hardly the place to make an honest buck, so you’re more than happy to make a dishonest one.

Traits: Self-assured, kleptomaniac, loner

Aspiration: Galactic Privateer

Skills: Mischief, guitar

Career: None

Goals: 

Complete aspiration.

Max guitar skill.

Reach at least level 5 mischief.

Steal at least 10,000 in items.

Complete lightsaber parts collection.

Have a one-night stand with a local as a young adult.

Complete all scoundrel missions and max your rank with them.

Have a black lightsaber.

Use your alien powers to bring all of the dead space aliens back to life.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 47: whirlwind sprint

Though you were raised by a single parent who had you too young, you never felt unloved. With your two aunts/uncles there, as well, you felt fulfilled and happy. However, Batuu is not where any of you belonged and, though your parent wouldn’t admit it, you knew they hated it there. So, in order to finally defeat your grandparent, you decide to become an engineer. After all, no one stands a chance against an army of robots!

Traits: Genius, self-absorbed, high maintenance

Aspiration: City Native

Skills: Robotics, flower arranging

Career: Engineer

Goals: 

Move to San Myshuno.

Max robotics skill and build as many servos as possible.

Max friendship with servos.

Complete career.

Max flower arranging and kill your great-grandparent with the death bouquet.

Complete aspiration.

Participate in every single festival.

Unlock all learnable recipes in San Myshuno.

Complete snow globes collection.

Complete city posters collection.

Have a servo be struck by lightning.

Build the computer glasses.

Build the exomech suit and helmet.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 48: the atronach

Growing up surrounded by servos was creepy and unsettling. You didn’t trust them, especially after watching so many movies where AI takes over the world. You know your parent only made them to stop their grandparent, but it feels like they just traded one evil for another. You often run away to the forest to escape and, one night, you get attacked by a werewolf.

Traits: Gloomy, active, loner

Aspiration: Lone Wolf

Skills: Violin

Career: None

Goals: 

Complete aspiration.

Max violin skill.

Unlock the technophobe lifestyle.

Stay indoors during the full moon.

Hide your affliction from your parent until you have enough money to move out.

Move to a wooded area or to Newcrest.

Complete the space print collection.

Meet your partner (sim) at night while playing violin.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 49: the aura whisper

You understand why your parent felt the need to hide what they are and you don’t blame them. However, it’s a very lonely life living so far away from others. Being the social butterfly you are, you want to meet as many people as you can! You also have a passion for fashion and decorating, something you can’t do if you remain with your parents.

Traits: Outgoing, good, insider

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Skills: Charisma, bowling

Career: Tech Guru, Start-up Entrepreneur

Goals: 

Complete aspiration.

Make candles and gift them to each of your friends.

Become friends with 3 locals in every world and take a picture with them.

Fill a wall with these photos.

Unlock the people person lifestyle.

Complete postcard collection.

Complete career.

Go bowling with your friends every weekend.

Accept every invite from your friends.

────────── 〔🌧〕──────────

♢ Generation 50: the lord

Since your parent was always surrounded by others, it was easy to make friends. This got you invited to loads of events and parties, each one more fun than the last. You always feel sad when they come to an end and you can’t wait for the next event to pop up.

Traits: Party animal, dance machine, noncommittal

Aspiration: Party Animal

Skills: DJ Mixing, dancing

Career: Any

Goals: 

Get kicked out of high school.

Fight with your parents before moving to Windenburg.

Accept every invite you get no matter what.

Max DJ mixing.

Bronze at least 15 events.

Silver at least 10 events.

Gold at least 5 events.

Max dancing skill.

Have at least three different kids with three different sims at three different events.

Have a first kiss at 5 different events.

[laysdimplesareillegal]

Character Development: Chapter 5

Pairing: Monsta X Changkyun x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: yandere themes, kidnapping, general delusion, angst

Character Development Masterlist

“Morning,” Changkyun whispered.

Seeing him lying next to me, inches away from my face, was shocking. I screamed and stumbled to get out of the bed.

“What the—why are you here?”

“In my bedroom?” He asked me while laughing, “Sorry, our bedroom”

I shook my head, “But I locked the door.”

He laughed again. “I have a key, of course”

One moment of peace, that’s all I'm asking for.

“Get back here, it’s still early.” His arms reached out to me.

Not. A. Chance. He gave me a pout. “No, I’m good.” I crossed my arms over my chest, was it always this cold in the house?

Changkyun watched me try the door; it wouldn't open. I whipped around to look at him, jiggling the handle loudly. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to ask properly. “Why won’t it open?” I demanded, ending softly so as not to provoke him.

“I locked it,” he answered simply, now sitting up, one hand resting on the bed where I had been.

I could feel my stress levels rising. I’m locked in a room with this psycho. And apparently, he can lock and unlock any door. Whereas I am becoming progressively more and more helpless. It was one thing to be sitting in the open floorplan of the kitchen-dining-living room downstairs. But here, it was as if the walls were closing in on me.

“Come back to me.” He requested.

Obeying felt like throwing away my dignity, but I was in constant fear it would be that or my life. My skin crawled as I climbed back onto the bed, almost falling off the edge to sit as far away as possible. Too close. Still too close. His face brightened and he tugged harshly on my arm, pulling me toward him. Manhandling me as he saw fit.

“This makes me so happy, you know.”

“I know.” I sighed, feeling utterly defeated. My back to his chest as he played with my hands.

For an hour, we sat like that. Or at least, I thought it was an hour. There wasn’t a clock in the bedroom. There wasn’t a clock in most of the rooms, except for the kitchen. Time seemed to drag on–more so with Changkyun here than before. Thankfully, he didn’t make me talk much, mostly just rambled to himself. I even managed to block him out at some points.

“--beakfast.” I heard, snapping back from zoning out.

Changkyun lifted me slightly, just enough to move me out of his lap, positioning me beside him, and got out of bed.  He must have said something along the lines of ‘Let’s have breakfast.’ I smirked and silently congratulated myself on being able to drown him out.

“Your smile is beautiful.” He grinned at me. “I told you, you would be happy here. I’ll make you happy.”

I had let my guard down. When I looked back up from my hands I’d punched the bed with, Changkyun was looking back at me, taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing!?” I looked away.

“Uh… getting dressed.”

“Go into the bathroom or something,” I shouted at him, averting my eyes.

Changkyun chuckled, “My y/n, so innocent and shy.”

He took some clothes and walked them to the bathroom. Despite it being him who was shirtless rather than me, I felt violated. Get me out of here.

“Are you not going to change?” He asked, re-entering the bedroom. “Wait,” he threw his pajamas, “I know just what you should wear!” He rifled through the dresser. Great, he had my whole wardrobe memorized now?

“I can find something mys–”

“No, this is perfect.” He held out a bulky sweatshirt of mine. “Then we can match,” he beamed.

I glanced from his excited expression, to the baggy white sweats he was wearing. “Great, we can match.” I mumbled sarcastically.

“Like a real couple,” he mused; I took the clothes he was holding out to me.

Gag me, I whispered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, I’ll change, and uh meet you downstairs.”

He offered to wait for me, but when I assured him on how hungry I was, he rushed downstairs instead. I can’t get a grip on his personality. He’s so hot and cold. It's as if my tone could determine his whole state of being. But he also didn’t seem to care as long as I was saying what he wanted to hear. This is limbo. A continuous state of high tension, confusion, and most importantly, never ending mental torture. As easy as he was to set off, it was just as easy to please him.

I sat alone in the room after getting dressed. I needed to be alone to sort out my thoughts. What I wouldn’t give to at least step outside. I should have pushed through my drowsiness last night. Tried the doors or tied him up when he slept. Surely Changkyun would have to go back to work eventually, right? I just have to wait it out until then. If I spend this time learning about Changkyun, learning about the house, maybe I could find some way out. Or at least get a key to one of the locked doors. I had begun to understand why all the cleaning supplies were locked away.

The quiet was nice... To be away from Changkyun’s delusions. And then, of course, cue the bedroom door opening. Changkyun looked concerned as he had been calling out my name, “You haven’t come down for breakfast, is something wrong?”

He can’t be left alone for five minutes. “Just starting my morning off slow.” I answered although it was perfectly normal for me to have held back a couple minutes and needed absolutely no explanation. 

“Oh… okay… But I want you to come downstairs now.” This was not a request but a demand.

“Coming,” I stood up.

“I love that we’re matching.” He repeated.

“I know you do,” I signed, following him down the stairs.

“How about pancakes,” Changkyun suggested when we walked into the kitchen together. I shrugged. He stared back blankly.

“Sure.”

“I’m so excited to cook with you! You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this!”

Domesticity, I groaned, silently of course. “Changkyun I–”

“Yes love?”

My final straw, “I don’t want to cook with you,” I burst out. “I don’t want to match clothes with you! I want to go home!” I shouted at him while we walked. He did not look pleased.

“I think we need to talk,” was all Changkyun said. However, he was very deliberately directing me to sit down at the table. I don’t know what overcame me, I was becoming just as turbulent as him,

“No,” and possibly a little cocky.

His eyes widened. “I’m telling you to take a seat. It looks like you’re forgetting your place here.” Clutching my shoulder roughly, he walked me to the table. After pushing me down into one of the chairs, he added, “And that place is under my thumb,” for emphasis.

Fisting a handful of my hair, Changkyun forced me to look up at him. “When I ask you to do something, you do it.” His grip loosened and he let his hand glide through my hair. “I’m taking such good care of you,” he traced my jawline.

“My home is much better than where you were living before, and I’ve supplied you with anything you’d need. And I’ve not gotten so much as a ‘thank you’ from you. I even transported you here comfortably,” he was now smoothing my hair back and staring through me. “...tied up all your loose ends. You were bored of your job. And your family? How much have you thought about them really, since you got here?”

Every moment of every day. In fact, I even wrote them letters in case I never make it out of here.

“It’s time you stopped being so combative." he continued refocusing cupping my cheek and soothing my cheekbone with his thumb, "It was cute when you acted like that with other men, but I’m really not interested in it anymore. We’ve had a rocky start, but it will make our story all the more romantic. Now, kiss me and I’ll forgive you.” He closed his eyes and smiled, showing off his dimples.

I stared blankly and we sat there for a minute. He huffed and rolled his eyes, I felt like I was in a cringy coming of age argument.

“I guess I wasn’t clear enough. When I ask you to do something, you jump at the chance to fulfill my request.” He grabbed me by the jaw and forced a kiss on me. “See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He whispered against my skin. “I forgive you,” He punctuated this with a pat on my head. He pulled away to hold me at arm's length by my shoulders, “I could never stay mad at you. Now let’s make breakfast.”

And so, Changkyun gets everything he wants.

Doing anything with Changkyun was a painful ordeal. He didn’t make anything easy. At one point he threw flour at me. I cringed and laughed to cover my blatant agitation. I imagined what would happen if I poured milk on him… probably best not to find out.

“Jagiya,” I didn’t realize I had zoned out again, while he handled the stove, ‘don't want you accidentally burning yourself.’ When I refused to answer to his pet names, he called out my name, “--I’m speaking to you.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t look like you're having fun.” I’m not. Changkyun gazed at me with disappointment.

“No,” I did my best to preserve the peace. “No, I’m having so much fun” I dipped my finger in the batter and swiped it across his cheek, “...with you.”

He looked slightly shocked, and then burst into a smile and started giggling. Honestly, that felt like a 50/50 shot. I joined him in laughing, though mostly out of relief. He cupped my face, with a sincere look in his eyes. Now I laughed genuinely. I couldn’t take him seriously with the batter smeared on his face,

“You look ridiculous” I blurted out. This obviously hurt him. He thought we were having a moment and I quite literally laughed in his face. “Uh, because of your face.” I was not remedying the situation. He pulled away. “I mean because of this.”

I grabbed him and aggressively wiped at his face. This only made more of a mess. Twice now, I've touched him voluntarily, and my hand burned because of it. Not that I was keeping count–he probably was though.  He froze, and coughed awkwardly–or, more likely, because of the smoke billowing off the pan on the stove.

Twice as flustered now, “Go over there, don’t breathe in the smoke, it's bad for you.” Changkyun prompted me to leave the kitchen. I obeyed, at least I don't have to clean it up. In the meantime, I made my way to the bathroom down the hall and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

“He is despicable.” I looked myself in the eyes. “He’s not friendly, he’s dangerous. A loose cannon and a criminal. Remember twenty minutes ago? Do not feel bad for hurting his feelings. He deserves every insult in the book, he is a monster.” After a couple more minutes of reminding myself Changkyun did not deserve me trying my hardest, I re-entered the kitchen.

“Sorry I ruined breakfast,” Changkyun looked at me with a discouraged expression.

“It’s not ruined, there's still some batter left!”

“If you like them with a little smoke.” 

“It just gives them an edge. Besides, there wasn’t that much smoke.” I was already back on my bullshit, and he didn’t even seem convinced. And then it hit me–how stupid I was. I hacked out a fake cough, “On second thought…” This made him panic. “Maybe we should open a window?”

He guided me out of the kitchen. “The windows don’t open.” He laughed incredulously.

“Oh… Right,” I chuckled, “Then maybe the back d–”

“No.” he said sternly.

We wound up in the library and didn’t speak, but I knew better than to try and leave when he shut the door purposefully behind us. Choosing to sit in the chair by the window, I drank in the midmorning sunlight. I wasn’t sure why he was so quiet, but busied myself reprimanding myself for falling for his puppy dog eyes and self-deprecation.

At some point he left; I stayed, so as not to look like I was following him. Eventually, he came back. I tried to act like I didn’t notice, like I was too wrapped up in this book, but the truth is I was painfully aware of his every move. My head ached from the hypervigilance, and it's been forever since I ate last. The sun and barred windows came together to cast harsh shadows on the floor, it must be past noon now.

Changkyun broke the silence, “This isn’t how I wanted to spend our first full day together.” That’s right, it’s only been a total of one full day. He crossed the small room to kneel in front of me, “please don’t ignore me.” This sounded much more like a plea than usual, and he placed his hands gently on my knees, “I ordered us something.”

I looked down my nose at him, doing my best not to shudder from his touch. Hopefully, he thinks I’m waiting for him to stop talking so I can carry on reading.

“Since apparently neither of us can be trusted to cook,” he let out a weak laugh, and looked away. I am not impressed. I know I’m most likely testing his patience, but I could get used to openly showing my disgust for him. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger. I never want you to be uncomfortable,” He looked away.

I raised an eyebrow, so this is why he was being so mild, he thinks I’m upset with him? Danger? Uncomfortable? A little smoke’s not gonna kill me. I rolled my eyes, internally of course. And don’t even get me started on being uncomfortable.

“The smoke’s all gone,” he said hopefully.

I would assume so, it’s not like the house was on fire. I brushed his hands off of me, “Is the food here?”

“Any minute now,'' he reports, delighted.

Gently, he plucks the book out of my hand and places it on the windowsill. I try to tug my hand away, but he already has a merciless grip on me, accompanied by a blissful smile on his face. I let him guide me into the kitchen while he rattled on about “Sorry” and “we’re so silly” and other things about us that he made up, like how similar we are. 

Lunch passed slowly also; except this time, I wasn’t allowed to leave when I was done. Although, I learned some things about Changkyun: he is a nepo baby, he travels relatively often, he's wildly obsessed with me, and his favorite color is purple (although it is unclear whether or not that is because it’s my favorite color). Of course, those were all things he told me. On inference, I learned he’s relatively estranged from his family, he’s a homebody, and him thinking I’m upset with him is much more propitious than me actually being upset with him. In other words, the cold shoulder is highly effective.

Since lunch was so late, I requested that I skip dinner. He did not oblige so I picked at my food and sat with him. We got onto the topic of hobbies which I thought was pointless because he made an effort to brag about how much he knew about me. This morphed into hobbies I should take up.

“You know what you need?” I stared at him. “To brush up on your Korean.” Brush up? I didn’t know any. “Not that it’ll be anytime soon, but when I go to work, I want you studying. And then we could talk to each other in Korean.” He swooned.

“Are you fluent?” He nodded; obviously happy I was inquiring about him. But that was the extent of the questions I asked.

And so the day crawled to a close, ending with us arguing about him leaving the room while I showered–I won after appealing to him: I’m, “still so shy. It’s cute.” I ended up leaving the shower running so I could fall asleep alone.

[wosemi-sama]

Cuddling hcs for iluna please? If you can’t do all six then just the girls please 🙏

you quite literally sent this half an hour after i closed my requests but i wanna write this so ill accept it. for now.... DONT expect this to happen again boy. also only maririn n aia bc id make it too long sorey 😔☝️

maria marionette

Her skin is somehow really soft despite being a literal FORMER DOLL are you kidding me.

Has her down also so nothing gets in the way. (Also very soft but that was expected)

It's very rare seeing Maria with her hair down, but she looks adorable nonetheless.

Will probably end up falling asleep on your chest so be warned.

Maria kept tugging at the end ribbon Aia put in her hair that morning until eventually pulling it completely, her ponytail collapsing as the ribbon became the long snake it was before. She left it on the bathroom sink and turned off the light.

She walked out her bedroom and shuffled over the the couch in her pink slippers. Maria sat down and turned on the TV before laying her head back. She felt her eyes start to droop until she heard the door open. Her head turned to you with speed.

Maria lightly gasped, "Hey, you're here!" She smiled. "Glad you could make it. I think I have a lot more pillows in my room than what's on the floor." She vaguely gestured to the 5 or so pillows on the floor. "Wait here." She got up and shuffled back to her room, the TV quiet in the background.

You took off your shoes and set your bag on the ground next to them. You sat on the couch to wait for Maria, which didn't take long as she was speedy as ecstatic to make a pillow fort with you. She plopped down the pillows and gestured to them, signaling that it was time to get to work.

Two hours later, and she's somehow fallen asleep on you in the tiniest pillow fort humankind has ever concocted in a slightly bigger dorm. You nearly knocked the whole thing down with every movement you took, so you settled on just sitting still. Maria was snoring peacfully on your chest, her breathing steady. It didn't seem like you'd be moving for a while.

aia amare

Her hair is down too ough,,,,

She is SO silly with everything this includes cuddling. She'll playfight until you're both tired.

The only thing that sucks about the bullet above is that she's sweaty after playfighting, but I suppose you'll manage. Right?

Surprisingly becomes a different person. She gets all soft and stuff, her already failing rough exterior crumbles when it comes to you.

After a sudden tickle attack, laughing, and blocking purposefully weak attacks, you and Aia finally settled down next to each other, out of breath from playfighting.

Aia's hair was out of her usual braid, strewn about on the bedsheet as she inhaled and exhaled, looking at you.

Without thinking, the both of you inched closer to each other, your arms wide open for Aia. She accepted the embrace and her breathing slowed down before it became almost nonexistent.

Aia curled around you, nearly fitting like a piece to a jigsaw puzzle. Her arms around your back while yours were around hers. She closed her eyes, her glasses smooshed to your face, but you didn't mind much.

It didn't take long for Aia to fall asleep, her body rised and fell every time she breathed in between a snore. You slowly took off her glasses and put them on the nightstand, careful not to wake her up.

The room was devoid of any light, minus the moon subtly illuminating the deep blue sky through the white curtains. Although you had rid of your fear of the dark when you were a child, nothing was scary with an angel maiden by your side, always brightening your day with her antics and angelic glow.

[bked0n-lorazepam]

"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Part One

“You’re very tense.” 

The clock ticks, it’s echo bouncing off the beige walls of the plain, boring room. The couch I sit upon is a sad brown, fitting into the rest of the sad theme.

The window sill has plants on it though, very green and happy plants, a complete contrast to the rest of the snowy atmosphere outside.

“I’ve always been tense,” I say, looking away from the window and at the woman in front of me. She smiles a pitiful smile, sympathy she obviously can’t hide flashes through her green eyes. 

“Not always. In your file it says you used to be a very calm and relaxed-”

“It also says I used to have brown hair. How times change,” I smile tightly back at her, sighing as I realize my mistake. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so snippy. I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

She looks at her watch, also sighing as she shuts her notepad and sets it on the coffee table between us. She runs a hand through her hair, clearing her throat as she leans her arms on her knees. 

“I know this is tough, and I know what he did to you, and I know you want to get better, but this takes time. You can’t rush healing. I’m sending you home, and I won’t add this appointment to your bill,” She shushes my protests, raising her hand and making a ‘quit it’ motion, “You need to go home and sleep. You can’t rush this process.”

My keys clank against the trinket bowl as I shrug off my winter jacket, a soft bell following suit with soft, padded thuds. I grin, taking off my boots and shaking the snow out of my dirty blonde hair. My cat, Winston, meows loudly as I crouch down to pet him. 

“You hungry, little dude?” I look at the time on my phone, it reading 5:39 pm. He meows again, butting his head on my leg as I snort and stand up. “Of course you are.”

I walk to my kitchen, setting my phone on the counter as I open the drawer I dedicated to Winston the day I bought my apartment. I pull out wet food for him, opening it and setting it on the ground next to his water bowl.

I lean against the counter and watch him shove his white little face into the bowl to inhale his food.

Shaking my head and laughing a bit, I stop when I notice my phone vibrating. Picking it up and unlocking it, I let out a huh as I open my messages and see my sister texting me.

Donna: I js got a date with the hottest mf I have ever seen

Donna: like smoking hot

Me: someone is actually interested in you? thats a first

Donna: ok ouch

Donna: but yes 

Donna: oh and mom decided shes going to stay at your place for the weeknd

Donna: so get ready to clean

I immediately hit the call button as I read her messages.

“She’s doing what now?” I yell into the phone, wincing as I see Winston puff his tail up and look at me.

“Why would you not tell me this before today? Friday is in three days, and my place is a freaking pigsty. Three days is not enough time to clean, Madonna.” I tell her and start looking around my kitchen, noticing everything I know my mom will criticize the minute she walks into my apartment.

“Uh, probably because I just found out today, and don’t call me Madonna. She called me right before I landed the date with McDreamy,” She states and sighs, and I hear her throw herself on what I assume is her bed. 

“Besides, your place is never a pigsty. It’s always so clean, I could literally eat off your bathroom floor. Speaking of eat, you should also probably cook something, ‘cause we both know she ain’t eatin’ anywhere else.” The southern accent at the last part of her sentence was absolutely awful, but I understood it enough.

“Right, right, of course,” I sigh, hearing a thunk come from my bedroom as I watch Winston race towards the door.

Remembering the fact that I left my window open in my room, I assume a bird managed to fly its way into there, and that that was probably why Winston seemed so interested in it. “So, what’s McDreamy's name? I don’t think you’ve told me yet.” 

I change the subject as I start to walk towards my room to get the poor bird out of there before Winston tortures it. As I turn to go down the hallway, I stop when I notice the bedroom light is on. 

“Oh! His name is Badri, and he owns his own company. ‘Jules Jewels’, or whatever. Anyway, he lives in-” 

The blood rushing through my ears is loud enough to block her voice out, and the fast beat in my chest definitely does not help.

Thousands of True Crime documentary scenes play through my head where my current situation is the beginning scene of a vicious murder. 

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it refuses to leave. I chew on my lip as I slowly walk backwards back into the kitchen, clearing my throat as I walk towards my knife block on my counter. “Sorry, could you repeat that again? You, um, cut out for a second.”

“Mhm! I said that Badri’s sister was getting married next fall, and that she invited us to come to the wedding.” I hum in response, taking out a chef’s knife and taking off the safety cover. 

“I’m sorry Donna, but I’m gonna have to call you back. Kensley’s texting me about when our next therapy session will be.” I lie to her, grasping the knife in my hand tightly. 

“Oh, that’s okay! I’ll call you later to tell you more, love you, bye!” She says right before I hang up on her, and I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans.

I go over to my sink, turning on the faucet to hopefully drown out my footsteps and any creaking the floor might do as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom. 

I grasp the knife even tighter, furrowing my eyebrows as I hear Winston purr with a deep chuckle and a pop following after. I take a deep breath in, and open the door as quickly as I can.

I drop the knife at the person in front of me, and Winston darts out of the room, startled from the loud noise. 

“Go–good evening to yo–u too, sweets.”

[icedroplove]

Chapter 2

-------x-----

When Juvia finally got back, they had already ordered. Gray waited for her to take the seat he saved next to him. When she did, he couldn’t help but notice the change in her demeanor. Something was bothering her, but there were no indications of what it was. Her eyes were puffy, she had cried. That surprised him since the woman looked like her usual self before she went to the bathroom. 

However, Gray didn’t want to make any comments or pressure her to talk about it. He knew from personal experience that it was a bother to have others pinpointing his sadness when all he needed was some space. He just hoped she would come to him if she needed someone to hear her thoughts. 

“Are you okay with pasta primavera? I know it’s your favorite, but if you want to eat something else I can ask for the waiter to replace your order.”

“There’s no need. It was very thoughtful of Gray-sama to remember Juvia’s favorite dish.” She offered him a tiny smile. Although this seemed to brighten her mood a little bit, he could still spot some clouds in her gaze. It was starting to worry him.

When the food came, everyone stopped talking to fill their stomachs from the long trip. The contrast from the loud group before and the silence that reigned at the table then was almost comical. Since the plates were well served, everyone felt satisfied by the end of the meal (even Natsu, but he didn’t count as he ordered three dishes for himself). They checked out and decided to head to the inn to get some rest. Surely the following days would require a lot of energy.

It was already dark when Team Natsu (plus Juvia) got there. Erza took the front and set everything with the receptionist as they relaxed in the lounge. After fifteen minutes, the redhead returned.

“Okay, from what it seems our client already booked the rooms for us and he’ll cover the booking expenses. We have three bedroom keys.”

“Just three? But we are…” Natsu stopped his sentence to look at the group and started counting “Six mages and two exceeds!”

Erza ignored her friend and told them how she organized the bedrooms. “We have two rooms with a king-sized bed and one that fits three people. Natsu, Lucy and Happy are going to sleep in bedroom number 4.”

“Sure.” Natsu said. With his habit of breaking into Lucy’s apartment and sleeping on her bed, sharing a room was no problem for the two friends. However, Gray didn’t fail to notice the faint blush that covered the blonde  girl’s cheeks.

“Gray, will sleep alone in bedroom number 6…”

“Hey, why does Frosty Lollipop get a room just for him?!”

“...While me, Wendy and Charl will sleep in bedroom number 5.”

Gray furrowed his brows. Then, where would Juvia sleep? Before he had the time to think of how to casually ask this, the redhead explained.

“Juvia, as we invited you to come after I sent to the client our names, he didn’t put you on the documents. But don't worry about that, I managed to solve this issue.

“Juvia is grateful for that, Erza!” Juvia answered. She seemed to have returned to her usual self in the last hour, which was a relief to Gray. “But where shall Juvia sleep?”

With the way accommodations were set, the only two possibilities were Juvia sharing the king sized bed with Erza… which he was sure would be tough because his childhood friend had the terrible habit of kicking in her sleep. When they were kids, sleepovers always ended with Gray on the ground while Natsu and Erza fought for space.

Another possible outcome would be… Gray’s bed. After all, he was the only one who had a room of his own. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? Certainly Juvia would be over the moon and beam at him and talk about how this was like the old times when they lived together. As for him, there was no doubt it would be nice. The only thing plaguing his mind was: would he be able to control himself and follow the very clear instructions from the book Minerva gave him?

Months ago, when Team Natsu was still on the one hundred years quest, they visited Sabertooth’s library. Gray had been intrigued with a lacrima that could spot any book given a name or subject. He tested it with some random commands, for example: “how to treat a woman”. To his surprise, a few books showed up. Even though his curiosity urged him to take a look (it wouldn’t hurt, right?) he didn’t even have time to do it before duty called again. 

Later that day, Minerva called him in private and said that she found the book he was looking for. What? How did she know? Either way, she handed it to him. “How to love powerful women”, it was called. At first, he found the idea of actually reading a book so he could be less miserable completely absurd. He would figure it out alone. Even so, he kept it in his travel bag.

There was one night, though, when he reconsidered. They were going back to Magnolia and Gray was getting anxious. He promised himself that as soon as he became a man who deserved Juvia he’d make her his, but how exactly? Of course, loving her was the most important part, but come on, that girl was a hopeless romantic. She dreamed of having 32 babies with him, for Mavis’s sake! What exactly did it take to be a good partner? And, his most immediate concern, where did he even start?

Defeated, Gray opened that stupid book. When the sun came up, he had already finished it. He remembered vividly all the book's remarks on how to ask a girl out, how to kiss her, how to make… Anyway…

The question in his mind was: would sleeping next to Juvia be a good thing for the way he planned things to progress? What if he rushed the steps? Gosh, why was all of this SO HARD?

You know what? Screw it.

“I guess she could-”

“Juvia, you’ll share the double bed with me.” Erza glares at Gray and lifts an eyebrow, both intrigued and challenging. She throws at him one bedroom key and hands Lucy the other. “Let’s go.”

-x-

Juvia wakes up with a scream stuck in her throat. She’s sweating and breathing quickly. It takes a moment for her to remember where she is. She looks up at the bed where Erza just kicked her from. The fall must have woken her from the nightmare.

Everything 's okay. Juvia's at the inn. Gray-sama doesn’t hate her, nor does he think she’s disposable.

Her encounter with Bora still plagued her mind. Even though Juvia didn’t have any sort of feelings for him, it still hurt knowing that he didn’t even remember who she was. They dated for months back when she was at Phantom Lord and even with him being roughly ten years older now, she still recognized the man. Juvia didn’t even change that much apart from her hair and clothes! This shouldn’t have made her feel bad as she was aware that Bora wasn’t a good guy. Back then he constantly forgot about their dates and put her down, even broke it off because of her gloomy rain. Then, why did this matter so much to her? She had a family now, she had Gray-

Gray.

They had come a long way to get where they were now. Juvia had to admit, she was kind of freaky at the beginning and it wasn’t something she was proud of, but eventually she found a way to keep true to the pureness of her love without overstepping any boundaries. That had been thanks to some talks Gajeel had with her over the years. Her best friend was one of the most reliable people he had next to her and she knew she could trust him on this matter. Even though he wasn’t a super romance enthusiast, he did find love himself, so he knew a thing or two. And, as Juvia very slowly started to be less over the edge, Gray also changed his demeanor. It was impossible not to notice. It hadn’t been a fast change, on both sides, but since the war against Alvarez and mainly the one hundred years quest, they seemed to have found themselves in a comfortable middle ground.

She was so happy with the possibility that he might finally return her feelings for him. However, she was afraid to expect too much and only find her heart broken. There had been close calls in the past, times when she was sure they were on the same page and then he pushed her away. She was reluctant to believe. Was that wrong? Did her doubt over him ever loving her back make her love weaker?

Juvia got up and rubbed her temples, trying to take all these thoughts away. She needed energy for the next day, which meant having a good night of sleep, preferably without any nightmares. She walked to the balcony for some fresh air. 

The moon was bright and beautiful in the night sky. After admiring it for a bit, she closed her eyes and felt the breeze against her face. Juvia took a deep breath and felt her body start to calm down. Suddenly, a rush of cold air came from her left. She didn’t need to open her eyes to recognize his magic.

Gray was leaning against the border of the balcony, too concentrated on his hands to notice her presence. Juvia quietly observed the man as he used his power, Usually, his magic formed swords, fighting eagles, big shards of ice to attack his enemy. Juvia loved to see when it was used to create beautiful, delicate objects. She couldn’t see exactly what it was, but it looked like a chain. 

He cursed at a mistake he made and that made Juvia giggle. That was when he first noticed her presence on the balcony of her room. They were side by side this whole time, but he was so focused that he didn’t even notice. How cute.

“Hey.” He whispered, trying not to make too much noise since it was the middle of the night. 

“Good night, Gray-sama. Did you have trouble sleeping?”

He nodded, letting a sigh out of him. “Guess my nap on the train was too long, I feel too awake now.”

“Oh.” Juvia muttered. That made sense.

“I guess that’s the same case for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

Actually, Juvia didn’t sleep at all during the ride. She had been so excited about her Gray-sama resting his head on her shoulder that her body didn’t relax for a second.

They stayed in a very comfortable silence for the next couple of minutes. As Gray kept working on that ice chain, Juvia looked at the buildings and let her fertile imagination guess how life was at the village. From what she observed from now, there were a few markets, stores and restaurants but most of the space was occupied by houses. However, as Residential as Aster village was, Juvia didn’t feel like it was a warm place. People were unwelcoming and dry. Some looked scared of them, others looked down on the newcomers… It carried a heavy aura that she didn’t enjoy.

“Juvia.” 

Gray called her in a whisper. When he saw he caught her attention, he threw her something from his right wrist. After catching it, Juvia opened her hand and took a look at what he gave her.

It was a necklace. The chain she caught him making before was thin and secured a pendant in the shape of a water drop. It was so simple, yet made her heart warm instantly. Juvia pinned it around her neck and held the drop between her fingers, admiring the precious ice-made jewelry.

“It’s beautiful, Gray-sama.”

Gray smiled back at her. Before he could say something, both of them heard a loud thump and rumbling from Lucy and Natsu’s bedroom. Probably Natsu kicked Lucy from the bed. Juvia let out a giggle. She noticed that Gray’s eyes were starting to drop and she could feel a yawn trying to come out from her. 

“Juvia should go to bed.. and Gray-sama too.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

After a moment of silence, they both got back to their respective rooms. Juvia slept like a baby for the rest of the night.

[quinloki]

Quicksand - ALTERNATIVE

If you haven't read Quicksand up to chapter 5 you're going to be terribly confused.

Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only

ADDITIONAL CW: Dub-con, kidnapping, imprisonment

The alternative version picks up at Chapter 6- there's a lot of overlap for the first few chapters as the story slowly peels away from the original. The alternative chapters explore Sir Crocodile's yandere tendencies in a setting where the reader rejects him (vs the original where she never ran).

You can read it as it posts to Tumblr, or sate your curiosity on AO3 // Wattpad immediately.

Chapter 12: Escaped

Dinner was simple enough. The most conversation you had was with the staff that were bringing out food and drink in the first place. You had a few options between salad and sandwiches to eat, including a few heavier items if you wanted them, and an offer of dessert.

You ate as well as you could, enjoying tea to go along with it and opting to not kick up a fuss.

Once the meal was over Crocodile escorted you to a kind of sitting room. He lit a cigar as someone brought you a pot of tea and poured a fresh cup for you. Chamomile – from the scent and sight of it, something fairly well renowned for helping to keep people calm.

“We need to talk.” He says after a moment.

“… We do, but…” You take a drink of the tea before pulling your legs up onto the couch. “We’re already at a kind of impasse, aren’t we?”

“Hardly,” he says, blowing smoke into the air. The scent of the cigar is as calming as the tea, and it is at least helping to keep your nerves manageable. “This, my dear, is because of your tendency to bolt like a scared rabbit. You knew what you were getting into and had plenty of chances to leave.

“Instead, you stole away in the middle of the night, and while that has been forgiven,” he adds before you can say anything. “It would be foolish of me to forget it. Especially given that even now you have a desire to run from me.”

You flinch. You had been doing your best to keep your desire to escape tucked away, but he was certainly more perceptive than most. “It’s… too much.” You say, but you can’t look anywhere except your teacup.

“You could’ve talked to me about it.” He says evenly. The tone, devoid of pain or judgement, tinged slightly with disappointment, was worse than anything else to you right now.

“I didn’t want to leave,” you admit. “But I couldn’t stay.” You set the teacup down and wave your arms around. “All this? I live in a square apartment. Outside of work, three people know my name. Being in this – this castle is too much. My apartment could fit in the bathroom attached to that bedroom.” You cover your face with your hands for a moment, trying to compose yourself, before you sigh.

“You’re good with words, Sir. You pull the world into your flow, and I knew if I waited around to talk, I would get swept away.”

“So, you ran.”

“So, I ran.” You admit.

“But you want to stay.” He says, and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“No, I-.”

“-said you didn’t want to leave.” He interrupts. “Miss (Y/N), I will forgive a great many things, but one thing I will not tolerate is lying. To yourself, or to me. Introspection can be a challenge, and I’m inclined to provide you far more leeway than I would anyone else, but I suggest you answer me truthfully.”

He exhales cigar smoke into the air, and you can feel those predatory eyes locking you into place. You weren’t even looking at him, but you can’t draw your eyes away from his gaze.

“You enjoyed the last two months, correct?”

“I did.”

“You enjoyed our night together, correct?”

Your face flushes and you close your eyes for a moment since you can’t seem to look away. “I did.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“I… don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t think you’d hurt me, but you could. You could’ve been hurt and angry when I left, and p-perhaps rightfully so, but you could’ve left me to it and let me disappear.” You’re curled into the couch, feet on the cushions, knees to your chest. As though such flimsy actions would provide you with any protection.

“You didn’t want to leave, and I don’t want you to leave.” He says after a moment’s silence. “Why would I do anything else?”

“But I did leave, I made that choice-!”

“And I made this one.”

“Y-you can’t keep me caged forever.” You say, but you’re quite certain he could. He has money enough for it, and probably the patience to go alongside it.

“I don’t need to do so for forever.” He says almost lazily, filling the air with more smoke, before he stands up. Walking over to you, he crouches down, holding his cigar aside in his prosthetic hand, and putting his right hand lightly against your ankle. “Only until you accept this.”

“I won’t accept it.” You manage to say, but the heat from his hand is sending a shiver up your leg, and you’re certain you’re not repulsed by it. The sound of his voice, despite his words, is sinking into your skin and you almost wish he would simply take what he pleased from you.

If he drowned you in his will, you would succumb, you were certain of it. You were equally certain that he didn’t want a broken doll – he wanted you, as you were, and that meant getting you to willingly acquiesce.

“In a battle of wills, desert flower, I will not lose.” He promises you, standing up enough to lean over and kiss your forehead. “For you, my patience is boundless. Struggle in all the ways you feel you must.”

You and your senses are on edge and his declaration and actions break something in you. Your hand whips through the air as though someone else controls it and cracks loudly across Crocodile's cheek. His face is turned aside, but the even expression on his face, despite the red sting of your slap blooming there, leaves you with the impression that he let your smack move his face.

“D-don’t kiss me.” You say, managing to glare despite the twist in your stomach, and the alarming pain in your hand. If you weren’t so focused on trying to make your point you’d be checking to make sure you hadn’t broken anything.

If he hadn’t turned his face aside you might have.

“… I shall refrain until you say otherwise.” He replies evenly, taking you by the wrist, forcefully but not painfully, and looks over your hand. Your fingers and palm are far more red and swollen than his cheek. “But I must ask that you make future requests without hurting yourself.”

You pull your hand back when he releases it and look away as he takes a few steps back. “This seems to be the limits of our conversation for now. Shall I escort you back so that you can rest?”

“I can go back on my own.”

Crocodile sighs. “My dear, you’ll go nowhere on your own, at least not for now. I can either escort you or carry you, unless you’re requesting to stay in here with me.”

You look at the pot of tea and to him. “I’d… like to have some more tea, before bed.”

“Very well.” He turns away, going over to a small table and pouring himself a glass of brandy before returning to where he had been sitting. Focusing on his cigar and his drink he reads something on his phone while he leaves you to your tea.

You take your time finishing off the small pot of tea. You let yourself slowly relax and uncurl from your spot on the couch, eyes shifting around the sitting room. You let yourself take in your surroundings as you let your guard down a little.

Crocodile and his home were elegant. The halls and open areas were brighter, but the rooms, especially the private ones, were full of deep dark woods and colors. Almost as though the furniture itself wanted to hush and pull you into a sense of quiet security.

It was all simple as well, not ostentatious designs, no excess of accents. Each individual item was practically plain on its own, but the collective impact of the room was complex. Whether he designed it himself or had someone else handle it, it was done expertly.

When you were done, you let him escort you to your room, but as he walked by it you looked at him in confusion.

“Your bed is a disaster, you’ll use mine tonight.”

“I absolutely will not-!” You started to pull away when he put his arm around your waist and lifted you up easily.

He had lifted you like a sack of brown-bagged groceries, holding your arms to your side with his arm and hand as he pinned you to his chest to keep his other hand free. The ease with which he did so, and the pressure of his grip silenced you. You hadn’t doubted he was strong before now, but he could simply shatter you to pieces if he so desired, and the disparity in your strength comparatively was far starker now than before.

“While it is sufficiently large enough for the both of us to use,” he explains, opening the door to his room and stepping in. “I will not join you while you’re in it. You may rest, assured of that I promise.”

Closing the door he sets you down and motions toward the bed. It’s slightly larger than the one in your room, a full four poster with a silky sheer canopy. You’re certain this one bed costs more than your car.

“Tomorrow you may begin to organize your room, but for tonight please rest here.”

You agreed. Crocodile brought over pajamas for you from your room and allowed you to change in the privacy of his bathroom. You were able to get comfortable in the bed, or the bed was able to make you comfortable and after a few tense moments of almost glaring at him while he sat near the fireplace, you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up it was still pitch dark outside.

Looking around carefully, you realized quickly that Crocodile was asleep on the couch by the fireplace. Slipping out of the bed you cautiously moved closer.

The estate had no creaky floors, just carpet and rugs overtop stone floors. Stepping slowly meant you were impossibly quiet as you moved.

You kept one eye and both ears on Crocodile as he slept, the soft sounds of steady breathing and a soft snore stayed at the back of your mind as you made your way to the door. Turning the handle slowly, oh so slowly, to the point you could almost feel the mechanism of the latch more than heat it, you were relieved - and surprised - to find the door unlocked.

You slipped through as small an opening as you could, grabbing the exterior handle before letting go of the interior one and closing it as slowly and quietly as before. Easing the handle up as gently and quietly as you had the interior handle, desperate to not make a single sound.

The fear that he would be at the door nearly made your stomach retch, but you moved away from the doors and headed toward the elevator. The ding was going to sound terribly loud, but you didn’t know anything about the stairs - they could be emergency only, or locked from the inside, or squeaky and loud and worse than a single soft bell.

Pressing the button for it, the doors opened with such a soft ding that you can barely hear it. Stepping into the carriage you press the button for the ground floor and watch down the hall through the crack in the doors until they close completely. Letting out a small sigh of relief you almost sit down in the elevator car as it descends.

The same soft ding heralds the end of the smooth elevator ride and it opens to the familiar hall you saw earlier when you came down for dinner. With less concern for making noise you jog lightly down the hall to the front doors.

You hesitate. Security, alarms, variables you didn’t know about. There was only a short elevator ride separating the two of you right now, but whatever happened once you opened the doors you didn’t need much time to reach the gates. You might need time to get past them, but that was a hurdle you couldn’t even consider from where you were.

Unlocking the bolt you open the door and step through it, braced for whatever terrible noise might spring forth. The silence is almost worse as you head out into the cool night air.

Running down the long driveway, you wince a little at the random pebbles and stones your feet find in the dark, ignoring the pain for now. The gate was made to stop cars, not people, and not people as small as you. There were several places you could easily fit through, but you paused for a moment, placing a single finger against the metal work briefly.

You expected a jolt or something similar, but the security of the gate was no more than its existence. You wouldn’t be harmed or shocked if you attempted to wiggle through it.

“You left with such resolve you couldn’t even bid me farewell directly.”

“Such bravery, young lady, to slight a Warlord that way.”

You slumped to your knees at the iron gate that marked the edge of the estate. You could step through the bars easily, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It wasn’t that you wanted to stay, certainly not under these conditions, but you didn’t hate him, even now.

You didn’t hate him, and you didn’t want to hurt him the same way a second time. Disappearing into the night again. If you found a way to leave it needed to be different, and it needed to be successful.

Also, you knew, in your heart, down to your bones, that you couldn’t run far or fast enough once you passed the gate to get away. You had nothing but the pajamas you were wearing right now. Even if you could make it to the nearest marine base, there was no guarantee that they would protect you from a Warlord – or that they even could.

Crocodile was a smooth talker. He put you at ease despite the situation, so much so he eased you right into his bed. He could certainly convince the marines that you were delusional, or recovering from some malady that made you paranoid, and if they would only release you back to his custody he would ensure you were taken care of appropriately.

He may only have to say that you are his, and that alone would be enough, such was the way of the Grandline Metro.

If you ran, it would need to be long past the reach of the island.

Body and heart heavy you trudge back up to the estate proper. Opening the front door you step inside, closing it and locking it, before setting your head on the doors and sighing a little. It was going to be a long walk back to the bedroom, and your stomach was in knots worried that Crocodile would be awake before you could crawl back into bed.

You make your way upstairs without incident, opening the door to his bedroom quietly, though not as quietly as before, and stepping back inside. You notice Crocodile still on the couch and slowly ease the latch into place.

Turning to step toward the bed, you freeze in place, feeling the warmth of a body behind you, and the cool, hard metal of a golden hook against your throat.