#storage under bunk bed

[londynwatson]

Dallas Bedroom Bedroom - large rustic guest dark wood floor and brown floor bedroom idea with white walls and no fireplace

[syboubou]

Dorm Territory CC set

This is the ultimate customizable haven for young Sims with a new custom content set designed for crafting the perfect dormitory or teenage bedroom. This collection is packed with modular elements that offer endless combinations, featuring an extensive range of color swatches to match any style or theme.

Dive into diverse thematic options—from celestial space motifs and geeky gadgets to musical influences, gothic darkness, adorable kawaii touches, athletic vibes, or serene nature elements. Each theme is meticulously curated to ensure that every room can be tailored to reflect the unique personality and interests of your young Sims.

Whether you opt to differentiate each room with its own distinctive clutter or unify them under a common theme with personalized variations, this set provides the flexibility to create spaces that are as individual as your Sims. Explore the possibilities and let your Sims express their identity in their personal sanctuaries 🤓

Description

This set includes 35 new items:

Comfort: Bunk bed, single bed, desk chair, messy pillows floor seat

Surfaces: Desk, wall desk, standing shelfes, wall shelves, TV console table

Storage: Dresser (with our without posters)

Electronics: Computer, Small TV, Hifi stereo, Video games console (requires City living)

Lighting: Left and right wall lamp, crown neon, fire flame neon, quote neon

Hobby: Functional electric guitar (+ wall decor version)

Clutter: Wall organizer, bagpack, homework, rug, decor amp, globe, cds stack pile, Schoolbooks pile, controllers, videogames box, uno cards

📥Free download on my website

✨NEW ✨ If you can't subscribe to my patreon you can still support me via the Support A Creator program ! 💚

[los-angeles-county-limousine]

New York Contemporary Kids

Ideas for a mid-sized contemporary girl's room remodel with a beige floor, wallpaper, and carpeted children's room and white walls

[latinx-lancaster]

Rustic Kids Salt Lake City Kids' room: a medium-sized, gender-neutral, rustic idea with white walls.

[crescendence]

Bedroom Guest in Chicago Example of a large trendy guest carpeted bedroom design with blue walls and no fireplace

[uebow]

Bedroom Kids Room Salt Lake City Kids' room: a large, rustic, gender-neutral kids' room design with white walls.

[volatile-vertex]

Denver Bedroom Bedroom - large transitional guest carpeted and gray floor bedroom idea with white walls and no fireplace

[pendaly]

Children - Kids Room a few small crafts Kids' room image with a beige floor and carpet that is gender-neutral.

[hayleymulch-art]

Bedroom in Denver Bedroom - large contemporary guest bedroom idea with beige walls and a light wood floor but no fireplace

[a-killer-obsession]

OKAY I DID IT, I FIGURED OUT THE LAYOUT

Disclaimer: it seems like the size of the ship changes every time we see it, but the newest eps vs wano seem pretty consistent so I went with that and used Wire's height for scale

Floor layouts under the cut ✂️

Edit: you can find clearer/more detailed versions here

Layout based on the 31 member crew that Oda confirmed. I also took in to account that a significant portion of the members are fucking massive, so everything is bigger which matches the scale it's drawn in. Floors are approx 5m high with 2m wide doors in most places, which makes sense when a good portion of the crew are 3m tall.

Sorry about my handwritting lmao I'm so tired but I have serious brainworms and couldn't sleep

The specifics:

Kid's Floor

Of course he has his own floor

Quarters include his own private dining space which I imagine would also include a workdesk, bedroom with king sized bed and probably a couch, walk in closet, and bathroom definitely large enough for a massive tub

Workshop also has bathroom entrance for when he's feelin lazy

Ladder space in the middle goes straight through, this is so crew going to the castle deck don't access his floor

Commander's floor

Heat, Wire and Killer have their own rooms and a private lounge just for them and Kid

Heat and Wire share a large bathroom, definitely big enough for normal bath

Heat and Killer have king sized beds, Wire's bed is almost as wide as a king but mostly it's made especially long

Small decking that runs the whole way around, unspoken rule that crew aren't allowed there since windows peer into commander's rooms

Killer could probably fit a drumkit in his room 👀

Cannon Deck

We get peeks of this in the anime and in Oda's notes but they're fuzzy so I just did my best

Made a mistake tho, cannon platform should be whole way around back like a U shape to account for 3 cannons facing backwards, total 9 cannons

Theoretically this is where the helm should be so uh that's where I put it

Screenshots make it look like they also store a lot of other weapons here

Main deck

Forecastle includes navigation room with bookcases, central table, and desk for paperwork

Forecastle also has infirmary with two longer than normal beds to account for larger crewmates, and a desk for crew doctor to keep notes

Door between nav and infirmary cos Kid is lazy

Kitchen and pantry. Given the rooms are 5m from floor to ceiling I imagine that pantry would have a small mezzanine accessed by a ladder to take advantage of vertical space (and would be a sick place to nap)

Galley/dining hall contains 3 bench style tables, seating 10 large crewmates each, with one extra fancy chair at the end of one for Kid

Lower deck

Did my best to do some math to figure out how many larger than normal beds were required and decided on 6 bunks for 12 larger crewmates

Additional rooms for average sized crewmates include 4 rooms with 2 bunks each, and one room with 1 bunk, making for a total of 30 beds below deck. That means, counting the commanders for the 31, there are currently 3 empty beds, so a few rooms aren't complete full

Probably looks like fuck all space but its actually significant for a ship living quarters

According to google you only need 1 toilet per 10 people and 1 shower per 40 but that seems like BS. Bathroom has 4 large, accessible sized toilets, 4 showers, long benches down the center and a long counter with plenty of space and mirrors for makeup, given how many crewmates wear it

Also, storage room. Could be converted to extra room for another bunk

Hold

Access via ladder

4 cells. No toilets, you get a bucket ✌️ tbh might not even have beds but there's room for em anyway

Desk in case they need to keep an eye on prisoners

3 storage rooms, but i think one of these would actually be a torture room. Probably the one by the desk.

Mechanisms for power and water are probably in one of these rooms as well as a lot of materials for ship repairs

Also of note

Crows nest is definitely big enough for a bench, definitely big enough for... activities. Not as big as the Sunny's though I dont think a gym would fit, I think it'd be more likely that gym equipment is kept on the cannon deck

Idk if the mizzenmast is supposed to go all the way through but that physically can't happen with where the helm needs to be based on screenshots so ✌️

Crows nests are definitely access via climbing nets

Please absolutely feel free to use this as a reference for fanfictions, but I'd appreciate a shout out if you do 💖

[tojipie]

adah … reader sliding toji her panties during a visit … him jerking off with them in his cell … (i know realistically it wouldn’t work bc regulations blah blah blah guards would see it and all BUT but indulge me for a sec) this man would go FERAL FOR THEM ((satosugu would try to steal them deprived freaks))

prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: jerking off, mentions of violence, panty kink .. ? if that’s not a thing ignore that tag

you don’t know what had gotten into you today, truly. 

the idea had popped into your head as you were getting dressed, a little voice in the back of your brain directing your thoughts toward the maxi skirt you’d bought on an outing last weekend.

the fabric was opaque, impossibly silky. ebbing and flowing along the dips of your body all the way down to your ankles. tight enough to show off your figure but not enough to restrict your movements. easy to maneuver in without being too obvious.

that’s precisely why you have no issues wiggling your panties off each hip under one of the prison’s many visitor tables, letting the black lace slip over your knees and around your ankles.

you let one foot slip out of the garment, lifting your leg to brush against toji’s calf slowly.

huh? 

he whispers, amused at what he thinks is a little game of footsie. the inmate palms at the meat of your calf lovingly, traveling down down down until calloused fingers close around your ankle.

oh.

he’s quiet when he says it, eyes blown wide with a mix of shock and arousal. you barely hear him over the bustle of the visitor hall, the small smile gracing his face being your only indication of what he’s about to do.

toji delicately lifts the fabric from around your leg, scanning the perimeter to make sure no one’s looking. emerald eyes bore into yours as your boyfriend balls the garment up in his fist, bringing his closed hand up to his mouth.

and then he kisses it. kisses your panties through the gaps in his fingers without ever looking away, sending a lightning bolt of arousal straight to the deepest pit of your stomach.

you swear you see him stuff the fabric down the front of his pants before he heads back.

˚ ✧ ───

your little gift doesn’t last a chance in the shitty hiding place he picked, haphazardly thrown under the swell of his pillow while he eats lunch in the mess hall. all toji knows is that they were in his cell mates’ greedy little paws by the late afternoon, the two insufferable men huddled around the item like schoolgirls reading a magazine.

“how the fuck did you get these past customs?” geto asks in disbelief, turning the fabric over in the dim light. gojo runs a lithe finger over the lace border in silent interest. 

“didn’t get it in the mail dumbass,” your boyfriend sneers, snatching the black lace from both men with a huff. 

“so y’r broad snuck them to you, huh?” gojo teases, head hanging off the edge of the bunk with boredom. 

toji couldn’t stomp the two young men half to death like he usually would, disappointing as that was. he did only just get visitation rights back again after his last infraction.

the last time he’d beat geto’s face in was after the younger man had got his hands on a picture of you, earning toji 2 months in solitary confinement.

he really did think he was starting to go crazy, spending 22 hours a day in that padded room with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. being fed through a tray slot in the wall like a fucking zoo animal. 

more time in solitary meant less time with you. less time with the picture of you he tacked to the underside of the top bunk with a wad of gum, palming himself slowly as he takes in the sight of your sweet little smile he knows all too well.

less time with the soft clutch of your panties caressing the underside of his dick, catching milky ropes of cum as he finishes all over his stomach on the slab of metal this place calls a bed.

and a whole lot less time of getting to rut into you under the dim light of a spare storage closet, hours after dark. hand closed right around your lips as he takes you over and over and over.

so if toji had to bite his tongue till he drew blood and settle for jerking his dick raw as a distraction, then so be it. at least your little present would keep him good company till’ your next visit.

taglist🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

[arcsimper5]

Aloha 🌺

I’ve recently discovered your blog and I looooveee your fics 😭.

I saw that your requests are open but I didn’t see any rules so excuse me if I did something wrong.

May I request a sweet (possessive) Hunter x F!Reader fic? I loved how you touched on Hunters doubts in Flutter but I’d love to know how you’d think he reacts when there is an idiots in love trope going on.

Spice/smut is always welcome but I don’t want to restrict your creativity.

Thank you 🙏🏻🌺

Hellooooooo lovely anon!

I'm so sorry this took so long, I've been flitting from project to project and not had time to really sit down and think about anything!

So, I wrote what turned into basically a prequel for Flutter, as within that there's a mention of how reader and Hunter got together.

This is a spicy little ficlet, so I hope it's what you wanted and what you were looking for!

Tension

Pairing: Hunter x Reader Explicit content within! Warnings: Angst, pining, idiots in love, guilt, swearing, mentions of bad past.

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

Hunter could practically feel the anger radiating from you as you tucked Omega into the spare bunk, making sure Lula was carefully snuggled under her arm before you leant in, whispering goodnight.

Your soft smile, reserved for the young girl, was quickly replaced with a glare as you tugged the curtain across and turned to him, a fire unlike anything he’d ever seen in your eyes.

“My room. Now,” you instructed, heading for the makeshift quarters you had in what had formerly been the storage room. It was by no means large, barely fitting you slightly larger than regulation bed and a small storage chest side by side, but it gave you privacy at least.

If Wrecker, Tech or Echo noticed your anger, they didn’t say anything, all merely shrugging or shaking their heads when Hunter sent them a desperate look, one that screamed ‘help me’.

But he was on his own, letting out a deep sigh as he trudged after you, his head hanging a little.

You stepped to the side, allowing him into the room with you before you closed the door behind you, crossing your arms across your chest.

Hunter took another deep breath as he turned, bracing himself for your telling off.

“How could you?” 

The simple question was laced with venom, anger pouring off of you in waves as you hissed it, leaning forward a little.

“Who the kriff do you think you are that you can just decide that Omega is going to live with a bunch of strangers she just met, and not even talk to us about it?”

“They’re not strangers,” Hunter protested, “they…”

“They are to her!”

Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes stinging as you stared at Hunter, trying to keep your composure.

“I know what it’s like, to be cast off because no-one wants you, Hunter. You can’t just… do that!”

“I… I wasn’t trying to abandon her,” Hunter murmured, shame flooding his system. Any anger he’d felt at your earlier comments began to melt away as you continued, the salty scent of your tears hitting him like a speeder.

“But that’s what she’ll think,” you choked, breath catching in your throat, “that kid has never been allowed to make a decision in her whole damn life, and the first one she’s made, you try and take away from her!”

“Because I was doing what I thought was best!” Hunter protested, folding his arms to mirror yours, his defences going up once more.

“For who? For her? Or for you?”

“That’s not fair,” Hunter snarled, his eyes narrowing, “Cut and Suu are good people. She’d be with kids her own age…”

“I don’t care if they’re the Force incarnate!” you shouted back, immediately closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath, trying to claw back a sense of calm. “You can’t just decide she’s going to live somewhere else without talking to her, or to us!”

“We don’t know the first thing about kids!” the sergeant barked back, taking a step towards you. “How are we supposed to look after her?”

“Trying would be a good start,” you snapped back sharply, “not shouting at her for making a simple mistake, not trying to dump her on other people. Omega saved your life on Kamino and Force knows she saved all of our shebs back there. Cut, Suu and the kids wouldn’t even have been on that shuttle if it wasn’t for her!”

That silenced Hunter for a moment, your words swarming over him.

“She’s just a kid,” he protested weakly, shaking his head. “I… I’m sorry. I panicked. I… I thought she’d be better off with them. Safer, with them. Being here, on this ship… it’s no life for a kid. It’s barely a life for us… for you.”

His gaze softened as he looked back up at you, the sincerity in them disarming you abruptly.

“Hunter,” you croaked, your tears finally spilling over, “she… She wants to be here. With you. Her family.”

“But she deserves…”

Cocking an eyebrow at the derisive snort you let out, Hunter’s eyes narrowed once more, less anger and more confusion driving the action this time.

“Didn’t we have this exact conversation just after Onderon? Before everything went to shit?” you murmured, dropping your arms to your sides. “You trying to get me to leave with the refugees because it would be ‘safer’? Because I ‘deserved better’?”

Hunter shuffled uncomfortably, drawing in a deep breath as he too let his arms drop, his eyes closing against your reasoning.

“I’ll tell you now what I told you then; I’ve made my choice. I would rather spend my days locked in an Imperial prison than apart from you, from my squad. Omega made the same choice. You seem to have that effect on people.”

The joke caught Hunter by surprise, a short peal of laughter escaping his lips before he shook his head, his expression softening once again.

“For our sins,” he huffed dramatically, your lips turning up into a soft, fond smile for the first time since you’d left Salucemi.

“Hunter,” you called, the exhaustion in your voice suddenly clear. Looking you over cautiously, Hunter stepped forward, coming to meet you as you raised your hands. His met yours without hesitation, lacing your fingers together as your foreheads came to rest against one anothers, both closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. 

“It won’t happen again,” he promised lowly, his guilt obvious, “and… I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing his hands softly, offering silent comfort. “Look… if things get too bad, I… I’ll take Omega. I’ll take her and find somewhere, and we can…”

“No…”

The word was huffed so softly, you weren’t sure Hunter had spoken at all until you opened your eyes, shocked at what you found.

Hunter’s gorgeous, chestnut grey eyes were reddened, a single tear rolling down his tattooed cheek, your breath stolen by the way he looked at you.

“Hunter?”

“I… I need you,” he admitted gently, “I… Maker, cyare, I…”

Your stomach fluttered even as your confusion grew.

The relationship you shared with Hunter had always been… different.

While you could joke with Wrecker, chat for hours with Tech and reminisce with Echo, Hunter had always been more… intense. 

The first time you’d found him having a panic attack, you hadn’t hesitated to pull him into your room, laying him down and stroking soothing hands through his hair until the panic subsided.

By the time he woke up some four hours later, he’d been shocked to find himself in a comfortable bed, surrounded by plush pillows with an eye mask on and soothing ocean sounds playing from a small device on your trunk.

Since that day, you’d confided in each other, become closer in a way you had never thought possible. And selfishly, it had left you wanting more.

More of Hunter. More of his attention, his affection, his body and mind… But you would never ask. It was against regulations, and it was a distraction. Until the war ended.

‘He doesn’t mean it like that,’ you chastised yourself inwardly, ‘he doesn’t. He can’t.’

“Hunter?” you managed, the question breathed into the space between you, your eyes still locked with his, “What… What do…”

“On Onderon… I… I didn’t want you to go. I was so glad you chose me, chose us. And then, seeing you cuffed in the cells… I thought I’d made a bad call. I thought I might lose you. I should have… I should have said something then, but…”

“About what?” you prompted into the void left by his cut off sentence, his eyes closing once again as he sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

You couldn’t suppress the gasp that left you as Hunter pulled you against him suddenly, pressing you back against the wall of your room. With once swift motion, Hunter’s hands, still laced with yours, lifted your arms and pinned them over your head.

He withdrew from the keldabe, shifting just enough to lean down, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

For a moment, your brain simply went dark. It stuttered, trying to process the feel of Hunter’s lips on yours, the weight of his body pressing against you, all taut muscle and strong grip, the swipe of his tongue against your mouth…

Letting out a soft moan into the kiss, you opened up to him, Hunter taking full advantage. As your tongues touched, you both let out a whine, your entire body shuddering under his touch.

The reaction seemed to break whatever spell had drawn you together, the sergeant almost leaping back, letting your hands go and holding his own up as if to not appear threatening.

“I… I’m sorry,” he gasped as you leant against the wall, panting for breath, “I shouldn’t have… I should…”

You cut him off with a kiss of your own, practically throwing yourself against him, pinning him against the wall this time. As your hands moved up his chest and to his neck, threading into his thick curls and tugging gently, his wound around your back, clutching at you desperately.

The next few moments were a blur, hands roaming over each other's bodies, pulling at clothing, teeth and lips and tongues clashing in a passionate dance.

By the time your naked back made contact with your bedsheets, you were a babbling mess, barely coherent as Hunter’s mouth moved over your breasts, flicking over one nipple while clever fingers toyed with the other.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” he murmured into your soft flesh, “no karking idea.”

“Is, is this really happening?” you gasped as your back arched, drawn into Hunter’s teasing touches.

“I karking hope so,” he purred against your stomach as he made his way lower and lower, kissing every inch he could reach, “because if it’s not, and I wake up alone in my bunk with a hard-on, I’m coming to find you, and making it real.”

You could only shudder and cry out in response as his tongue finally found your centre, licking stripe over your clit, to your dripping entrance.

“Now lay back, mesh’la, and let me take care of you.”

[neon-junkie]

In the Heat of the Moment - Chpt.9

Summary: “Less than ten percent of domesticated species go into heats,” accord to Tech and his research, and (un)fortunately, you’re one of that ten percent. What else are you meant to do? Trapped during a heat cycle with five men - five willing men who are happy to help relieve you, but not all have the confidence to say so.

Relationship: The Bad Batch x fem!Reader (she/her)

Tags: Heats, Mating, Sex pollen, Friends with benefits, Friends to lovers, Slow burn, Sex, Jealousy, Pining, Tags to be added.

Word count: 2k

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 10 - not published yet]

Chapter 9 - An Excellent Listener

Thank the stars that the Marauder not only managed to exit the atmosphere of Tatooine, but also drift off into hyperspace! Everybody let out a sigh of relief as the stars around them turned into a whirlpool of lights, a sign that you’re finally on your way, with Kamino as your destination.

It’s going to take a few standard hours to reach the terraformed surface of Kamino, so the Batch are up to their usual shenanigans. As for you, you’re sticking to your quarters. That argument with Hunter is still brewing in your mind, and you might as well lock yourself away to prevent your poor Sergeant from being bothered by your hormones.

You’ve spent your time doing some cleaning, rearranging, folding clothes and changing your sheets. A deep clean never hurts, and it can be good for the mind.

But do you know what isn’t good for the mind? Or better yet - who isn’t good for the mind?

‘KNOCK KNOCK.’

“Come in,” you respond without missing a beat.

Tall, slender legs come into your line of sight, seeing as you’re sitting on the floor, rearranging your underbed storage. “Figured you might need this,” Crosshair comments as he enters your dorm, a cup of tea in hand.

“Oh,” you sigh. Crosshair was the last person that you expected to be bringing you a cup of tea. Well, besides Hunter…

Crosshair places the tea on your bedside table, and blankly gestures to your bed. “Sure, you can sit,” you nod.

Once seated, Crosshair rests back on his elbows, really making himself at home. His eyes dart around your room, noticing your decorations, memorabilia and trinkets scattered about. He doesn’t come in here often - if ever - so you can’t blame him for having a browse.

“Comfortable?” you sarcastically comment, seeing as his slender form is somehow taking up half of your bed.

“Not quite,” Crosshair responds. “Need to tuck myself into bed,” he grins, and begins untucking your duvet, earning a slap on the hand.

“I just made that,” you grumble.

“I noticed, fresh sheets and all. How kind of you,” he smirks, finally earning a laugh from you. “Now, stop distracting yourself, and come up here and talk to me,” Crosshair orders, giving the blank space on the bed a gentle pat.

“You want to talk?” your brow raises, yet you find yourself finishing off your organising, pushing the storage container back under your bunk.

Crosshair shrugs. “I figured it’s you who wants to talk, and I’m an excellent listener.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit yourself on your bed, getting as comfortable as you can. Only now does Crosshair’s cologne reach your nose, warm and musky, a comforting scent - but you’ll never admit that to him. Crosshairs shifts upright, now resting against the back of your bunk with his legs crossed. At least he’s not wearing shoes, nor his armour, keeping your bed clean!

You’re silent, so after letting out a sigh, Crosshair starts things off. “Hunter does care about you, you know.”

“Ugh,” you groan, already debating shooing the sniper out of your room.

“He does. That’s why he brought you those supplements. I was with him when it happened. He wouldn’t stop mumbling about your little issue, and figured it wouldn’t do any harm to have that option available.”

“He could have spoken to me about it first,” you shrug.

“How?” Crosshair replies. “We had the option then and there, and it isn’t exactly a conversation to be had over the comm. Might as well buy the supplements, and if you decide not to take them, then that’s your choice.”

“Exactly! I’ve chosen not to take them! Hunter can’t complain about my decision-”

“-But Hunter also has the right to be annoyed.” Crosshair shakes his head. Acting as the mediator was not on his list of things to do today, yet here he is. “When you’re part of a squad, every choice you make has the ability to impact others, including those closest to you. You know what Hunter is like. You’ve seen him suffering from migraines, poor vision, stomach bugs. His enhanced senses come at a cost, just like the rest of us.”

“And what’s your ‘cost,’ hm?” you pry. Sure, you’ve seen Wrecker suffer from his aching muscles, Tech with an inability to switch off his mind, even Echo has had his fair share of suffering, despite not being defective in the Batch’s way.

Crosshair lets out a grunt. “You’ve never seen me wearing my reading glasses.”

“Reading glasses?!” you repeat with a laugh. “I didn’t think that you-”

“-Exactly. I don’t wear them around others,” he waves his hand. “Beside the point, Hunter is going stir-crazy from that scent of yours,” Crosshair boldly points to your crotch, causing you to clash your thighs together.

“So, what you’re saying is that I should start taking them, for Hunter?” you question, seeing as that’s what Crosshair has been hinting at.

“No. It’s too late for that.”

“Well, then what?” you grumble, waving your arms up in frustration.

Crosshair raises his brows, offering you a suggestive expression. “Just kriff him already. Do us all a favour, and kriff him until you’re both satisfied.”

“Crosshair!” You yelp, grabbing a pillow to smack him over the head with.

“That’s Hunter’s name that you should be yelling, not mine!” he smirks, ripping the pillow from your grasp to smack you with, before chucking it across the room. “You need to do us all the favour! Hunter’s been in a sulk ever since you started your strange mating ritual, and the rest of us can’t bare to tolerate him any longer!”

With a huff, you send Crosshair a glare, only for him to mimic it. “I’ll think about it,” you grumble. The thought of sleeping with Hunter has been on your mind, but on your terms - not on Crosshair’s, as strange as that sounds.

“You better,” Crosshair playfully threatens. His arms cross against his chest as he leans back comfortably. “And just think…” he trails off, biting back a chuckle. “…Once you’ve had Hunter, there’s only me left to tick off your list.”

“Oh my stars!” you exclaim, your eyes darting around your room to find something to throw at him in frustration. Your cup of tea? Tempting, but you’d rather drink it. Saying that, you settle on swatting his arm before taking a well-needed drink.

Crosshair laughs. He truly, deeply enjoys winding you up! And it’s your own fault for taking his bait.

“Wait-” you sputter, placing the tea on your bedside table. “How did you find out about the others?”

Crosshair sends you a look, but he doesn’t hold back on the juicy gossip. “Everybody can hear you and Tech kriffling like lothbunnies, you two aren’t exactly quiet. Echo quite openly admitted to it, and Wrecker? Big guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it happened.”

Letting out a grumble, you come to realise the situation that you’ve found yourself in. Maybe Hunter was right - maybe you should have started taking those supplements, preventing yourself from sleeping with more than half of your squad.

Then again, you’re having some well-needed fun, and it’s not like your men have any issues with it. If anything, they seem more than happy to help with your biological needs, as well as blowing off some steam. However, you know damn-well that you’ll all need to sit down and talk this through when the time is right.

Maybe once you’ve kriffed the entire squad…?

“Dammit,” is all you mutter as a response. Can you blame them? Wrecker especially? You’re certain that you’d be flexing if you slept with someone such as yourself.

“You poor thing,” Crosshair taunts, playfully sticking out his bottom lip. “But then again, we all saw it coming.”

Darting your eyes to Crosshair, you dare question, “what do you mean?”

The sniper lets out a soft chuckle, his arms crossing against his chest. He shakes his head as he explains, “a pretty girl was assigned to a squad of men. Somebody was bound to sleep with you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” you bat your lashes, which only makes Crosshair roll his eyes. Way to focus on the important points!

“Of course I do,” he scoffs, and you’re almost certain you heard him mumble ‘duh!’ under his breath. “But like I was saying, it was bound to happen, even if we all had a pact against it.”

Mouth hanging open, you question, “a pact? What?!” barely able to hold back on your laughter.

Crosshairs lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I’m shooting myself in the foot here,” he curses, digging a ditch that he’s content on not escaping. “When you first joined, Hunter made us swear not to try anything with you. Said it would ruin the dynamic, and all that. I guess that’s why he’s been keeping his distance, alongside the enhanced senses issue.”

“Are you serious?!” you let out a laugh. Now that is a sight you wish you could have seen! Little Sergeant Hunter asking his squad not to get physical with the Jedi. It’s understandable, yet you can’t believe they had that conversation!

“And Tech was the first one to break it,” Crosshair huffs, although there’s a sense of pride in his expression. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Raising your hand, you defend poor Tech. “In his defence, I did pounce on him. He seemed rather eager, though!”

“Good man,” Crosshair comments with a nod of his head. If it had been Hunter who went first, Crosshair would have been beyond furious. But Tech? Yeah, Crosshair has his back. His eyes flick between you, and your forgotten drink. “Your tea’s going cold,” he gestures. You willingly take the mug between your hands, enjoying what’s left of your beverage.

Rising to his feet, Crosshair bids farewell. “I’ll leave you to your… organising,” he shrugs, heading for the door.

As the door opens, you call out his name. Crosshair looks back with his usual monotone expression, but a small smile appears on his lips as you reply, “thank you for the talk… and the tea!”

“Like I said, I’m an excellent listener,” he mindlessly shrugs, and leaves you to it, shutting the door behind him.

Now alone, you question if you have any energy left within you to do some more cleaning and organising, not that there’s much left to do. Your dorm is, after all, as small as it can be. Curse the GAR for always picking the cheap route! The time on your clock reads that it’s late, and the surprise yawn that escapes your lips helps you decide that it’s time for bed.

Hopefully, snuggled up within your blankets, you can plan on how to approach Hunter… or avoid him even more…

[ghostchems]

thief - silco x female!reader - part four

silco finds himself at your door

tags: drug addiction, drug abuse, shimmer, shimmer abuse, KNIFE-PLAY? fucking so hard a table breaks. also some words i think i would like to hear from silco myself. also -gasp- silco tattoos. 18+! mdni! 4.6k words. part one/two/three. ao3 link.

Rain pattered against Silco, drenching his jacket and face—a rhythmic backdrop to the tension hanging in the air. He stood motionless outside your door, his hand suspended over the knob. This wasn't part of your arrangement; you weren't supposed to see each other today. Yet here he was.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of complications, each problem more vexing than the last. Enforcers, emboldened by some unknown factor, were becoming increasingly intrusive, poking their noses into affairs that didn't concern them. He already had a meeting with Marcus scheduled, but his temper was far too flared to handle it now. The chem barons, perhaps sensing weakness, were causing him no end of grief with their incessant demands and power plays. And then there was his daughter, Jinx—she had reached that precarious age where rebellion seemed to be her default state. She didn't just dislike listening; she actively went out of her way to do the opposite of what he asked.

The weight of these problems pressed down on Silco, threatening to crush him under their combined force. But he would manage this, just as he'd managed everything else. His resolve was what had kept him alive throughout it all. He'd found ways to blow off steam over the years. Some more violent than others. The satisfying crunch of bones beneath his fist, the metallic tang of blood in the air—these were familiar comforts. But today, his mind fixated on a different kind of release. He wanted you.

He knew where you lived—a tiny hole in the wall from which he had once sent Sevika to retrieve you. She had described it to him: one room with a table, bunk beds built into the wall. You slept on the bottom bunk, while the top served as storage for your clothes. No cabinets for food. Silco's hand tightens around the doorknob. What was he doing here? He could have had you brought to him again if all he truly wanted was a quick fuck.

Silco is running—running from his responsibilities, seeking to exert power and control over someone. Over you.

The door burst open with a resounding crash, jolting you from your slumber. In an instant, your hand flew beneath your pillow, fingers wrapping around the familiar handle of your knife. Heart pounding, you spring up, blade at the ready—only to freeze as your vision clears.

"Silco?" you breathe, lowering the knife but not releasing it entirely. "What are you—"

He cuts you off, striding into the small room with purpose. "What am I doing here?” He echoes, eyes narrowing. You still have the knife pointed in his direction, your heart thundering in your ears. The last time someone had broken into your home, they'd knocked you out and left a nasty bruise on your forehead—all for him. But seeing Silco here now... you feel weak. The knife wobbles in your hand. "You should know why I'm here," Silco growls, his voice low and dangerous. He slinks closer, the power of his presence rendering you unable to move. Your brain has short circuited. This is outside of the norm you’ve established and just seeing him makes your body pulse with need.

In a swift motion, Silco grips your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin as he wrenches the knife from your grasp. A gasp rips from your throat and your eyes lock with his, the tension in the room building. He brings the blade up to your chin, the cold steel forcing your head to tilt upward towards him. You can feel his breath, hot against your face, see the hunger burning in his mismatched eyes. They swallow you whole. You feel like you’re still trying to play catch up but his intentions are clear. With a low growl, he closes the distance between you. His lips crash against yours in a vicious kiss, all teeth and tongue, demanding and possessive.

The knife slams into the table with a resounding thud, its blade quivering as it stands upright in the worn wood. Silco's now-free hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You respond with equal fervor, your body melting into his, despite the dampness of his clothes. The kiss deepens, growing more heated with each passing second. Your bodies press closer, the dampness of Silco's clothes seeping into your thin shirt. Just as you feel yourself getting lost in the moment, he abruptly breaks away, leaving you breathless and slightly dazed.

His fingers trace along your face, following the curve of your cheek down to your jaw. The touch is gentle, almost tender—a stark contrast to the ferocity of the kiss moments ago. You lean into his hand, your eyes searching his face. These softer touches have become more frequent lately, each one a tantalizing taste of something deeper.

"I thought I was in trouble," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco's lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and cruelty. The fact that you worry about such things makes heat pool in his gut. "Not yet," he replies, his voice low and full of promise. The words send a shiver down your spine. He takes a step back and drapes his rain-soaked coat over the back of the chair, the wet fabric leaving a dark stain on the worn wood. His gaze rakes over you, taking in your disheveled appearance. You suddenly feel exposed, becoming aware of your state of undress. The thin fabric of your T-shirt did little to shield you from his heated eyes, and you fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms. Silco's expectant look bores into you, a silent demand that sent a shiver down your spine. This is uncharted territory. He had never shown up unannounced like this before, and the change from your usual arrangement left you feeling off-balance and vulnerable.

"I... I would have cleaned up if I knew you were coming. Wasn’t expecting you," you manage to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand instinctively moved to smooth down your untamed hair, a futile attempt at composure in the face of his intense presence.

Silco's lips curled into a smirk, that predatory gleam still in his eyes. "Clearly," he drawled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the small room. "But here I am. And you know what I want."

You're surprised to find that your usual craving for shimmer is absent. Instead, your entire being is focused on the man before you, on giving him exactly what he needs. His presence alone seems to be intoxicating enough. You lean forward, your lips seeking his, but at the last moment, Silco tilts his head away. Undeterred, your mouth finds purchase on his jaw, trailing soft kisses along the sharp angle before moving down to his neck. Your hands, meanwhile, busy themselves with his clothing, fingers working deftly to undo the buttons of his vest and dress shirt.

As you work, you can feel the tension in Silco's body, the taut muscles beneath your exploring hands. His breath hitches slightly as your lips brush against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, and you file that information away for future use. The layers of his clothing fall away, revealing more and more of his skin. You take your time, savoring each newly exposed inch, your touches hungry. All the while, Silco remains still, allowing you to work, his good eye half-lidded but watchful, gauging your every move.

You peel away the last layer of his clothing, your eyes widen in surprise. Silco's skin is adorned with intricate tattoos, each one a work of art etched into his flesh. Two syringes trail along his v-lines, their needles pointing downward towards his cock. On his left pectoral, a fierce shark seems to swim across his skin, its presence as intimidating as the man himself. Your gaze shifts to his right pec, where a dagger appears to be cutting through his very skin. Your fingers trace the outlines of these tattoos, feeling the slightly raised skin beneath your touch. You look up at Silco, a question in your eyes. He meets your gaze unflinchingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Surprised?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You barely have time to nod before Silco's hands are on you, pushing you back against the table. The edge digs into your lower back as he presses his body against yours, his skin hot against your thin shirt. His hands drift down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Suddenly, his fingers close around the handle of the knife still embedded in the table. With a swift motion, he yanks it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Your breath catches in your throat as he brings the knife to your collar.

"Don't move," he growls, an order. The cold steel slides against your skin as he begins to cut away your shirt, the fabric parting easily under the sharp blade. Your heart pounds in your chest, heavy breathes leaving your lips as Silco methodically destroys your clothing, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. It slips off your body, leaving you in your underwear.

Silco begins to trail the knife along your collarbone. Your breath hitches, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through you. Slowly, deliberately, he guides the knife downward, the flat of the blade gliding over the swell of your breasts. Your skin prickles, every nerve ending hyper-aware of the dangerous caress. Silco's eyes are glued to your exposed body. The knife's path leaves a trail of tingling sensation in its wake, contrasting with the heat emanating from his body pressed against yours. You can feel his rapid heartbeat echoing your own.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. The single word sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire deep within you. You're acutely aware of your vulnerability, completely at his mercy - and yet, you've never felt more alive.

You feel a sharp sting just beneath your breast. A small gasp escapes your lips as you realize Silco has nicked your skin with the knife. His eyes don’t change, still cool and icy.

"My apologies," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I got... carried away." You know he doesn’t mean it.

Before you can respond, Silco leans down, his hot breath ghosting over the small wound. His tongue darts out, lapping at the tiny droplets of blood that have formed. The sensation sends a shiver through your body, a mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you breathless. Silco's tongue continues its ministrations, soothing the cut with gentle, circular motions. The contrast between the cold steel of the knife and the warm wetness of his tongue is intoxicating. You find yourself arching into his touch, craving more of this dangerous attention.

As if reading your thoughts, Silco's mouth moves from the small cut to your breast. His lips close around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. A soft moan escapes your lips as he alternates between gentle sucking and light grazing with his teeth. His free hand cups your other breast, kneading the soft flesh and teasing the nipple with his thumb. The knife, still in his hand, trails along your side, cold compared to the heat of his mouth. The dual sensations send shivers through your body, heightening your arousal. You silently beg for more as your hand cards through his wet hair.

Silco's eyes darken with unbridled desire. His voice commanding and dark makes you shiver. "Turn around," he all but hisses, another order.

You comply without hesitation, your body thrumming with anticipation. As you turn, Silco's hand presses firmly between your shoulder blades, bending you over the table. The wood creaks beneath your heated skin, making you gasp. His body looms over you, his presence overwhelming your senses. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal evident as it presses against you. Silco's breath is hot against your ear as he leans in close.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his praise sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His hands trail down your sides, gripping your hips with a possessive intensity that leaves you breathless. Silco's voice drops to a smokey whisper. "You're almost perfect," he says, his words sending your head spinning. Almost? You hear something being placed beside your head on the table. Turning slightly, your breath catches in your throat as you see a syringe filled with shimmering liquid, its needle pointed directly at your eye.

The sight of the shimmer so close, combined with Silco's words, sends a conflicting wave of desire and fear through you. You're acutely aware of your vulnerability, bent over the table with Silco looming behind you, and now the temptation of the drug right beside you. Your heart races, all the tension building inside of you until it’s unbearable. The proximity of the shimmer sends your senses into overdrive, your skin prickling with heightened sensitivity. Your fingers twitch involuntarily, itching to reach for the syringe. The craving builds within you, a familiar yet intense desire that threatens to overshadow everything else.

But even as your body yearns for the drug, another part of you is aware of Silco's presence behind you. His touch, his scent, the heat of his body – they all compete with the allure of the shimmer. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your conflicted desires evident in the sound. You press your forehead against the cool surface of the table, trying to ground yourself amidst the swirling sensations. Your breath comes in short, rapid gasps as you struggle to maintain control, your body trembling with need – but whether for the shimmer or for Silco, you're no longer sure.

Suddenly, you feel Silco's hand on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding. Before you can react, there's a sharp sting as the needle pierces your skin. The cool liquid rushes into your veins, and within seconds, your world explodes into a kaleidoscope of sensations. Your muscles tense involuntarily, every fiber of your being coming alive with an electric intensity. You can feel each individual muscle contracting, the sensation both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. Silco’s eyes are on you, leaning back now so he can watch as the drug consumes you. Your back arches, pressing you further against Silco, who groans in response to your writhing form.

"That's it," Silco whispers, his voice thick with desire. "Let it take you." His hands roam your body, feeling the way your muscles twitch and spasm under his touch. The dual sensations of the shimmer coursing through you and Silco's exploring hands send you spiraling into a realm of pure sensation. He seems to be electrified by your reaction, his hands never ceasing their exploration of your trembling form. "So beautiful," he praises you again as a gasp falls from your lips.

Your senses are heightened to an almost painful degree. Every touch, every breath, every subtle movement is amplified tenfold. You're lost in a sea of pleasure and pain, your body no longer your own as it responds to both the drug and Silco's ministrations. Through the haze of power and pleasure, you feel Silco shift behind you. The sound of a belt buckle being undone reaches your ears. Your body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending on fire. Deft fingers remove your underwear.

Silco's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. You feel him position himself at your entrance, the heat of his body radiating against your sensitive skin. With a low groan, he pushes forward, sliding into you with ease, your arousal allowing him a smooth entry. The sensation of him filling you is overwhelming, amplified by the shimmer coursing through your veins. Your muscles clench around him involuntarily, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Silco.

“Perfection.”

He begins to move, his thrusts hard and frantic. The shimmer amplifies every sensation, making you feel as if you're being split apart and remade with each powerful stroke. Your fingers grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white from the intensity of your grasp. The room fills with the sounds of your combined pleasure - grunts, moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Silco's pace becomes increasingly erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. Your own climax builds rapidly, a white-hot pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

There's a loud crack. The table, unable to withstand the force of your enhanced strength and Silco's relentless pounding, snaps clean in half. You both cry out in surprise as you crash to the floor, a tangle of limbs and splintered wood.

For a moment, you both lie there, stunned. Then, Silco lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "Well," he says, his voice rough with exertion and amusement, "it seems we've made quite a mess." Silco's arms tighten around you, his body still intimately connected with yours. With a grunt, Silco shifts, carefully maneuvering you both away from the splintered remains of the table. He doesn't withdraw from you, instead positioning himself behind you once more. The familiar feeling of his chest pressed against your back sends a shiver down your spine. His breathing is ragged, hot against your neck, betraying his barely contained desire.

Silco's hands grip your hips with an almost bruising force, guiding you onto your hands and knees. "That's it," he husks, the usual coolness of his voice slipping. "Show me how much you want this." His fingers dig into your flesh, a testament to his waning control.

You arch your back, pressing against him as he begins to move. Silco's hands roam your form, alternating between gentle caresses and possessive grips that are sure to leave marks. His touch is frantic, needy, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. The rhythm builds rapidly, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he takes you from behind. The room fills once again with the sounds of your shared pleasure, punctuated by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath you. Silco's grunts and groans become more frequent, more primal, as he loses himself in the sensation.

"You're mine," he hisses, one hand snaking up to tangle in your hair. He pulls, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to arch your back further, changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you cry out. You curse and whine, your nails digging into the floorboards as he rails you.

Silco's other hand slides around to your front, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs in tight circles, his movements becoming more erratic as his own pleasure builds. "Come for me," he demands, his voice rough with need. "Show me how good I make you feel."

“S-Silco!” You gasp, your body convulsing with pleasure. The shimmer makes you feel as if you're floating and crashing to earth all at once. As your climax approaches, you feel Silco tense behind you. His grip on your hips tightens, sure to leave bruises. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he finds his release. He lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours.

The sensation of him pulsing within you, combined with the shimmer coursing through your veins, sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure, your body shuddering and clenching around him. You cry out, your voice hoarse and raw, Silco's name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The aftershocks subside and you collapse onto the floor with Silco following suit, draping himself over your back. Both of you breathe heavily, his arms wrapping around you to keep you close as you both come down from your high. The shimmer continues to buzz through your system. Silco's lips brush against your shoulder, trailing up to your neck. His kisses are softer now, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. "You're exquisite," he murmurs against your skin, his tinged with satisfaction. It’s so comfortable like this, to be in his arms on the floor. To be safe with him. You know it won’t last.

Silco's demeanor suddenly shifts, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Get up," he orders, his hands already moving to disentangle himself from you. "Get dressed. Now."

You comply, albeit reluctantly, your body still humming from the effects of both the shimmer and your intense encounter. As you stand, you notice the tattered remains of your shirt on the floor, torn apart by Silco's earlier fervor. A small sigh escapes your lips as you pick up the ruined shirt. "You destroyed my favorite shirt," you murmur, a hint of disappointment in your voice.

Silco's eyes flick to the torn fabric in your hands, a fleeting look of amusement crossing his features before his expression hardens once more. "I'll find you a new one," he states matter-of-factly, already buttoning up his own shirt with swift, practiced movements, hiding away his recently discovered tattoos.

You rummage through your belongings, finally finding a sweatshirt you've sewn together yourself and a pair of tattered sweatpants. You slip them on, acutely aware of how disheveled you must look compared to Silco and his tailored suit. He’s composed and put-together despite his coat still soaking wet. You, on the other hand, are a mess of patchwork fabric and frayed edges. His gaze sweeps over you, his expression unreadable. You can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness under his scrutiny.

Silco's eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance. "Come with me," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for a response, he strides towards the door, expecting you to follow.

You hurry after him, stepping out into the damp streets of Zaun. The rain has lessened to a light drizzle, but the air is still thick with moisture and the ever-present chemical haze. You walk beside Silco and you can't help but notice the stark contrast between you two. People on the street turn to stare as you pass. Some eyes linger on Silco with a mixture of fear and respect, while others dart to you with curiosity and confusion. The weight of their gazes makes you ever more aware of how out of place you are beside him.

Feeling increasingly self-conscious, you pull up the hood of your sweatshirt, trying to shrink into it. The fabric, worn thin in places, offers little protection against the scrutiny of passersby. You can't help but feel like a stray cat walking alongside a sleek panther. Silco, for his part, seems utterly unaffected by the attention. He walks with purpose, his stride confident and unhurried. The crowd parts before him, people stepping aside to clear his path. It's a stark reminder of his status in Zaun, of the power he wields.

As you continue to walk beside him, you can't shake the feeling of being an outsider. In the privacy of your home, the differences between you and Silco seemed to matter less. But out here, in the open streets of Zaun, those differences are thrown into your face. You follow Silco through the winding streets of Zaun, your mind hazy from the shimmer still coursing through your veins. Eventually, he leads you into a dimly lit alleyway, the air thick with the stench of chemicals and decay.

Silco stops abruptly, turning to face you. "Do you know where we are?" he asks, his voice low and intense.

You glance around, the surroundings vaguely familiar. A chill runs down your spine as recognition dawns. "This is... where you first found me," you whisper.

A grim smile plays on Silco's lips. "Indeed. This is where I took you and… where I saw your potential." His eyes narrow as he studies you. "You were so desperate for shimmer, for the power that it holds. And yet..." He trails off, disappointment evident in his tone. Silco's gaze feels like a physical weight upon you. "You're not doing anything with it," he continues, his voice a mix of frustration and contemplation. "You take the shimmer, feel its effects, and then what? You go home. It's a waste."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication.

"You could punch through that wall now," he says, gesturing to the very wall he had you pressed against moments ago. "Pulverize it into rubble. What's stopping you?"

Your heart races, anxiety and confusion swirling in your mind. The shimmer's effects still linger, making your muscles twitch with untapped power. You open your mouth, but no words come out. You're at a loss, unsure of what he wants from you. Silco steps closer, his presence looming over you. His hand reaches out, cupping your face with unexpected gentleness.

"You're more than just a pretty face," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "You have so much potential. I see it in you, even if you don't see it yourself."

His words, combined with his gentle touch, send a wave of conflicting emotions through you. The warmth of his hand on your face is comforting, filling a void you didn't realize was there. Yet, the weight of his expectations still hangs heavy in the air. Suddenly, Silco's hands move towards your throat. The shimmer coursing through your veins heightens your reflexes, and before you can even process what's happening, you react instinctively. Your hands shoot out, gripping his shoulders and shoving him forcefully against the alley wall. The impact reverberates through the bricks, and you hear Silco's breath leave him in a rush.

For a moment, you stand there, shocked by your own actions. Your hands are still pressed against Silco's chest, pinning him to the wall. The strength flowing through your muscles is exhilarating, but it also terrifies you.

"I... I won't hurt anyone," you stammer, your voice shaky but determined. You step back, releasing Silco from your grip and almost folding into yourself. Memories of your past flash through your mind - the hunger, the fear, the constant struggle to survive. You shake your head, trying to clear the painful images. Growing up in the lanes… you were hurt and you still hurt to this day from it. You won’t do the same to anyone else.

"What if they deserve it?" Silco purrs, though his gaze remains cold. He straightens his suit, composing himself after your unexpected display of strength. “You have the power to do something. To be someone. And I’ll be here when you realize that.”

With those words hanging in the air, Silco turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the alley. Again.

Hazy eyes drift down to your hands. They clench into fists.

Silco is nearly out of the alley when he hears a loud crack! He turns to watch as that wall comes crumbling down.

[drabblesandimagines]

Tranquility

Joshua Rosfield x fem reader Minor spoilers, I guess? Fluffy fluff. Inspired by this request.

An exaggerated sigh comes from behind you, intent to draw your attention. You smile but continue to read, turning the page with minimal fuss.

You’ve been reading at the desk for a little while now, in the chambers the two of you have been assigned in the Hideaway. You’d be happy enough in the bunks, but Clive truly doted on his younger brother and he had organised a room formerly being used for storage to be repurposed – a bed, desk and chair quickly sourced and put in place.

Joshua is on strict bedrest under Tarja’s and Jote’s instructions. You hadn’t escaped orders either, been given a stern warning to leave Joshua in solitude– as if you’d want to delay him regaining his strength. You’d easily preoccupied yourself, having arrived at the Hideaway a few days prior with Jote and helping with various jobs. You were midway through bringing supplies in off the skiff when Clive had called your name on the pier, asking you to please go and keep Joshua company. It turns out Ifrit had found the Phoenix bent over on the staircase, coughing, a weary hand on the wall, determined to seek you out after being separated for so long.

It had been nerve-wracking to meet Clive in Tabor, Joshua’s sworn First Shield, especially with the unique courtship you and Joshua had. You weren’t betrothed or wed for that matter, but you lived as if you were, and you were sure the brothers would have so much to catch up on that Joshua might not have even had time to mention you. You’d heard so many tales of Clive over the years, knew how special the brothers were to one another and so desperately hoped to make his approval.

You shouldn’t have worried. As soon as Joshua stepped foot in the building, he’d strode directly over to you, pulling you into a deep, brief kiss, before taking you by the hand over to Clive and Jill.

Though a little surprised, Clive had been nothing but kind, considerate and welcoming in the time you’d spent with him after their return from Kanver and bout with Odin – the reason as to why Joshua was confined to his bed. 

“Darling, come here.” Joshua demands, softly. “Please.”

“You, my love, are meant to be sleeping.” You chide, eyes not leaving the page.

“Resting.” He corrects. “Which I would do far better at if you were by my side. Nay, in my arms, actually.”

You look over your shoulder to roll your eyes – he’s propped himself up against the pillows, his black shirt unlaced, hair a little mussed and looking so beautiful. You realize as soon as you meet his soft blue eyes that engaging with him had been a mistake. You can never resist that face. He could tell you to walk straight into the mouth of a Morbol in his loving cadence and, by Founder, you’d do it.

No.

You must steel your resolve. He needs to rest. The colour’s only started to return to his complexion in the last day or so and you do not wish to hamper any semblance of recovery.

You try and regain your composure. “I do not wish to be at the wrong end of Tarja or Jote’s wrath when-”

“My sweet one, I beg you.”

Mothers, you can’t resist that – even if you’d downed many a tonic. You pick up your book and get to your feet, before toeing off your boots, and make the short walk over to the bed to climb in besides him. He instantly takes your free hand, pressing his lips softly against the back of it.

“Thank you.”

“Mm-hm.” You hold your tongue, not wishing to encourage him further, though you know when it comes to Joshua and his affections he needs no influence to shower you in loving words and sweet gestures. You go to return to your book, assuming he’ll rest now as you read besides him. That, however, turns out not to be his intention as he plucks the tome out of your hand with nimble fingers and places it down alongside him, just out of reach.

“Joshua…”

“It has been so long since we could just enjoy each other’s company, although I know that was at my behest. And now we are here… Well, I admire and respect Jote greatly, but to be truly alone in your company has become all too rare an occurrence.”

The Phoenix’s attendant was nothing but loyal, but sometimes her presence grew a little… suffocating, through no fault of her own. She was tasked with Joshua’s protection – his healer, his blade, his warden – and you were nowhere near skilled as her in those areas of expertise. You greatly admire her for her patience with him too – it was certainly hard to rein Joshua in at times.

“No, you are right. It has been a while.”

It felt like you’d been trekking across the continent non-stop the past while, poking around Fallen ruins, researching where you could, before he’d, reluctantly, sent you to Tabor to reside under Cyril’s watchful eye as set out to infiltrate Prince Dion’s camp to seek his aid. Your reunion in Tabor had been all too brief – he’d then sent you to the Hideaway alongside Jote to offer assistance there whilst his new party set forth to Kanver.

And Odin.

You don’t like to dwell on that – that Barnabas had split the sea with a swipe of his sword.

How easily could he have split Joshua in two?

“We should savour these moments.” He says, softly.

He draws shapes on your palm – it’s a nervous habit, you’d noted. He used to dance flames between his fingertips before he discovered this settled him just as well.

“You are thinking too much.”

“Impossible.”

Often, you would catch him standing or sitting in place, an arm across his chest, his other arm balanced upon it whilst he cups his chin, deep in contemplation. Sometimes so deep in thought, you’d resorted to peppering his face in kisses to get him to return to you.

You’re too used to this particular look, the responsibilities of the Phoenix resting too heavily on his shoulders.

“I disagree.” You place a tentative hand on his chest, hovering over that burden encased within. “Are you in pain?”

“No.” You stare at him for a moment, gauging whether it was a white lie across his tongue. His eyes seem sincere as he meets yours – he could never truly lie to you.

You scoot forward and swivel, carefully placing yourself across his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely and in returns he brings you in closer.

After all this time, his cheeks still flush a little to have you pressed against him.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You need to rest and, to do so, you must take a respite from thinking of Ultima.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you press your forehead against his before he can utter a word, and you move a hand to caress his cheek.

“And rather than exhaust yourself further chasing answers you cannot currently seek, mayhaps for now you can think of my touch and of how much I love you.” You whisper, tenderly.  

“Sweet one, that thought has never once strayed from my mind - this is all because I love you. I want you to have the world.”

“I already do. You are it.” You tilt his chin up, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his lips. There’s a phantom taste of iron – too many times had you kissed your Phoenix’s bloody mouth in relief. “So, please, rest.”

He buries his head into your neck then, pressing a kiss or two to your throat, making your heartbeat quicken. “Can we stay like this?”

“Of course, love. Just close your eyes, mm?”

He nods, nuzzling in softly, the tip of his nose tickling your skin. You smile, closing your eyes, being close to him, being held like this is always so relaxing, your worries evaporating. It isn’t long before your breathing synchronizes and the two of you are slowly lulled to sleep, feeling content, safe and loved.

--

Clive doesn’t knock, forgetting himself, forgetting he’d sent you to sit with Joshua earlier too, and opens the door in a hurry. He has a vial of freshly brewed medicine from Tarja to deliver, but the scene before him stops him before he can voice his intentions.

Joshua is asleep, for one. He hadn’t even stirred at the sound of door opening. The Phoenix is propped up against the pillows and you are still wrapped in his arms, one hand spread flat over his heart. Joshua’s head is against the crook of your neck whilst yours lays upon his, both deep in slumber. The two of you look so peaceful.

“It’s rude to stare.” Jill jokes softly, wrapping an arm around Clive’s waist. He smiles down at her lovingly before he presses a kiss to the side of her head. How sweet it was that he and his brother had been blessed with you and Jill.

“Yes. I forgot they’d be together – I was tasked with delivering Joshua’s medicine, but…” He trails off, it goes without saying he does not wish to disturb such a tranquil scene.

“It can wait.” Jill smiles at the two of you. “Joshua has all the medicine he needs.”

--

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