#*grits teeth and mentally punches a wall*

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Having a mental breakdown at work while smiling and teaching 😄

[cherrylovelycherry]

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Contracts and preferences pt.1 pt.2

pairing. Aventurine x gn!reader x Dr ratio (poly) cw/genre. angst, argument, some slow burn again, slight being left out, some nsfw in pt.2, negligent attitudes synopsis. you went from being “decoration” and “ partner” to “ servant” and “assistant”. full menu

The more you gave, the more they seemed to demand, leaving you feeling like you were slowly sacrificing your own identity in the process.

Each passing day brought a new chore, a new task to complete.

You longed for a moment of understanding or appreciation, but it felt like your efforts were going unnoticed.

But you always pushed these thoughts and feelings down, telling yourself that it was just part of the job, part of being their assistant.

You were already managing to hold it mentally, even feeling a little calmer.

But it all went to hell. 

You were currently in bed, trying to rest after a busy day. 

Both Aventurine and Ratio were there, on the other side of the bed. 

Your body was turned, looking at the wall, you've always liked that place. 

About an hour, it was only a damn hour before you started hearing faint sound of kissing and movement in bed. 

Your body stiffened as you heard the sound of their make-out session in the bed, right beside you.

You tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was normal.

But the sound of their movements and sighs of pleasure filled the room, making it impossible to escape the intimate atmosphere.

You clenched your fists, feeling a mix of discomfort and frustration.

Every kiss, every touch they shared felt like an invasion of your already limited space.

You desperately wanted to shout at them to stop, to show some respect for your feelings and the boundaries of the relationship.

But you lay there, frozen in place, your body tense and your nerves on edge.

The sound of their voices filled the room, intertwined with whispers and panting.

"Ah, wait, not that...not yet," Aven muttered.

You felt a flash of frustration, but you held your tongue.

Each moan and gasp seemed like a knife twisting in your heart.

You tried to block out the sound of their pleasure, but it was like a damn torment. 

"Are you sure they're asleep?" you heard Aventurine ask, keeping his voice low. 

"Yeah, just be quiet," Ratio responded, his voice hushed.

Your heart sank at his words, realizing that they thought you were sound asleep, oblivious to their intimate moments.

How many times had they done this before, assuming you were asleep?

The realization hit you like a punch in the gut.

Their voices became more hurried, their movements more urgent.

You hated this.

Their breaths, their moans filled the room, mingling with the rustling of sheets and the creaking of the bed.

You clenched your jaws, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

Each sound seemed to mock your presence, disregarding your feelings and boundaries. 

Damn, it'd be a long night. 

…

It was a long night. 

You barely managed to get the dream together. 

You stayed all night in the same position you were in, so you felt your body sore and numb. 

When you tried to move, you felt something was attached to your back. 

Aventurine was curled up against your back, sleeping peacefully. 

You were trapped in his embrace, unable to move without waking him up.

You felt a mixture of irritation, struggling to untangle yourself from his grip.

But Aventurine seemed to cling to you, his arms wrapped possessively around you even in his sleep.

You gritted your teeth, frustration and frustration growing.

Ratio lay on his back, still sound asleep.

You didn't even notice that they had settled like that.

  Aventurine's embrace was warm and tight, but it felt suffocating.

You tried to carefully wriggle free, but his grip only tightened, pulling you closer against his chest.

You cursed silently, feeling trapped.

Each futile attempt to move only made him snuggle tighter against you, his breath tickling your skin.

Their sleepy murmurs and sighs only added to your frustration.

  Aventurine murmured something unintelligible, his head nuzzling against your shoulder as he slept.

You tried to contain your frustration and desperation.

You didn't want to make a scene, but the longer you stayed stuck like this, the more your irritation grew.

The feeling of being trapped, both physically and emotionally, was unbearable. 

Finally you couldn't take it anymore and with one hand you shook his shoulder a little. 

Aventurine muttered in his sleep, stirring slightly at your touch.

He let out a groggy mumble, his grip loosening slightly. 

"Hm... what..?" he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

Ratio stirred too, waking up due to the disturbance. 

He blinked clearly, rubbing his eyes.

You took the opportunity to break free from Aventurine's embrace.

With a slight push, you managed to move away from him, freeing yourself from his grip.

Ratio groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking sleepy.

"What's going on?" He asked, His voice still groggy. 

"Nothing, nothing," you said, once you had finally freed yourself from his arms. 

"You can go back to sleep," you added, as you moved down the bed, getting up. 

Ratio raised an eyebrow, noting the tension in your movements.

"Are you alright?" He asked, genuinely confused.

Aventurine mumbled incoherently, his arm still outstretched as if trying to find you in his sleep. 

"Better than ever," you said, with some sarcasm in your tone. 

Then you left the room, to go to the bathroom and then start doing your things. 

Ratio watched you go, a mixture of concern and confusion etched on his face.

He glanced at Aventurine, still asleep and mumbling in his sleep.

"What the hell was that...?" Ratio muttered, running a hand through his hair.

For your part, you were still in a bad mood, because of the bad night and everything that was starting to come together.  

You left the bathroom, somewhat refreshed, starting to go to the kitchen, to prepare the damn breakfast, as always. 

You entered the kitchen, feeling a pang of frustration as you began preparing breakfast.

The motions felt mechanical, your mind preoccupied with the events of the night before.

You couldn't shake the feeling of being ignored and underappreciated.

Every task felt like another responsibility piled on your shoulders, another item on a never-ending checklist.

As you went about making breakfast, the kitchen slowly began to fill with the aroma of food.

The sounds of frying and sizzling filled the air, a familiar routine you had grown accustomed to. 

After some time, Ratio entered the kitchen, still a bit sleepy.

He approached you, leaning against the counter as you continued to work.

"What's on the menu today?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

You replied without looking at him, focusing on preparing the food.

"Toast, scrambled eggs, and sausage."

Ratio hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze following your every move.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it soon after, noting your distant behavior. 

Ratio stayed for a moment, observing you in the kitchen, noting the slight detachment in your demeanor.

The silence between you was palpable, as you continued preparing breakfast without meeting his gaze.

Ratio shifted his weight, leaning against the counter.

"You seem quiet today," he finally said, breaking the stillness. 

"As always, love," you said, as you continued to move the sarten a little. 

Ratio's eyes narrowed slightly at your response.

"Is everything alright...?" He inquired, his voice laced with concern.

You shrugged nonchalantly, continuing your tasks without lifting your gaze.

"I'm just focused on the breakfast," you replied, dodging the question.

Ratio let out a thoughtful hum, studying your demeanor.

"Are you sure? You seem... tense now."

He tried to catch your eyes, wanting to gauge your mood. 

"Nah, you think too much," you said, turning the eggs. 

Ratio sighed, realizing that you were not going to give in easily.

He leaned his head slightly, his eyes fixed on your back as you continued cooking.

"Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me, right?"

He tried to sound reassuring, hoping to draw an honest response from you.

Meanwhile, Aventurine appeared in the kitchen, still a bit disoriented. 

"Morning," he chimed in, approaching Ratio.

Ratio glanced at him, his expression conveying a silent message.

Aventurine, still half-asleep and disheveled, shuffled closer to Ratio.

He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes, unaware of the tension in the air.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Ratio looked between Aventurine and you, noting the contrast in your demeanors.

He turned his attention back to Aventurine, trying to divert his attention.

"They're making eggs and toast," he responded, keeping his voice neutral. 

Aventurine hummed in approval, the scent of breakfast rousing him further.

He took a seat at the table, still a bit groggy.

"Sounds delicious," he commented, his stomach grumbling.

However, Ratio's eyes lingered on you, his concern growing.

He observed you as you moved around the kitchen, noting the subtle signs of frustration in your movements.

Ratio cast a glance your way, noticing the way you seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking at Aventurine.

He furrowed his brow, mentally noting the subtle cues of discomfort.

He needed to tread carefully here. 

"Sweetheart, can you make me a coffee?" Aven asked, from the table, lying down a little on this. 

You paused your tasks, turning your gaze towards Aventurine, who was leaning on the table.

His request was a routine one, yet today it felt like another demand added to your already overflowing to-do list.

You let out a soft sigh.

"Sure, love," you responded, forcing a neutral tone.

You tried to keep a neutral expression, though the irritation was bubbling just beneath the surface.

Ratio watched the interaction with a keen eye, sensing the subtle tension in your response.

He observed as you moved to prepare Aventurine's coffee.

The silence in the kitchen was punctuated only by the sounds of brewing coffee and the sizzle of eggs frying.

Ratio continued to study you, noticing the small telltales of your frustration, the slight clenching of your jaw.

Aventurine, blissfully unaware, hummed in appreciation as he waited for his coffee. 

He approached you, with calm steps, before taking your waist and attaching his body to your back. 

You froze for a moment as Ratio's body suddenly came into contact with your back.

His hands on your waist were a usual gesture, but today felt like an invasion of your personal space.

You tried to conceal your discomfort.

His breath tickled the back of your neck, but instead of comfort, it only heightened your discomfort.

"Uhm... could you?" You said, as you moved your arms a little. Waiting for him to catch the hint. 

Ratio seemed to misunderstand your meaning, thinking you were gesturing for something else.

He leaned in a bit more, his presence enveloping you from behind.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice soft and intimate.

Frustration welled up within you as his grip tightened, his body pressed closer against your back.

You let out a forced laugh, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

"I need to finish cooking," you explained, your voice slightly strained. "Can you... give me some space, please?"

Ratio seemed a bit surprised by your request, but he immediately released his grip, stepping back to give you some space.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression showing a hint of concern.

"Sure, of course," he said, his voice laced with understanding. 

You let out a sigh, something relieved. 

"Can you take this to Aven?" you said as you pointed your hand at the fresh cup of coffee. 

Ratio nodded, picking up the cup of freshly brewed coffee.

He approached Aventurine, who was still sitting at the table, and placed the cup in front of him.

"Here you go," Ratio said, his tone soft, while kissing him on the head. 

Aventurine let out a slight laugh at his actions. 

"Thanks," he said, recording the cup and taking a sip. 

Ratio smiled back at Aventurine, watching him save the coffee.

Meanwhile, you attempted to return to cooking, trying to suppress the turmoil of emotions welling up inside you.

However, Ratio's eyes remained fixed on you, his observant gaze taking in your every movement. 

Once you finished preparing breakfast, you walked to the table, holding their plates for them to eat. 

You left them and also left yours in your place. 

Ratio and Aventurine began to eat, the sound of their forks clinking against the porcelain creating a gentle rhythm.

However, Ratio couldn't shake off the unease he felt as he observed your behavior. 

He could see the subtle signs of tension in your body language, the small gestures that hinted at your inner turmoil.

Ratio tried to engage in light conversation, hoping to ease the tension.

"The food is delicious, as always," he commented, his gaze flickering towards you.

Aventurine nodded in agreement, devouring his food with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, it's really good. You always make the best breakfast," he said, with his mouth still somewhat full. 

"I'm glad you like it," you said, and before you started eating, you got up from the table, to head towards the bedroom. 

They watched as you got up and started to leave the table.

His eyebrows furrowed, knowing that something was off by your abrupt departure.

"Sweetheart, you're not going to eat?" Aventurine asked, his voice tinged with concern and confusion.

You paused in your steps, turning slightly to look at them.

"Huh, yeah," you replied, your voice soft. "I'm just going to change the sheets in bed," 

"'cause I don't think you two changed it," you muttered between your teeth, before continuing on your way to the bedroom. 

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged glances, realizing the hidden meaning behind your words.

"Right..." Aventurine murmured, a slight hint of embarrassment in his tone.

Meanwhile, Ratio pursed his lips. 

Now, more relieved to change the dirty sheets, you left them in the washing machine. 

And again you headed towards the dining room, sitting in your place. 

When you arrived, you hadn't realized that your plate was now in your hands and suddenly you were now sitting on Ratio's lap. 

Ratio, taking advantage of your moment of surprise, had gently pulled you onto his lap without you noticing.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself sitting on his thighs, the unexpected move leaving you momentarily flustered.

Aventurine chuckled, amused by the sight of you on Ratio's lap.

Ratio wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you snugly against his chest. 

"Okay, sweetie," Aven said as he turned a little in his seat.

"Open your mouth," he added, as he approached your fork with food toward your mouth. 

You felt a mixture of surprise and slight resistance as Aventurine tried to feed you.

Ratio's arms held you firmly on his lap, preventing you from moving away.

"I can feed myself," you protested, trying to push away Aventurine's hand with the fork.

Aventurine smiled mischievously as he brought the fork closer to your lips.

Ratio let out a soft chuckle, holding you tighter against him, enjoying the playful interaction.

"Come on, sweetheart, don't be so difficult," Ratio said.

"Let Vasha feed you."

Aventurine nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

"That's right. Let us pamper you a bit," he added, bringing the fork closer to your lips again. 

You moved something inconsulate, as you pulled your face away from the fork. 

"No, I can do it alone," you said again, with some tension in your voice. 

You were trying to control yourself so that frustration and irritation wouldn't consume you. 

Ratio tightened his grip around your waist, keeping you firmly seated on his lap.

He leaned in closer, his voice now a soft murmur in your ear.

"Sweetheart, relax," he said, his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

"Just let us take care of you."

Meanwhile, Aventurine continued to attempt to feed you, enjoying the little game he had initiated.

He brought the fork gently to your lips once again, his eyes fixed on your stubborn expression. 

"C'mon, just one little bite," he coaxed.

Your irritation grows more and more, your patience slowly reaching its limit.

Ratio's firm grip on your waist and Aventurine's persistence to feed you were driving you to the edge.

You gritted your teeth, trying to control the feeling of frustration that was coursing through you.

"I don't need to be pampered," you snapped, your voice strained.

You tried once again to push Aventurine's hand with the fork away, but Ratio's hold kept you firmly on his lap.

Ratio's grip remained steadfast, his arms firm around your waist.

Aventurine let out a soft chuckle, enjoying the challenge of trying to feed you.

"Oh, but we want to pamper you," Ratio said, his voice low and persuasive.

"Just one small bite, sweetheart," Aventurine echoed, attempting to force the fork into your mouth.

You were trapped between the two of them, their insistence to pamper you clashing with your growing frustration.

You couldn't hold back anymore. 

The feeling of being controlled and restricted was overwhelming. 

You snapped, your frustration finally exploding.

"No!" You exclaimed, pushing Aventurine's hand away forcefully, causing the fork to fall to the floor.

"I don't want to be pampered! I just want to be left alone and do things myself!"

Ratio and Aventurine froze, their playful expressions changing to surprise at your outburst.

Ratio's arms loosened around your waist as he was startled by your outburst. 

He exchanged a glance with Aventurine, both of them taken aback by the force behind your words.

"Sweetheart, we..." Ratio began to say, his voice soft, but you interrupted him before he could continue.

You pushed away from Ratio's lap, standing up abruptly.

"I don't need your pampering. I can manage myself just fine," you said, your voice still tinged with anger.

Aventurine stood still, watching you get up, his eyebrows frowning a little in an hurt way.

Ratio wasn't going to keep quiet, first you push Aven's hand hard and now you behave like that?

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked as he got up from his chair. 

You spun quickly, meeting Ratio's gaze, your frustration and irritation still visible.

"What is wrong with me? What's wrong with you two?" you retorted, your voice rising.

Ratio stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing.

"We just want to take care of you," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Can't we even do that?"

"Oh," you let go, almost lowering your tone, sarcastically. "of course, of course, now you both want to take care of me," 

"How funny, really," you added, letting out a slight laugh without grace. 

Ratio was getting exasperated by your attitude, his patience wearing thin.

"What the hell does that mean?" He demanded, his voice raising in volume. "We've always taken care of you, so why are you acting like this now?"

Aventurine, who previously was watching the argument, finally spoke up.

"He's right, sweetheart," he intervened, "we're just trying to be nice, why are you getting mad?" his voice soft but still carrying a hint of offense. 

"Oh, aeons," you let go, smiling a little as you ran your hand across your face. 

At this point you didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

"Although you two had great jobs, apparently never learned the meaning of a few words," you snapped. 

You meant the word 'always', by Ratio's words, since according to him, they always took care of you. 

Ratio's irritation only grew in response to your sarcasm.

"Oh, please, enlighten us then," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "What words do we need to learn?"

Aventurine, now with more upset in his facial expressions, frowned.

"Yeah, I'd like to know too," he echoed Ratio's sentiment, "since apparently we've been doing a terrible job of taking care of you."

You let out a frustrated sign, your emotions boiling over.

"Do you really want to know what words?" You asked, your voice rising.

"Alright. Let's start with always. Apparently, you define 'always' as 'sometimes'," you exclaimed, your voice filled with bitterness.

"Ha! Or even like 'almost never'." 

They exchange surprised glances, taken aback by your response.

Ratio crossed his arms, his irritation still palpable.

"What? We take care of you all the time," he retorted, his voice defensive.

Aventurine nodded in agreement, adding to Ratio's defense.

"Yeah, we do everything for you. We look after you, we're kind to you, and make sure you're comfortable. How is that not 'always'?"

You let go of another laugh, as a mockery. 

"Oh guys, you are for each other" you said. 

"Seriously, you two are completely oblivious."

Before they could answer, you kept talking. 

"Oh, but let's see," you said, as you put a hand on your lips, as if you were thinking. 

"Because you two are so kind and considerate to me, surely thought it would be a good idea to fuck next to me, while I was 'sleeping,'" you said as you made quotation marks with your fingers. 

"Oh right," you said before clearing your throat, ready to mimic their voices. 

"'Are you sure they're asleep?','Yeah, just be quiet'."

They both froze, their eyes widened in surprise at your revelation.

Ratio's expression turned from annoyance to a mix of surprise and sheepishness.

"Oh come on, it's not like we were intentionally—"

Aventurine interrupted Ratio, trying to defend themselves. 

"You... you weren't asleep?," he said, his voice hesitant.

You raised an eyebrow at their words, not letting their words diminish your anger.

"Surprise, surprise! No, I wasn't sleeping," you retorted, "It's hard to sleep when the bed is shaking violently and there's moans all night long."

Aventurine's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, realizing the implications of your words.

Ratio's annoyance returned, trying to defend their actions.

"Well, we didn't realize you were awake," he said, "We just thought you were a heavy sleeper or something." 

"Bullshit," you released. 

"Oh, Aven, how is your back?" You asked, pretending to be concerned. 

Aventurine's embarrassment only deepened.

"Uh, it's... fine," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

Ratio, however, was not about to back down.

"What's the big deal anyway?" he said, his irritation seeping into his voice. "We're in a relationship, it's normal for us to be intimate."

You let out an exasperated sign, your frustration growing even more.

"The 'big deal' is that it's disrespectful and inconsiderate," you said, your voice growing louder.

"You two made all that noise and didn't even bother to check if I was asleep or not."

Ratio rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, come on now," he said, "you're blowing this out of proportion. We just forgot to check. It's not a big deal." 

"Yes, it's a big deal, because I'm also your partner!" you snapped, with a heavy annoyance in your tone. 

Ratio seemed unfazed by your assertion.

"Yes," he responded, his tone not matching your annoyance. "You are our partner, but we have our own relationship too."

This only fueled your irritation even more. 

"So what? You think I'm just an accessory to your relationship?" you snapped.

Aventurine, sensing the tension, tried to intervene.

"Sweetheart, that's not what he means," he tried to mediate.

"Shut up," you let go, as it was starting to irritate you to want to appease the situation, as if it wasn't anything important. 

Aventurine's attempt to intervene was abruptly shut down by your sharp words.

Ratio, feeling provoked by your reaction, shot back.

"Hey, don't talk to him like that," he snapped, his irritation reaching its peak.

You, on the other hand, were not backing down.

"Why not? I'm tired of you two treating me as if my feelings don't matter," you said, your voice rising once again.

Ratio's defensive attitude was not waning.

"Your feelings do matter," he retorted, "but you're overreacting. It's just a small example."

You were becoming more and more frustated by Ratio's dismissal of your feelings. 

"Example?" you asked. 

"You want more examples?, of course," you let go, getting a little closer to both. 

"Maybe that 'decoration' and 'partner' stuff isn't the best term for me." 

Ratio's annoyance turned into confusion, as he exchanged a glance with Aventurine. 

"You know what should be the term that describes me?" You asked rhetorically before answering yourself. 

"Assistant who is more of a servant," 

Ratio and Aventurine fell silent, shocked by your words.

Ratio seemed taken aback, his expression turning dark.

"Assistant? Servant? What are you saying?" He asked, his voice low.

Aventurine, on the other hand, seemed saddened by your words.

"Is that really how you see yourself?" He asked, his voice soft.

"And you still ask, Kakavasha?" You snapped, as you looked at him, after asking that stupid question.

"Now all I hear are petitions, petitions and more petitions." You kept talking, not waiting for them to respond. "Even some become orders," 

Ratio was becoming angry at your comparison.

"That's not true," he argued, "we don't treat you like a servant."

Aventurine was already getting tense again, bothered by the tone you were talking about and how to say things that, to him, made no sense. 

"We just ask for your help with small things sometimes," he said, his voice steady.

But you continued to express your frustration.

"It's not just 'small things,'" you said, "It feels like that's all I'm there for, to do whatever you ask, whenever you want." 

You saw that Ratio was going to speak again, you supposed to dismiss your words, so you didn't let him answer, speaking first. 

"Put this in the washing machine, did you change the bath towels?, Pass me this, pass me that, You have the agenda tomorrow and in the past?, Wash the clothes, Clean the house, Wash the dishes, Order our belongings, Make me a coffee, Is breakfast ready?" You said suddenly, several examples of what they were asking for. "And the list goes on," 

Seeing their faces, you mocked, "A little more and I'm ordered to make an appointment for you two." 

Aventurine was starting to get defensive, but he was still trying to control himself.

"We just ask for your help because we need it," he said, his voice rising. "We're busy with other things."

You, on the other hand, weren't accepting their excuses.

"You two are always too busy," you said, your own voice rising. "What about me? I'm busy too, I have things to do, you know?"

Ratio, who had been quiet for a few moments, suddenly interjected.

"Are you really that busy?" He asked sarcastically. "You're just at home, doing nothing all day."

That stung hard.

You felt a stab of resentment at his words, as if he had dismissed all the hard work you did day in and day out to keep their life together.

"Doing nothing all day?" You echoed, your voice filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. "You really think that?"

Ratio held his gaze, his eyes cold as he spoke.

"Well, what else do you do?" I've inquired.

"Ha, right," You let out a bitter laugh, "I don't do anything and you're both so busy, so I have to be always on call to wait on you." 

Ratio's expression hardened, not appreciating your sarcasm.

"We're not asking you to be on call," he said, his voice growing louder. "We just expect you to help out around the house and with other matters. It's a partnership."

"You live here too, so you should pull your weight," Aventurine added, echoing Ratio's words.

You felt your frustration boiling over.

"Pull my weight?" You repeated, your voice rising. "I already do-" 

"How much you complain about, if that's what you signed the contracts for, that's what you're our assistant for." Ratio interrupted you, coldly in his tone. 

 Your irritation shot up even outside, fueled by Ratio's words.

"And there it is," you snapped, "the real reason you two want me here, right? I'm just your little helper, your assistant, here to do the dirty work while you two play." 

This time, Ratio didn't deny anything. "Yes, because that's who you are." 

You felt a pang of pain at his confirmation. It was as if he had just confirmed all your fears, that you were nothing more than a convenient presence in their lives.

Aventurine chimed in, his voice trying to defend Ratio.

"It's not just about that," he said, hesitantly. "We value your company, and we enjoy spending time with you-"

You cut him off.

"As long as I'm useful, right?" You said, your voice tinged with bitterness.

The realization that your relationship with them had been reduced to a transactional, one-sided partnership hit you hard.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you pushed on, refusing to back down. 

"Is that really all I am to you?" You asked, your voice shaking slightly. "Just a convenience?"

Ratio's Demeanor remained cold, unfazed by your emotional display.

"You knew the terms when you signed the contracts," he stated matter-of-factly.

Aventurine, a little quieter up to that point, chimed in.

"We told you what the arrangement would be from the start," he said, his tone less harsh than Ratio's. "But that doesn't mean we don't have a relationship." 

"Right, a 'relationship,'" you repeated, with a touch of sarcasm. "Is that what you call this? Because from where I'm standing, it feels more like you two just want a live-in maid." 

Ratio's expression darkened even more, clearly not appreciating your tone. 

"We're not forcing you to stay here, you know," he said. "If you're so unhappy, you can always leave."

His words were like another knife in your heart.

You weren't sure how to respond. The thought of leaving them had never crossed your mind. Despite everything, you loved them. But the way they had just treated you, like you were nothing more than a convenience, had hurt deeply.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Veritas?" You retorted, your voice quivering slightly. 

But as much as you tried, you couldn't stop the tears you were trying not to shed from falling. 

Ratio shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say that's what he really thought. Aventurine, on the other hand, remained silent, unable to defend you. 

It was so unfair. 

You looked at Ratio with displeasure, no matter that your vision is blurred by tears 

You stopped looking at him, to look at Aventurine, waiting for him to say something, to take your side in this. 

But seeing that he wasn't going to say anything, you were instantly agitated. 

"I met you first," you said, almost in a plea. 

He looked down to one side. 

"Vasha...?" You asked, something fearful about his action. 

"...I met him first." He said, in a low tone.

Your heart sank further. It was as if Ratio's words had just confirmed everything you had feared. It was clear that they valued each other more than they valued you. 

Oh, you felt so stupid. 

You started sobbing, with that, humbling yourself more in front of both of you. 

You didn't want to do that, but after suppressing your feelings for a long time, it made it difficult for you to control yourself a little. 

Both Ratio and Aventurine seemed uncomfortable at the sight of your crying. Ratio looked away, clearly not interested in dealing with your emotional outburst. Aventurine, on the other hand, looked conflicted, torn between comforting you or respecting Ratio's attitude.

He took a step closer to you, but Ratio stopped him with a gesture.

"Don't coddle them," Ratio commanded, his voice still firm. Aventurine hesitated, looking conflicted, but ultimately stayed put.

"You're being cruel." Aventurine mumbled, looking at Ratio with a certain disapproval for his way of acting.

Ratio shot a sharp glance at Aventurine.

"They're just being overly emotional," Ratio said, dismissing Aventurine's concern.

Meanwhile, their words and lack of compassion only deepened your sobbing. You felt completely alone in this. 

Maybe you were from the start. 

Even standing there in front of them you tried to cover your face, with your hands you tried to clumsily wipe your tears, to stop humiliating yourself. 

Ratio's coldness contrasted sharply with Aventurine's visible concern.

"Oh, stop," Ratio said, rolling his eyes.

Aventurine protested again.

"They're obviously hurt," he said, his eyes flickering to you, "We can't just ignore that."

Ratio shrugged indifferently.

"They'll be fine," he said. "They're just being dramatic."

Aventurine looked at Ratio with a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

"You're unbelievable," he mumbled.

Meanwhile, Ratio looked almost annoyed. 

"Now, come on, it's been late," he said, starting to walk into the bedroom, to change and get out. 

Aventurine watched Ratio leave the space and then turned his gaze to you.

You kept wiping away your tears as best as you could, still trying to compose yourself, but the hurt and frustration were deep-seated.

When he approached you, you took a step back, feeling vulnerable and a bit defensive after the previous argument. 

His voice was softer than Ratio's had been.

"Here, let me…" Aventurine said, gently reaching out to help you wipe your tears.

You didn't refuse, but it wasn't like you accepted or made the slightest attempt to stick to him.

Aventurine tried to be gentle as he dabbed away your tears.

But you were still feeling raw and hurt, and it was difficult for you to feel comforted. You kept looking down, avoiding his gaze. 

You didn't feel special or anything, at that moment you could just continue sobbing and letting the tears soak your face. 

Ratio, impatient and already on his way to the bedroom, called out to him. "Vasha, come on."

Aventurine shot a concerned glance at you before looking back at Ratio.

"What about them?" he asked, gesturing towards you.

Ratio didn't even look back.

"They'll be fine," Ratio repeated, as he opened the bedroom door. "They just need a moment to calm down."

Aventurine let out a sigh, torn between staying with you or complying with Ratio's demand. He seemed torn, as if he didn't want to leave you in that state, but also didn't want to ignore Ratio's call.

He looked at you again, his eyes reflecting his conflict. Finally, he spoke in a hushed tone, as if he didn't want Ratio to hear.

"We'll talk later, alright?" he said, trying to give a small reassurances.

Then, without waiting for your response, Aventurine reluctantly followed Ratio into the bedroom.

The door closed behind Aventurine, leaving you alone in the hallway.

The silence echoed in your ears, the only sound being your shallow breathing as you tried to contain your sobs.

You felt so alone and unimportant. It seemed as if your emotions didn't matter to Ratio, and even Aventurine's attempts at comfort seemed half-hearted.

The apartment was now quiet, and you were left with your thoughts. The realization of Ratio's harsh words, his casual dismissal of you, and Aventurine's inability to defend you or at least stand up for you, weighed heavily on your heart.

You remained standing in the hallway, the sobs still making your chest ache with each deep breath. 

You managed to go and lock yourself in the spare room next to the master bedroom, seeking solace in that bed. 

After locking the door, you climbed into the bed and curled up in a ball under the covers.

The tears continued to fall, your body trembling from the force of your sobs. The room was dark, and the silence around you seemed to amplify your pain.

The conversation with them played over and over again in your mind, their words like poison in your heart. 

They just see you as their little helper, someone who serves their needs.

You clutched a pillow tightly, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle your sobs. The pain of their indifference was almost physical, like a weight pressing heavily on your chest.

It was as if the bed enveloped you in a cold, embraced the loneliness you felt in your core.

But just being there and allowing yourself to cry felt good, you didn't hold back. 

You don't know how long you were there, sobbing and sobbing, but at some point, tiredness made you practically faint, falling sound asleep. 

Even at night, when they had both already returned home, you were still in that room, sleeping.

As they entered the apartment, they noticed that the table was still with the dirty dishes and your breakfast plate that you did not even arrive to eat. 

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a knowing look as they noticed the untouched breakfast.

Ratio spoke first.

"They didn't eat anything all day, huh?" He said, a hint of indifference in his voice.

Aventurine nodded, a mix of guilt and shame on his face.

"I guess not," he mumbled.

Ratio let out a sigh, as he squeezed the bridge of his nose a little. 

Ratio walked a little further through the apartment, his expression hard to read.

Aventurine followed him, his footsteps echoing behind Ratio's.

"Maybe we should have checked on them," Aventurine said, his voice tinged with guilt.

Ratio remained silent, while frowning somewhat hesitantly. 

Aventurine spoke again, his voice was low.

"Do you think they're still upset?" he asked Ratio.

Ratio let out a sigh again.

"Of course they're upset," he replied, "We literally said hurtful things to their face, Vasha."

Aventurine looked even more guilty as Ratio stated the obvious.

"But I thought you said they were just overreacting?" He said, almost defensively. 

Ratio looked to the side, somewhat annoyed by Aventurine's comment. "And I think they are," he said, "But that doesn't mean we didn't hurt them." 

There was a moment of silence between the two, before Ratio spoke again. This time, his voice softer than before.

"We may have to find a way to apologize," he said, sighing again. 

Aventurine nodded in agreement, seemingly glad that Ratio had considered some kind of reconciliation.

Ratio continued to look at the dirty dishes, the ones they had left there before going out and the breakfast that you had prepared but not touched. That made him feel a new pang, a pang of guilt, but he refused to dwell on that now. 

Aventurine spoke again, breaking the silence. 

"We should talk to them, right?"

Ratio considered for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, we can talk to them."

Aventurine seemed to take a silent sigh of relief, glad that Ratio agreed to the option.

"When?" he prompted.

Ratio looked at the bedroom door, clearly aware that you were in there.

"Now," Ratio answered, his voice firm.

Aventurine stared at Ratio, slightly surprised by the response. 

"Now? But they might be asleep..." he muttered, hesitantly.

Ratio's expression didn't change, as he was resolute.

"It's still early," he replied, "And they are probably awake."

Ratio started walking towards the bedroom door, Aventurine following close behind.

As they approached the door Ratio paused, listening for a moment to see if he could hear any sounds from inside.

Meanwhile, Aventurine stood by, his heart racing a little. 

In the finals, he ended up knocking on the door, not too loud. 

There was no response after five minutes. 

Aventurine shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe they really are asleep," he said hesitantly. 

Ratio sighed, a slight trace of worry crossing his expression.

"Maybe...we should check on them," he suggested, his voice tinged with a subtle concern.

Aventurine nodded, agreeing with Ratio's suggestion.

"Yeah,"

Ratio took a breath, then reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, opening the door a crack to peek inside.

Ratio slowly opened the door and looked inside. 

The bedroom was dark, the only light coming from the lamp in the hallway. However, it was enough to see you lying on the bed, your face buried in the pillows. 

A soft, regular sound betrayed the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Ratio pushed the door open a little further, his eyes still fixed on your sleeping form.

Aventurine peered over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of you.

"Are they...?" Aventurine whispered, looking at Ratio.

Ratio answered, still observing you. "Yes, they are asleep."

Aventurine let out a sigh, relieved to know that you were indeed asleep.

"That's good, right...?" he said, half expecting Ratio to agree with him.

Ratio, still looking at you, however, didn't answer immediately.

He simply stood there, watching you sleep silently, a strange expression on his face.

Ratio's sudden silence confused Aventurine. He looked at Ratio's face, trying to understand his expression. 

"Veritas?" Aventurine murmured, his voice a little higher than a whisper.

Ratio turned his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on you.

"Hm?" he responded, almost as if he had forgotten that Aventurine was there.

Aventurine looked at Ratio and then at you again, starting to realize that Ratio was strangely contemplative.

"Are you...ok?" Aventurine asked, a note of hesitation in his voice.

Ratio seemed to come out of his trance, snapping his eyes back to Aventurine.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said, though there was a slight hesitation in his words. 

Ratio slowly closed the door, then turned to Aven. 

Who grabbed his face, somewhat worried. 

"Tomorrow we will talk to them and everything will be fine," he said, rubbing his cheeks gently. 

"Yes, tomorrow," he repeated, more as if assuring himself than Aventurine.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting Aventurine's hands remain on his face for a while.

It was somewhat comforting, but Ratio's mind was still occupied with the previous argument.

...

The morning sun slowly shone through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom.

Ratio and Aventurine, both already awake, were still lying in bed. However, neither of them had gotten up yet. 

Ratio had his eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling while Aventurine sat against the headboard, looking thoughtful. 

There was an unusual tension between them, the events of the previous day hanging heavily in the air.

Aventurine broke the silence first.

"Veritas," he said, looking at Ratio.

Ratio turned to look at him, wordlessly waiting for him to speak. 

Aventurine continued, his voice low but firm. "We need to talk to them, like we said we would," he said.

Ratio sighed slightly, already knowing what was coming. 

He knew they had agreed to speak to you, but the thought of it made him uncomfortable. 

"I know," he murmured, turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

Aventurine noticed Ratio's uneasiness and looked at him with slight irritation. 

"Why do you look so reluctant?" he asked, a note of annoyance in his voice. 

Ratio didn't answer immediately, he looked away to one side, avoiding Aventurine's gaze.

Aventurine pressed him again. 

"Veritas."

Ratio finally turned to him, his expression somewhat resigned. 

"I feel like I went too far," he said.

Aventurine's expression softened a little, hearing Ratio's confession.

"I think we both went too far," he said, gently.

"Yeah," he confessed, his voice softer than usual. "What I said yesterday was...harsh."

"You feel...bad?"

Ratio nodded slightly, sighing afterwards.

"I feel ashamed," he admitted, still avoiding eye contact. 

Aventurine moved a little closer to him, a hint of empathy in his eyes.

He reached out and placed a hand on Ratio's shoulder, a gesture of comfort. 

"I feel the same," he said quietly. "I should have said something, tried to stop you..."

Ratio finally looked at him, the corner of his mouth tugging slightly in something resembling a weak smile. 

"I wouldn't have listened to you anyway," he said, not trying to hide the truth.

Aventurine couldn't help but chuckle a little despite the serious atmosphere within the room. 

"Probably not," he agreed. 

There was a moment of silence, before Aventurine spoke again, changing the topic. 

"Do you think they will forgive us...?"

Ratio closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about the question.

The events of the day before played again in his mind, each harsh word, and your tearful expression.

"I don't know," he responded truthfully, his voice low. "I hope so, but..." 

He was going to say something else, but he shake his head, pushing away negative thoughts.

"No, they're going to forgive us." He said, in a way of convincing himself. 

"They will," Aventurine said, in an attempt to give some comfort, although his face said that he had doubts.

Ratio nodded slightly, yet the look in his eyes betrayed the uncertainty he still felt.

Then, another silence fell across the room, only the sound of a clock ticking could be heard.

After a long moment, Aventurine spoke again, breaking the quiet.

"We should get up...and go talk to them," he said, glancing at the bedroom door.

"Yes, we should..." Ratio agreed, though neither of them made any effort to actually get up from the bed.

They both lay there for a few more moments, as if they had both suddenly lost the courage to do what they had promised. 

Aventurine was the first to stir, sitting up. 

"Come on," he said, reaching out a hand towards Ratio, silently prompting him to get up as well.

Ratio looked at Aventurine's outstretched hand for a moment before finally grasping it and pulling himself up.

He swung his legs off the bed and got to his feet, feeling somewhat reluctant but knowing that the conversation was unavoidable. 

No one said anything as they left the room to go to the dining room. 

As they entered the dining room, their eyes immediately fell on the breakfast table. 

Or, more precisely, on its lack of dirty dishes. 

The plate they had left after breakfast was gone. The table was completely clean and polished as usual.

Their eyes fixed on the spotless surface for a moment, then they heard noise in the kitchen. 

They both turned in the direction of the kitchen at the noise.

As they stepped into the kitchen, they were met by the sight of you standing by the counter.

Currently, you were busy placing clean dishes in a cabinet.

You even had food put in a pan, which was being frightened, while you arranged some clean dishes and glasses that you had just finished washing and drying.  

They stood at the entrance for a moment, both a little unsure of what to say or how to behave. 

You seemed to be too focused on your tasks to notice their presence at first. 

Aventurine and Ratio exchanged a quick glance, both aware that this was the moment they had to talk to you. 

Then, Ratio took a step forward and cleared his throat slightly to get your attention.

Your head snapped over to look at him, surprise and a slight hint of cold indifference appearing on your face as you made eye contact with Ratio.

Seeing your expression made Ratio hesitate for a moment, his throat feeling dry. He swallowed, trying to find the right words to say.

Aventurine, standing next to him, shot him a look that clearly said, say something.

There was a palpable tension in the air, the events of the day before still hanging heavy between you all.

You broke the silence first, your voice quiet but steady.

"Good morning." 

Seeing that no one was speaking, you were not going to be rude, especially to your bosses.

Ratio took a moment to respond, feeling a bit taken aback by your flat greeting.

"Good morning," he returned, his voice somewhat awkward.

Ratio opened his mouth slightly, to try to say something again, but words got stuck in his throat. 

He wanted to apologize right away, but he couldn't find the right words. 

Aventurine noticed his struggle and decided to act first.

He stepped forward until he was standing next to Ratio, then sighed slightly before speaking. 

"Can we...talk to you?" he said, his voice softer than usual.

You finished placing the last glass in the cabinet and closed the door before turning to face them fully. 

"We're already talking," you said, something obvious. 

Ratio pursed his lips at your response, a bit irritated by your coldness. But he knew it was their own fault, he tried to stay calm.

"But yeah, we can talk when I'm done preparing breakfast."  You spoke before they said anything. 

"Also, I also have to talk to both about some things," you added, calmly, as you turned back to the stove, to make sure that the food does not burn. 

They watched you turn your back to them to tend to the food, a lump forming in each of their throats.

They both hadn't expected such a sharp and indifferent response from you, but they knew they deserved it.

Ratio looked at Aventurine, who seemed just as uncomfortable and regretful. 

Neither of them spoke, waiting for you to continue.

The only sounds in the room were the quiet sounds of the food cooking and the sizzling.

After a few moments, you spoke again, still with your back to them.

"You can sit down," you said, gesturing slightly towards the table behind them.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a look, then both sat down at the table, silently.

They waited, the silence seemed to stretch on indefinitely. 

"Love, you want me to, huh, help you?" Aventurine tried to break the uncomfortable silence. 

You shook your head without turning around, silently rejecting Aventurine's offer.

"No, thank you. I'm handling it."

They remained silent again, watching you work. 

Ratio leaned back in his seat, his hands clasped together under his chin, as he watched you in silence.

Aventurine, for his part, was tapping his fingers nervously on the tabletop, his gaze flitting back and forth between you and Ratio. 

The atmosphere was uncomfortable, with none of them knowing how to begin the conversation.

You continued your tasks in the kitchen, acting as if they weren't there.

Finally, you turned off the stove and turned around to face them again.

You had plates in your hands, which you put in front of them. The smell of the food was good.

"Here's the food," you said, still in a cold tone. 

Then you turned around again, bringing your own plate, as you sat in front of them. 

Ratio and Aventurine looked at the food on their plates. 

It all looked very good, just like you always prepared. 

But, they didn't feel like eating, the knot in their stomachs preventing them from doing so. 

You started to eat, silently. Ratio and Aventurine didn't move. 

Another silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. 

Aventurine glanced at Ratio, silently communicating to say something, before it got even more tense.

Ratio took a moment to look back at Aventurine.

He knew Aventurine was right. They had to start the conversation.

He turned his gaze to you, who continued to eat, without looking up. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but still, the words didn't flow.  

Finally, after taking a deep breath, he managed to start speaking. 

"We… we want to apologize," Ratio began, his voice strained, "for what we said yesterday."

You didn't respond to Ratio's apology right away, continuing to eat.

However, they could see that you had stopped for a moment, listening to him.

"We said some things that...we didn't mean," Ratio continued, his expression remorseful. "And we didn't act right, towards you," he added quietly, casting his eyes downward.

You finished chewing and swallowing what you had in your mouth before you spoke. 

"Okay, now I want to hear you," you said, looking at Aventurine. 

By the time you had listened to Ratio, so now it was time for you to hear him. 

Aventurine swallowed hard, feeling like a child who had just been scolded. 

He swallowed, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten even more.

"I also want to apologize," he said, his voice slightly unsteady. "I shouldn't have said what I said yesterday," he admitted, regretting the words he had spoken.

Then, he added, his face more distressed. "I also shouldn't have been silent, when Veritas-" He stopped short, realizing he almost referred to Ratio as such.

A small, almost bitter smile pulled at the corner of your mouth. But you said nothing about it.

Ratio, at that, felt a sudden pang in his chest. 

But, he kept quiet, his lips pursed.

He had noticed, throughout the previous day and this morning, how you responded differently to each of them. 

You seemed to forgive or react better to Aventurine, than to him.  Which he couldn't blame you for, but it hurt more than he would like to admit.

You sat quietly for a few moments, letting them speak. 

You knew they were trying. You could tell, they were at the very least, sincere in their apologies. 

You took another bite, slowly chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. 

"I accepted your apologies, both of you," you confirmed. 

Ratio felt some relief at your words, even if your cold tone still hurt. But he still remained silent. 

Aventurine, on the other hand, also felt that small load leave his shoulders and he smiled slightly, glad you forgave him. 

He looked at Ratio, encouraging him to continue the conversation.

Ratio couldn't help but notice your cold tone, even after accepting their apologies, and it only made him feel worse. 

He wanted to say something about it, but held back, knowing it wasn't the right time.

Instead, he continued, speaking again, his voice still somewhat strained.

"We really regret what we said," he said again, his eyes fixing on yours. "We want...we want us to go back to how we were before," he said, swallowing hard.

You took a pause to study both of them.

You could see that Ratio was uncomfortable and, although Aventurine was trying to look better, you could tell he was uncomfortable, too. 

You couldn't deny that the relationship between you had deteriorated, and you wanted to change that, too.

"I don't think we can go back to how we were before..." you said, your eyes looking away to one side, as you continued to speak. "But we can...start again," you suggested, your head turning back towards them.

Ratio felt a pang of hope at your words.

Start again.

Maybe you had more hope for them than you wanted to show.

He relaxed his shoulders slightly, feeling some of the tension being released.

"You...you're giving us a second chance?" Aventurine asked, his tone a mixture of disbelief and optimism.

You nodded slightly at Aventurine's question.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Yes, I'm willing to give you both a second chance," you said, your tone less cold than before.

"Have you two finished speaking?" You asked, in a calm voice. 

At that, Ratio shook his head a little, all of the above had been his imagination. 

"Uhm, yes," Aventurine said, quietly, responding for him and Ratio. 

You let out a small sigh and looked at both, your expression still cold.

"Like I said before, I accept your apologies, but they don't erase what you two said, or what happened."

They both knew that, but it still hurt to hear it.

"We understand," Ratio said quietly, still looking down, as he fiddled with his fingers nervously.

You took another bite, slowly chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. 

"Good," you responded, your tone not so cold, but still guarded.

"So, don't take my forgiveness as a sign that everything is fine between us," you clarified. 

They nodded slightly, understanding the warning in your words. 

"We won't," Aven said, his voice hoarse again, the knot in his stomach twisting even more.

Silence fell again, a heavy one. 

You continued to eat silently, while Ratio and Aventurine remained sitting, staring at their plates, their untouched food. 

You looked up from your food again, noticing their plates.

"You both are going to eat that or just stare at it?" You asked, an edge of sharpness in your voice again.

They both stiffened at the sharpness in your voice.

Ratio opened his mouth to answer, "We aren't-" he started to speak, but a loud rumble interrupted him.

He stopped, a look of embarrassment crossing his face as he realized the source of the sound. 

He hadn't even realized that, since he hadn't eaten breakfast, his stomach was protesting.

Aventurine stifled a laugh, looking at Ratio amused, and trying to cover his mouth with a hand.

Looking at them, it was kind of bitter to you. 

The table was silent for a while, every now and then you looked at them, finally they were eating. 

You let out a sigh, before placing your fork on the plate again. 

"I wanted to make everything clear, because that's what the worker-boss relationship I have with you is all about." Your voice came out calm, without any hint of hate. 

They both froze in their seats, looking at you as you spoke. 

Ratio could not help the feeling of his stomach twisting upon hearing those words. 

Aventurine was much more expressive, his face fell, disappointment clear in his eyes. 

He felt his chest tighten and his breathing become slightly ragged, but he didn't say anything.  He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke, "So, you...you mean we're just...boss and employee...again?"

Your eyes moved back and forth between them as they spoke, noting their reactions.

You took a moment to think, you knew your words would hurt them, but it was necessary.

"Yes," you answered, your tone firm.

"For the moment, our relationship can't be as it was before. We need to redefine the limits between us."

They swallowed hard, both of them still looking at you with slightly dejected expressions.

On the one hand, you wanted them to feel bad. The things they said were not acceptable, and it stung that they had thought you would forgive them so easily.

But at the same time, you didn't like seeing them like that, and a small part of you was screaming to just say 'no, that's not it' and hug them tightly. 

"I'm thinking about myself this time," you said, holding firm in your decisions. 

Ratio and Aventurine sat silently, silently processing your words.

Ratio's shoulders slumped, a mixture of guilt and disappointment in his eyes.

He couldn't blame you for your decision, as it was a logical one.

Aventurine, on the other hand, was visibly upset by your statement, but he tried to keep his voice level and composed.

"What does that mean? What are the limits again?" he asked, his voice tinged with barely suppressed frustration.

You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest as you looked at them.

"The limits include a more professional relationship, no intimate nicknames or comments," you listed some examples, your tone matter-of-fact.

"No touching me without my permission, even something small," you added a bit firmer, your eyes slightly hardening.

Ratio bit his lip at your words, feeling a pang in his heart at the thought of not being able to hold or hug you anymore.

However, he understood, it was his own fault for everything that was now happening.

Aventurine was visibly more frustrated by the established limits, but he tried to control himself, although his words came out a bit sharper than he wanted.

"And, how long are we going to be like this?" He asked, trying to keep his voice calm. 

You raised an eyebrow, totally unbelieving of his words. 

"I don't think you two are getting it," you said calmly. 

Ratio glanced at Aventurine, clearly not liking his tone.

Aventurine, however, chose to ignore Ratio's look and focused on you.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

Ratio, on his part, chose to remain silent, watching silently for now.

You let out a small sigh, not surprised that your words hadn't gotten through to them.

"The duration of this situation is indefinite," you said, matter-of-factly. "Maybe permanent,"

Ratio's stomach dropped upon hearing your words.

Permanent?

That can't be true, right?

He glanced at you, his expression hopeful, silently praying that you would change your mind.

Aventurine, on the other hand, could not believe what he was hearing.

"You can't be serious," he said, his voice filled with disbelief. "This can't be permanent, I-" he started to protest, his body tense. 

"It is, because I'm getting out of your relationship," 

Your tone was firm, not showing any signs of wavering.

Ratio could start to feel a slight panic rising in his chest, but he tried to keep himself calm.

"You can't do that," Aventurine protested, his frustration coming through in his voice. "You-" he tried to continue, but you interrupted him.

"No, you don't have a say in this," you said firmly, your eyes fixed on him.

Aventurine opened his mouth to speak again, but Ratio spoke first this time, his voice a little desperate.

"Please," Ratio pleaded, "There must be another way.", his voice cracking a little.

His heart was racing rapidly, his palms started to moisten with sweat.

Aventurine looked at Ratio, surprise and slight hurt at his desperation.

He was just as surprised to hear Ratio, someone who was usually rational and controlled, talk in such a panicky way.

You thought you were going to falter, to have your decision go to the trash if you ever saw it like that, but somehow, you stayed calm.

"Why are you complaining?" You started.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Veritas?" You asked. 

"”cause after all, you met him first, right, Kakavasha?" You asked again now looking at Aven, keeping calm. 

"Why are you two complaining then?" 

Ratio's breath caught in his throat upon hearing that.

It felt like a punch in the face, a painful reminder of the situation.

He bit his lip, a lump forming in his throat.

Aventurine, at that, froze in his seat, his heart dropping at your words.

He felt as if you had just stabbed him, deep.

He took a shaky breath and replied, his voice wavering, "That's not-" he began, but was unable to finish. 

You finished eating your last pieces of food before getting up from the table. 

"Finish eating, it's getting late," you said, as you went to the kitchen to leave your plate. 

Ratio swallowed hard, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.

Aventurine also struggled to keep his emotions under control, his shoulders tensing.

Neither of the two spoke again, they could only watch you disappear into the kitchen.

They couldn't believe it.

It had ended.

All of it.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[miniwheat77]

Alibi. (141 x Reader HC’s.)

You guys see those edits floating around tik tok with that Alibi song? (you know what I’m talking about.) so here’s a fic inspired by it. !nsfw, violence, mental health issues, death, blood, mentions of suicide, NO MINORS!

Can you remember when the last time was you felt safe in the dark?

All of the ways reader is valuable to 141, more than just as a soldier.

When I’m out of breath, she’s my vitals.

His heart is thudding in his chest. He can’t seem to calm down. Blood rushes from the knife wound in his side and he’s stressed. He knows he shouldn't have taken it out. He knew better and still did it. He doesn't know what he was thinking. He’s taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. He’s alone, his radio is broken and he can’t call for help. He can’t walk because he can’t stop his racing heart.

Just when he thinks he’s going to die alone, you come running. “I got you.” You breathe. Skidding to a stop, lowering yourself onto your knees in front of him. He’s sitting up against a building. You shove his shirt up, grasping his hand and forcing him to hold it over his wound. “Look at me, you’re bleeding too much because you’re too stressed.” You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re gonna be alright Gaz, look at me. Breathe with me okay?” You take in a deep breath, your imitation tactics will work on him. He stares back.

He takes in a deep breath, the feeling of your hands on him. Knowing that if he dies right now, he won’t die alone. It already calms him.

After a few deep breaths, he’s calming down. His heart has settled a bit more in his chest. You move his hand, seeing that he’s still bleeding but not nearly as bad. “Keep breathing like that Gaz, I’m gonna patch you up the best I can.” He nods his head, keeping the steady intake of oxygen. Medivac was on their way.

You look up at him. Smiling. "It's not happening today. Not like this." He laughs. Wincing slightly. "How are y-you always there ah?" He laughs. You look at him confused. "Anytime anyone is hurt you always know and you always come running." He laughs.

"I just do. You're my brothers. I'll always come running. I got you.” You breathe. “Keep breathing for me. Medivac is coming. I’ll be by your side no matter what alright?”

When I need to rev, she’s my ride or die.

Your teeth are gritted as you watch the scene unfold in front of you. The new recruit doesn't know you're there and she's been a total bitch to him since she started, but would only do it when no one else was around. When he brought it up, she called him a liar. She didn't know you were here and neither did he. "You know you're the weakest link of this entire task force? I mean really? I don't even know why they keep you around." She snorts. You let her dig her own grave but you can see him and he's fuming. Getting more and more angry as she keeps going. You're worried he might actually explode. You need the perfect moment to show yourself.

"You know I could say you hit me and they would kick you off of this base so fast because no one would believe you."

That was your last straw. You start walking into the room, your footsteps can be heard. The moment she sees you, she's got that same look on her face. The crocodile tears start. "Y/N thank god. He was just threatening me." She cries. Making her way toward you. "Is that true?" You look at him. He says nothing. Expecting you to take her side. You've always been ride or die for everyone and he doesn't know what so suddenly changed when she came around. He is clearly pissed.

"Look. Maybe we can talk this out. In private. Let's go outside and talk." You mumble. He rolls his eyes but knows he has no choice. The both of them follow you outside and the moment the door is closed, you grasp her shoulder and spin her around. Before she has time to react you’re punching her in the gut as hard as you can. His eyes widen. "Jesus!" He mumbles. You clamp a hand over her mouth before she can yell out. Backing her into the wall. "Not a word or I'll put a bullet in your fucking head and than there will only be one side to this story." You growl. He's standing off to the side. Surprised at how quickly this had escalated. "Everyone on this task force. Even him. They are my brothers and if you fuck with them, you fuck with me." You have her pinned. Right in the blind spot where cameras don't see it, which now he realizes was your plan all along.

You take another swing at her, busting her nose. Blood rushes from it. "Go to your room and clean up and if you say a fucking word I'll have your head. Understand?" You seethe. She nods her head.

She rushes away from you.

"You knew?" He asks. You snort. "Of course I knew Johnny." You laugh. Shaking the pain from your fist. "I always know."

"Thank god." He sighs. "Not just my word against hers anymore." He sighs. "Nah, we'll talk to Price and get her out of here. Let's go get a drink, calm you down." You rest your hand on his lower back, seeing the weight has clearly been lifted off his shoulders.

When I’m out of faith, she’s my idol.

It's times like this he wishes he hadn't taken on the responsibility of being a Captain in the military. He has to be someone these people look up to. But he doesn't feel worthy. He feels like he means nothing, sometimes he feels he leads them in the wrong directions. Sometimes going as far as getting them injured or killed. He doesn't know how to combat these feelings.

Some days he wants to give up. Wants to call it quits and leave this all behind. But he knows he has people relying on him. Even if he thinks they'd be better off without him. He sighs. Taking a drink of the flask he had in his hand. He's got the gun in his waistband. He shouldn't be having these thoughts. For some reason, his mind keeps travelling to you. Your smiling face despite being in the worst situations known to man. How you always seem to be so happy and keeping a good attitude. He wishes he could be that positive all of the time. He wishes he could be like you in a lot of ways but doesn't understand it.

He hears footsteps and quickly tries to hide the flask until he sees it's Gaz. "Garrick." He nods. "Cap. Something going on?"

"Ah. Same old. Wish I could change things I can't." He snorts. "Feel you there. Y/N asked if I could come find you, says she needs to ask you something." He nods his head. He wonders what you could possibly want this late. He stands up. "That girl. Swear. No matter what she's always so happy." He laughs. "Yeah you got me. I don't know how she does it all of the time." Captain Price laughs. "Wish I could be like her in a lot of ways."

"That's funny. She says the same things about you." He laughs. "Really?" He asks. He nods. "Yeah. When you're not around she tells stories. Talks about how you're basically her hero. Tells everyone all kinds of cool stuff you've done. Swears up and down that you're the best superior she's ever worked for in the military. Says she doesn't know what she'd do if something happened to you." Captain Price laughs. Shocked at hearing that you've said such kind things about him. "Such a sweet girl." He shakes his head. "Thanks Gaz. I'll see you tomorrow morning." He nods. He's going to go find you.

Right after he returns this gun to his nightstand.

I just killed a man, she’s my alibi.

Ghost sits in his house. His hands shake violently. He fucked up. He fucked up bad this time. He doesn't know how he'll talk his way out of this one. The man had gotten slick with him at the bar after what he’d done. He shouldn't have went in the first place. He should've stayed home. He doesn't know who to call, but you're the closest person to him. He's got no other choice.

You come running at the tone in his voice. He's clearly scared about something. When you arrive, you walk right into his house. "Simon?" You ask. He looks up. "What's going on?" He asks.

You had an idea of what it was. You'd seen the news this morning.

"A man was found dead in the back alley of a bar this morning, footage showed a man wearing a skull mask."

"I.. I don't know what got into me. He..." he trails off. "He corned this girl back there and I didn't know what to do. I just hit him. I couldn't stop."

You press your hand to your lips. Silencing him. "Listen to me-" A knock at the door is what startles you. "Go answer it and don't say a word about where you were until I'm down there okay?" You force him to look at you. You grasp the mask on his face and pull it off of him. He nods. Listening. He makes his way to the front door.

You look around the room, you know what you're looking for. You look across his boots and other shoes that he might've been wearing but they're all clean. Everything is all clean until you spot the gloves in his bathroom. You quickly shove them in your pockets and make your way to him. He's let the officer in. "I really was just wondering where you were last night?" He's got a little note pad in his hand and a pencil in the other. "Is something wrong?" You ask. Stepping into the room. "Oh uh.. just routine questions. Nothing serious ma'am." He smiles. "Oh.. we just got back from a black ops mission a few hours ago, did something happen?" You ask. "Uh.. well we're just investigating a death at a bar last night. Folks say they saw a man wearing a skull mask and we heard from around that you sometimes wear them." He looks at Ghost.

"Oh.. uh. I usually only wear those when I'm on missions to hide my identity. Don't want people knowing who I am and retaliating against my family." Simon explains. The officer explains. "Do you guys have a superior I can follow this up with? Just to double check?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yeah of course. I have his phone number right here." You nod. Drawing your phone out of your pocket. You relay the number and Ghost only hopes Captain Price will cover for the both of you. "You mind if I take a peek around?" He asks. "No. Course not." You answer, seeing the fear rise in Simon's eyes.

The officer disappears for a few minutes before coming back. "It doesn't look like I'll have to follow up after all. Someone made report that he had attacked a female and the person acted in defense for her. However we would like them to come forward anyways. So if you happen to hear about any of this, please give me a call." He passes a card to you and you take it. "Thanks officer." You smile. When he leaves, you lock the door behind him. Tugging the gloves out of your pocket. How fast you had acted.

How fast you were willing to cover for a murderer? What other lengths would you go to. To defend the task force?

"You owe me, Riley."

[seancekitsch]

Can I ask you a Question?: An Adrian Chase x Reader Kinktober fic

here it is! the first fic of kinktober :) all of these are gonna be shorties but smutty

warnings: sex pollen, dub con, rough sex, spitting, slightest degradation, 

Heat spreads along your skin as you stare at the wall, a single focused point in the absolutely unremarkable plain wall of the ARGUS issued motel room, and still managing to fail completely at ignoring the other more than warm body in the room. Anger bubbles as you think about how you were shoved in here kicking and screaming in protest. It's not your fault and you should be allowed to sweat this out at home. Why does Chris even have a pheromone helmet to begin with? Why does that one just activate whenever it wants to like a malfunctioning furby? You wish you could have gotten a good punch in before Emilia shoved you in here claiming a needed quarantine, even though as Adrian pointed out, there are air ducts in the room which means nothing is airtight and if you and the air around you is the issue then the whole building is fucked.

Adrian sits beside you staring at the wall the same as you, but he walked in here willingly. He didn’t have to be in here; he doused himself in solidarity with women or some absolute bullshit that you barely heard over the near immediate effects it had on your body and the intense rush of heat towards your abdomen. You wonder if he’s feeling as hot and squirmy as you at this point, he has to be, unless he wasn't actually lying about being unnaturally fast at healing. If you were alone you’d be ripping your clothes off and hoping the sheets are cool, or maybe taking an ice bath and watching the most ick-inducing hallmark movie your can find. But instead you try to wait it out… however long it lasts. 

“Hey, can I ask you…?” Adrian trails off mid sentence, god, your scowl must be nastier than you think. 

“Ask,” you grit out, teeth bared as you try not to shiver under his gaze. Fuck, he’s so hot. Fucking annoying sometimes, but fucking hot. 

“Are you horny?”

What, like he’s going to do something about it? Heat bubbles and pools between your legs in embarrassment, even though the situation is already clear. How you’d like to just snap and ride his face, knocking those cute dorky glasses askew or— fucking shit dude. This is bad. You make the mistake of shifting how you sit. 

“I was dosed with pheromones,” you snap back, doing everything in your power to hide the the moan in your voice. 

“I know, but is it working?”

You feel yourself clench around nothing, the friction of your tight jeans a blessing and a curse right now. There’s no teasing in his tone, just genuine curiosity. You love that about him, but god does that make this harder.

“Is it working on you?” you sigh, trying to stay as still as possible, trying not to set your own body aflame. 

“Oh yeah!” he confirms, “I’ve been rock hard since before they threw us in here.”

“Please don’t give me that mental image,” you snap, and he immediately apologizes profusely, the hint of a frown on the corners of his lips. Shit, you’ve probably upset him and made him think you’re grossed out. He shifts farther away from you and groans at the movement. He’s got it just as bad as you. 

“I mean— with everything going on right now, I can’t handle that. Not you,” you try to reassure him. 

 “Oh! Well that makes perfect sense. I don’t know what I’d do if you said something like, ‘I’m so wet right now’ I’d probably—“

“You know what Adrian? I’ll answer your question. Yes, I’m horny… and you’re not helping the situation.”

“Should I leave?”

You look at him with pinched brows, incredulous.

“Emilia will probably kill you if you try.”

He grumbles something about being able to handle a stupid little bullet. 

Your eyes follow up and down his body, tracing and following the dips and bulges of his muscles to where they become obscured by armor, biting your lip to suppress a moan. You know he’s a good fighter, and it probably translates well in the bedroom. Christ, what those biceps could do, those arms wrapped around you and— head out of the gutter, you tell yourself, but it’s too damn hard, and you betray yourself and your mind flashes back to imagining his arms wrapped around you while he takes you from behind. An embarrassing little whimper escapes your lips as another wave of heat floods your core. Damn it. 

He flinches at the noise, because of course he heard it, that’s just your luck. His fists clench and unclench, gloves discarded so you can see the whites of his knuckles. He’s holding back, and he’s struggling with it. 

“Hey,” he starts, voice much more shaky than before, “What if we—“

“Yes,” you agree without thinking. Whatever it is. Yes. Whatever he wants. However he wants you. 

“Wait- Really?” he asks, voice rising in shock as he gets up, and then stumbles, clearly thrown off by his own arousal. Fuck. You lean back onto the bed, humming in pleasure as you do, trying to look as appealing as possible despite the sweat on your brow and the state of your dishevelment, even though judging by the bulge in his pants you don’t need to go through these extra steps. You lay against the sheets and throw your head back, showing off your neck and hoping he’ll sink those pearly whites into the side of your neck. 

But then he confuses you by heading towards the bathroom, walking awkwardly.

You pick your head back up, panic shooting through you. Did you get the wrong idea?

“Where are you going?” your voice does nothing to hide your desperation, and maybe you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on its starting to hurt. 

He has the nerve to look at you like you have three heads, that jerk. 

“I thought you said yes? I was gonna go jerk off in the bathroom while you do whatever you do best in here?” he hovers in the doorway with odd energy (well, odder than normal) and tilts his chin at you as if its a challenge. 

“Where are you going?” your voice does nothing to hide your desperation, and maybe you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on its starting to hurt. 

He has the nerve to look at you like you have three heads, that jerk. 

“I thought you said yes? I was gonna go jerk off in the bathroom while you do whatever you do best in here?” he hovers in the doorway with odd energy (well, odder than normal) and tilts his chin at you as if its a challenge. 

“Oh!” you exclaim a little too loudly, “Oh, I didn’t know thats what I was agreeing to.”

You smile sheepishly as he walks back into the room proper. 

“What, did you think I was suggesting we should tear each others clothes off and do things to each other?” he scoffs, and even though his face is flushed he still tries to joke as if he’s functioning like normal. Well, Adrian’s version of normal. Yeah, you totally did, and you misread this. But even his condescending tone has you pressing your thighs together and fills your head with the imagery of it all. 

“Well…” you trail off, not really sure where to go from here. You’ve reached an impasse of unbearable arousal, a work colleague, and the distance of about ten feet. Talk about shitting where you eat. 

Adrian blinks twice.

“Is what I just said an option?” he asks, his voice rising half an octave, “Because if it totally is, I change my suggestion. I was just trying not to be sexist because I remember you telling me to watch how I talk sometimes about women after I rated the team on how much I’d like to motorboat them and you were on the top of the list.”

Yeah, you remember that night. You slapped the hell out of Adrian right after that.

“Maybe you should come join me on the bed,” you suggest, and he crosses the room as if zapped with a cattle prod. 

The bed dips as his knees press into the mattress, and your hand involuntarily reaches out along the sheets closer to his heat to share it. 

He flops himself down next to you, grunting as he does so, leaning in close to you, but not touching you. God, you wish he was touching you right now.

“How do you want to do this?” you ask, your lips moving of their own desperate accord.

“Well, this isn’t how I thought I’d woo you,” Adrian admits. Woo you? Was he planning on making a move? Oh, shit. The pressures on now. You don’t exactly have a crush on Adrian but you’d never turn a body like that attached to a genuinely sweet dude like that down. 

“But?” you urge him on, placing your hand closest to him on his, making your move known. 

“But fuck it,” he shrugs and pulls you in for a rough kiss; a little too much teeth and a little too much tongue but you drink it in, pulling him in closer and gripping at his uniform.

He moans loudly into your mouth, only spurring you on to grab him more, pull him flush against you to soothe the heat inside you. It works, sort of. The heat quells for a moment when you feel his hardness press against you; but it’s only replaced by another heat, an arguably worse one. It’s the need to have him inside you, to let him wreck you, destroy you. He shifts his position to trap you beneath him, rolling you onto your back. He cages you in with his arms and legs, presses his hips into yours harshly, the fire is fed, growing stronger. You want out of these jeans and to pull him into you, want to cover him and yourself in bruises by the end of this. He moves from your lips to your mouth and you gasp, gulping at air as his lips and teeth move to your cheek and your chin and your jaw; he’s sloppy and rushed and feverish in his pace, trying to experience all of you as soon as possible.

“How do you want to do this?” Adrian asks, glasses knocked askew against the side of your face.

“Need you,” you pant, already lightheaded from making out like some novice. He rocks his hips up into your absentmindedly as he continues to press kisses into your jawline, himself desperate for friction. He chuckles.

“Need you too,” Adrian sighs, and picks his head up. You almost want to whine because he isn’t kissing you anymore.

“Do you want Adrian?” he asks, and for a moment you don’t understand, “Or do you want Vigilante?”

Fuck, how do you choose? Aren’t they both just him in some capacity? You don’t exactly know what either entails, but your brain is foggy and slow, needing and yearning and making your body writhe under him instead of thinking clearly.

“I want… fuck,” you interrupt yourself, and he pulls back to kneel on his knees above you. He looks like a god under the cheap fluorescents, the god of fumbling upwards.

“Use your words,” he demands, and you can tell he’s made the choice for you. Fuck yeah. 

“I- I want it rough,” you squirm under his gaze, your hands traveling from the sheets to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them preemptively. Adrian’s eyes flicker down to your hands and then back up to your face, and he smirks. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks, newfound confidence as he moves one hand down to palm himself through his uniform pants. You nod weakly, licking your bottom lip. He tilts his head as if to shrug and uses his free hand to pull you up by your shoulder.

“Open?” he asks, as you get your arms under you to sit up. You obey immediately, opening your mouth for him and sticking your tongue out obediently. He smiles, before spitting directly into your open mouth. You swallow gladly, and the fire is stoked momentarily, as if having some of him quelled the hunger within. 

“Good girl,” he says, pushing you back down into the mattress before his hands begin roaming your body, he pushes up your shirt roughly, his warm hands splaying across bare skin, the expanse of your abdomen. His hips roll into yours again, rougher this time. When his lips capture your own, his teeth sink into your bottom lip. Your hands come up around his neck, fingers tangling themselves in his curls and pulling. He groans against your mouth, biting down. You gasp at the first copper taste of blood.

Adrian’s hands dip lower, finishing the job unzipping your jeans and hastily starting to push them down over the curve of your ass. You help him by pushing your hips up into his, giving him more wiggle room while you can rub yourself against him. He shoves the jeans down to your ankles and then stops. 

“Turnin’ you over,” he explains, and pulls your arms away from him. He removes himself from you, but only briefly. Just long enough to maneuver you onto your stomach for him and to pull your panties down to meet where your jeans confine you. 

He presses a hot hand to you, coating his fingers where you already soaked through your panties. He hums in appreciation. 

“Is this from the pheromones or from Vigilante at work?” he asks, and you groan, this time not from pleasure. 

“Ugh, shut the fuck up, Adrian,” you sigh. Of course, it’s a mix of both. The pheromones are actively probably killing you with hormones but Adrian himself is hot even if you haven’t admitted that to him. He responds with a sharp slap to your ass that makes you yelp, loud and actually embarrassing. 

“Call me Vigilante,” he tells you, and then you hear the zipper of his pants release. 

His full length enters you with no warning, but meets no resistance. You’re so slick and wet from everything, but you’ll let him stroke his ego if it means he keeps himself against you. Adrian wraps his arms around your middle, using it as leverage to slam into you harder; your body a tool to get off, but equally his body a tool to stoke the fires and make you feel real again. But fuck, if you don’t actually love this. This is the way you wish dates fucked you, the harshness and care rolled into one. Adrian’s hand wraps around you, shoved between your body and the mattress to your clit, rubbing in tight circles.  Fire ignites more, like a candle to a campfire. Adrian’s weight pushes you into the mattress, one hand pressed to the bare skin of your abdomen and the other between your legs.

“Fuck, Vigilante,” you moan, a particular movement of his middle finger making you buckle even more into the mattress below him. 

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, and presses harder. The fire stokes and spikes and calms and crescendos. Adrian’s hips don’t let up, thrusting hard and hateful, trying to break your frame with every move. Adrian will break you, and you’ll probably let him. You’ll probably let him do anything if he makes you come in the next ten seconds. 

“Are you only this slutty for me?” Adrian asks, and you nod into the pillow eagerly, whining and leaning harder into his thrusts. At this point, they hurt. It’s to the point he’s bruising your entire ass. Yeah, only for him. It’s not like your dating pool is huge here but it’s also not like you’d let anyone else on the team see you like this, but also Adrian has a certain charm to him. 

“I’m gonna- I—“ you pant, and he only speeds up the pace of his fingers and hips.

“That’s right, come for Vigilante,” he coos, and it’s like every fiber of your being releases it’s tension. 

You shout, pressing your face into the pillow as you do to avoid any embarrassing terms of endearment towards the man above you.  The shaking starts in your core, and the spreads outward. Heat spreads and explodes into almost cold in your toes afterwards. Your limbs go rigid under him. 

“That’s it, baby,” he hums, but he holds you through it, his arms holding you in place.

“Fuck!” you shout, and a particularly hard jolt of your nerves punches through you, and Adrian stills behind you. That’s all it took for Adrian to come, and he spills into you, holding you against him and moaning wantonly. 

You both breathe deeply as you try to calm down, not at all separating. You center yourself, trying to say some shit you remember from a college yoga course. You can’t see Adrian’s face, but he keeps kissing you business as usual. 

“Can we do this again?” Adrian asks, and you think for a moment. He’s a fucking psycho, maybe? but you’ve already fucked him.

“Sure,” you say, you voice still muffled by the pillow.

Why not.

[holylulusworld]

Tear you down

Summary: Dean is not amused having you around.

Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 1 – Sunday, April 14 - Heat/Rut

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, heat/rut, enemies to lovers trope, nakedness, voyeurism, mentions of switching suppressants (not Dean)

Words: 600+

SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist

He will tear you down. For messing with him. For taunting him. For triggering his rut.

Dean Winchester is on a hunt. He’s hunting a dangerous enemy. The evil hiding behind a friendly smile and boobs.

“I will kill her,” he all but growls while storming toward the dungeon. Dean and his brother found you in the middle of a fight with three alphas. You were about to rip their clothes off their bodies to forcefully mate them. “She triggered my fucking rut.”

The hunter cups his aching crotch. He’s walking around with a raging hard-on since he saw you throw punches at three strong and tall alphas.

The alpha couldn’t help but admire your graceful fighting style, even while you were out of your mind, you looked like you performed only for him.

“Dean, what are you…” Sam stops in his tracks. He can smell the rut on his brother, and backpaddles. The hunter is by all means not a coward, but his brother in a rut is more than dangerous. It’s a death sentence. Especially with an omega in heat around. “I knew it was a mistake to bring her here.”

“Stay out of my way,” Dean grits his teeth. He flexes his muscles and snarls in his brother’s direction. “I’ll get rid of that omega.”

“I can see that,” Sam follows the motion of Dean’s hand. The alpha cups his crotch and rubs himself through his pants. “I think your alpha has other plans for her. You need to go back to your room and leave Y/N alone. It’s not her fault that some douchebag she trusted switched her suppressants with vitamins.”

“What?” Dean cocks his head.

“Before she passed out,” Sam sighs, “Y/N told me about the hunter she teamed up with, and that he switched her suppressants. He wanted an obedient and needy omega around. You know, someone to knot when he feels the need.”

Dean can barely think straight with his rut clawing its way to the front, but he makes a mental note to kill the hunter if he ever meets him again. Today, he won’t be able to do so. Not with your scent driving up the walls, and the problem in his pants.

“I’ll take care of him later,” he growls the words. “Stay away from the dungeon, and her.” Dean gives his brother a warning snarl.

“DEAN!”

Sam can only watch his brother storm toward the dungeon.

He always tried to get you and Dean together. You’re a perfect match. He just doesn’t want you to mate while being in a rut and heat…

“OMEGA!” Dean pants heavily when he finally walks inside the dungeon. You refused to sleep in one of the rooms and made a makeshift bed on the ground. You’re currently rubbing your aching sex against one of his pillows, humping it for dear life. “FUCK!”

Dean’s eyes darken while watching you pleasure yourself, using one of his pillows. “Go away!” You snarl and move even faster. “I need…I want…”

He dips his head, only watching you hump the pillow. Dean smells your slick, and your sweet scent.

“Stop that!” He orders, using his alpha voice. You’re a strong-willed omega, but even you cannot fight his alpha order. Dean is your true mate, and his call is even stronger.

You stiffen and stop moving at all. Your head tilts on its own to reveal your untouched mating gland to the angry alpha.

He grits his teeth and snarls, but you can’t do anything about it.

Dean steps closer, his eyes trained on your mating gland. He hums in appreciation, but a cocky grin tugs on the corners of his lips. “If only I knew I could make you shut up using my alpha voice.”

Your eyes follow Dean’s every move. He smirks when you try to growl at him.

“What do we do about that behavior,” he purrs, and steps closer to run his fingertips over your exposed back. “I love your submissive behavior but…” Dean crouches down next to you to whisper in your ear. “I want you to unleash the beast, sweetheart. Let go…”

Tear you down (2)

Tags in reblog.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: one bed

pairing: jameson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you’re stuck with the cockiest man of all time and you need a place to stay… but things aren’t exactly idealistic

warnings: Jameson being a shameless flirt, you have to pretend you hate jameson… very difficult I KNOW

a/n: enemies to lovers?? Yes. One bed trope?? Yes. Jameson Hawthorne being outrageously hot for no good reason?? Absolutely.

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @stqrsbythepocketful @lxvebelle love you guys 🤍🤍

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” I say as the door swings open.

The room itself was okay, clean, tidy, welcoming but there was one giant problem situated in the middle. There was only one bed.

“I don’t think anyone is kidding this time, princess,” Jameson grins, looking far too happy with himself for your liking.

“Don’t call me that,” I scowl.

“Okay,” he smirks, “…princess.”

I wanted to punch that those pathetic upturned corners of his mouth to Mars but I restrained myself… for now.

“You’re on the floor,” I snap, cocking my head to where he would be sleeping. I was not about to share a bed with him, absolutely not. It was bad enough that I had to spend three days with the guy, I wasn’t about to jeopardise my sleep for him too.

“No I am not,” he yells, looking offended that I’d even suggested it,

“Be a gentleman,” I say mockingly, “sleep on the floor.”

“I’d rather die,” Jameson says flatly, his disgust evident.

“I will find a knife and make it happen,” I hiss, hoping he realises I might actually go through this threat.

His eyes brow fly to his forehead and his eyes widen, “what?”

“What?” I say quickly.

He shakes his head folds his arms and turns to me with a cocky smile, “I’m sleeping in the bed whether you like it or not.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” I reply, kicking his shin, hard.

He lets out a string of colourful words as he crumples to the floor holding his leg. Next time, I make myself a mental note that, I should aim for the groin.

“You are one piece of work,” he winced, standing up again, towering over me, “but you’re my piece of work, so it makes all of this worth it.”

“Your piece of work?” I scoff.

“Oh so you like being mine?” he quips, a grin safely situated on his eager lips.

“Possessiveness makes a man ugly,” I say flatly and bluntly, hoping he might shut his ever moving mouth for just a moment.

“So you thought I was pretty before?” Jameson asks, though it seems to be more of an assumption than a question.

“Shut your mouth,” I snap, viciousness rolling from the tip of tongue, the odd bitter taste still left in my mouth even after it’s closed.

“Can you shut it for me?” he pouts, mockingly, lolling his head to the side, “with a kiss perhaps?”

“In your wildest wet dreams Hawthorne,” I deadpan, my face robbed of all expression.

Silence. Never was there more bliss than this moment of absolute silen-

“I think you want to kiss me.”

His voice is like a never ending ringing in my ears, torturing me to the grave. Leave it to Jameson Hawthorne to ruin the mere seconds of peace I was beginning to enjoy. And his audacity made me want to run through a wall head first. Me? Want to kiss him? Well wouldn’t he be lucky.

“You have fun with that thought,” I sigh, beginning to walk away.

“No really, that’s why you’re so uptight all the time,” he says casually.

Done. I am done with this guy.

“Uptight!” I yell, “uptight! I’m uptight because I’m being forced to spend three days with the most insufferable person on this earth and now I have to share a bed you as well!”

“Breathe princess,” he replies calmly to get under my skin, “the world’s not ending.”

“No,” I laugh bitterly, “the world is not ending but I think I’d much rather face Armageddon than a night with you.”

“Oh c’mmon princess,” he shrugs, “it’s only a night, surely I’m not that bad.”

“You are, undoubtably, you are,” I grit through my teeth, “I’m asking to switch.”

“This is the only room left in this whole place,” he points out.

I knew he was right. I’d been there when the damn owner of the place had given us the last room key and had told us there would be no way to change the room if it was unsatisfactory as there were no more rooms to give. I didn’t think it’d be a problem…until now that is.

“I’d rather sleep outside,” I state.

“Then go, be my guest,” Jameson says, “I’m not the one making a fuss thought now I think I should be.”

I ignore his comment, “Aren’t you rich? Can’t you just pay them?”

“Are you asking me, a man of honourable intention, to bribe innocent people,” he gasps melodramatically, batting his eyelashes.

I think he thinks he’s being funny. I’m not laughing.

“Honourable is a bit too compliments to yourself in you ask me,” I snort.

“Well no one did, so that’s that one sorted,” he smiles, matter-of-factly.

“Oh would you just-“

If he hadn’t interrupted me there I would’ve spouted language that would’ve condemned me to an eternity of hell.

“It’s not that big of a deal anyway and I don’t know why you’re making it one,” he says, “we’re sleeping in a bed for a night… unless…”

“Unless what?” I ask curiously.

I didn’t like the sound of the smile creeping up in his voice. I didn’t like how confided he seemed or his natural relaxed demeanour.

“Unless you don’t want to because you’re afraid you’ll like it,” he says, biting his bottom lip slightly.

Like it? Like it? Just when I thought his head couldn’t get any further up his arse.

I bark out a laugh, “you’re mental.”

“I think I’m actually very smart,” says Mr.BigFatEgo.

“The last thing I’m scared of is liking you, I wouldn’t let my standards drop that low,” I tell him.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night princess, though tonight it might be me that helps you sleep better,” he winks.

I wished to slap him across the face right there and then. So hard, so loud and so painfully that he wouldn’t be able to sleep on that side for weeks, so it would sting for hours one end, so a red mark would stain to damned cheek I left it on. I fantasise even breaking a jaw but I chose to stand still and say nothing and just stare.

“What?” he teases, his voice changing as if he were talking to a small child, “Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m going for a shower,” I retort.

“Feeling saucy?” Jameson smirks.

I don’t bother to reply, too tired of his games and his stupid antics. I need a break, I need a shower and I need a second of quiet. So I turn swiftly on my heel and leave him stood there. I hope the smirk falls from his face.

***

Once the two of us had showered, we both cautiously crawled onto one side of the bed. You’d have thought there was an invisible force field keeping the two of us apart from the way we were sitting. There was no sound now. Not even background TV noise, just air thick with tension. All day I’d longed for silence and now it had finally arrived I wish more than anything for some noise.

“Are we going to sleep?” Jameson asks.

I look at him for the first time since my shower, making direct eye contact. Piercing green irises stare back at me, telling stories of many woods and forests. I’d never really looked at his eyes like this before.

“I don’t like this,” I blurt out, gesturing to the sleeping arrangement.

“Well you’re going to have to live with it aren’t you, princess?” he says, booping my nose.

“Touch my face again and I will bite you,” I threaten, my voice low and dangerous.

“Ooo feeling flirty are we? I could get down on some biting action,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows , “I look forward to it.”

“Are you proud of that one, aren’t you?” I say, my tone as blunt as my will to live at this point.

He doesn’t reply.

“That’s sad,” I hum.

“So are we sleeping or do you want to stay up all night discussing your troubles with me?” he asks turning to look at me.

“Sleeping,” I grumble, laying down with my back towards him.

“Goodnight princess,” he whispers, as he turns off the lamp.

“I hope you die in your sleep,” I murmur back.

He chuckles softly and I hear him roll over. I don’t remember anything after that.

***

When I wake up I’m immediately pissed off. It’s the morning and I still feel groggy and unrefreshed. The mattress feels a little different. I slowly open my eyes that seemed as though they’d been velcroed shut. That’s when I come to a horrible realisation.

I’m on his chest. I am laying on Jameson Hawthorne’s chest. And he has his arms around me. We are CUDDLING. I’m in the same bed, hugging a man I despise more than anyone on this planet. I want to die.

“Couldn’t keep your hands off me could you princess,” says a familiar, aggravating voice.

I scream, jumping away from him quickly. Why the hell were we positioned like that? How could that just have happened? Why did it have to happen? I curse myself for ever agreeing to sleeping in the stupid bed with that.

“Jesus woman it’s 7am, no need to bust my eardrums,” Jameson complains, caressing his ears.

In any normal circumstance is would’ve had a go at him for calling me ‘woman’ like that, but this circumstance was anything but I normal.

“What was that?” I pant, “why were you on me?”

“Actually princess, I think you’ll find it was the other way around,” he says coolly, “you were on me.”

“You did that on purpose,” I spit, my eyes pinned to him, glaring furiously.

“I most certainly did not,” he replies, his voice louder, more dominant, defensive. He looks slightly offended I would even suggest such a thing.

“Yes you did,” I tell him.

But he doesn’t care what I’m saying, his eyes are fixated on my head, “your hair is a little messed up princess,”

I groan, angry and embarrassed and all that’s in between. I comb a hand through the mass of knots, trying to tame them and failing.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he grins, cocking his head to one side.

“Piss off,” I growl, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Hey!” he exclaims, “we were cuddling a second ago.”

“No we weren’t, that never happened,” I say quickly.

“I’m pretty sure it did,” he grins.

“Jameson Hawthorne I swear to everything on this earth if you do not shut your mouth you will be sorry,” I murmur, threat etched in every decibel of my tone.

And he shut it. He actually shut it… for about two seconds

He leans back and the corners of his mouth turn upward, he’s suspiciously amused, “I’ll make you a wager.”

“I don’t want your wager,” I snap.

“Then I won’t shut up,” he shrugs.

“What’s the wager?” I respond almost immediately. Now he knows this is going to get to me he’ll use it against me. And I can’t have that. He can’t have the power.

“Kiss me and I won’t utter a word of what happened in this room to anyone,” he whispers, “not you, not my brothers, no one… our little secret?”

“I sincerely hope you’re joking,” I force a laugh.

“Just one little kiss and it all goes away,” Jameson murmurs, his voice alluring.

“No,” I shake my head. I will not agree, I will not fall down the slippery slope, I will not allow myself to be in this position.

“Okay fine,” he shrugs, smirking, “I suppose everyone shall know about your night spent with the infamous Jameson Hawthorne. Hey, it might make national news-“

I cut him off, pushing my lips onto his. Hard. I close my eyes. He kisses back, intensely, hungrily, passionately. And I can’t seem to stop either. All this anger, all this hate, all this built up fury is finally being let go. I want him to taste my hatred for him, I want him to feel my loathing, to ache when he gets a touch of my aggravation. He doesn’t to hold back and neither do I. His hands are snaking around my waist and mine are buried deep in his hair. I know I need to take a breath but my brain has somehow stopped functioning and all it wants is his lips pressed against my own. I can feel his hands making their way up my back, his touch more tentative than I’d ever imagined. Mine travel down to his next, where I cling to him, my nails digging into the delicate skin. Does he feel the pain? Does he care? If he does he doesn’t show it. His hands are now in my hair, tugging and ripping at every strand. But I don’t care. Because I know that this is his hate for me that I’m feeling and it’s giving me this buzz. This buzz of electrical passion and I don’t know why. He’s so rough with me and yet so gentle. The movement is so powerful and yet when we collide he treats my being like it’s a glass ballerina. Like I might break into a million shards and shatter onto the ground. And suddenly I’m pushing him away, my hands act on their own instinct. We both stand there, the only sound is our panting breaths, as we lock eyes.

“I upheld my end of the bargain, now you uphold yours,” I breathe heavily, my chest heaving up and down.

“You have my word,” Jameson whispers, smiling as he brings a soft and gentle finger to your lips.

a/n: I actually had the most fun writing this and I’m a actually quite proud of it… so hope you guys enjoyed as well. As always, requests are open and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list :) thanks for reading 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[vodika-vibes]

May I request the „I want you“ „then come and get me“ for delta squad’s Boss? Maybe while he’s doing some late night sparring with the reader? And perhaps smutty?🫣

💖💖

Training Session

Summary: You've had a bad day, and decide to work out your frustrations on a punching bag, Boss, however, has different plans.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x F!Reader

Word Count: 2164

Warnings: Smut. Smut with plot.

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: So, Wookieepedia says that Boss is "Taciturn", which I took to mean quiet and intense. I really want to write a letter to the Star Wars people and ask for a detailed personality profiles of all the clones. Just. "Dear sir or madam, please write a complete personality profile for all 2 million clones. Yes. All of them. Thanks." Anyway! This isn't so much sparring, because I wasn't sure how to write that, but I hope this is okay?

Divider by Saradika

Your fist slams into the bag over and over again. You’re long past the point of trying to improve your form, right now you’re just trying to exhaust yourself to the point where you can sleep without nightmares.

A tall order, you’re sure, but anything is better than laying in bed and watching the men you serve with die over and over again in your dreams. Your nightmare flashes to the front of your mind again, and you grit your teeth as you slam your bare fist into the bag even harder than before.

If you cared, you would have grabbed a glove from the box against the wall…or even grabbed some tape to protect your knuckles. But you don’t care. Can’t bring yourself to care.

At this point you’re probably going to break your fist…and you can’t help but wonder if that will help you feel a little better.

You go to slam your fist into the bag again, only for a strong arm to shoot past your head to tightly grip your wrist, holding you still. “You’re going to break your hand.”

Boss’ voice is low and stern, and while normally you would apologize for being in his way, and existing in his space, because the gym is his space, tonight you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You try to tug your wrist free, and fail spectacularly, “Do you always manhandle people, sir?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“I do when they’re acting recklessly.” He counters.

You hiss under your breath, and use your long, almost forgotten, self-defense lessons to try and twist out of his grip. 

All you manage, though, is turning your body so you’re face to chest with Boss. You glower up at him, and he arches an unimpressed brow, “Nice try.”

“Well, not everyone can have superior fighting abilities.” You snap as you uselessly try to try your wrist from his grip.

“You’re a Doctor, you don’t need superior fighting abilities,” He mocks your words with an inflection that you’ve never heard from him before.

“I should still know how to defend myself,” You snap, without thinking about it.

“Can you?” Boss asks.

“Can I what?”

“Defend yourself.”

Your face burns with anger and embarrassment, and you turn your head away from him, “I do just fine.” You retort, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

His gaze is even, and you bristle under his gaze. Stupid judgemental genetically perfect man. With his stupid perfect hair, and his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect voice-

“Punch my hand.” Boss’ comment interrupts your mental triade, and you blink up at him, genuinely startled, not even noticing that he released your wrist.

“What?”

“Punch my hand.” He repeats, his gaze serious.

“I am not punching you!” You blurt, eyes wide.

His eyes narrow, “What are you going to do if clankers get by me or my brothers and make it to your medical tent?”

“I’ll…die. Probably.” You retort honestly.

He scowls, “Unacceptable. Punch my hand.”

“Why?!”

“I want to see your form. Just do it.”

“I…you…that’s…” You throw your hands up, “Ugh! You’re such a…a guy sometimes!” You snap, “Fine! Fine. I’ll punch your hand.”

You do as you said you would, though it’s not anywhere close to being a proper punch. And Boss recognizes that. He closes his hand around your fist, “Try again. And do it properly this time. You can’t hurt me.”

“You know, when you say stuff like that it makes me want to hurt you,” You grouse.

“Good. Maybe you’ll take this seriously.”

“Oh, come on! Why do you even care?”

“You’re a medic. My medic. And you’re my responsibility. But I won’t always be there to protect you. So you have to learn to defend yourself.” Boss replies, his voice short and matter of fact.

“Okay, so, first of all. I’m not your medic-”

“Yes,” He interrupts, “You are.” Boss’ gaze is intense, and your words die on your tongue, “Try again.”

This time, when you slam your fist into the palm of his hand, it’s a proper punch, though it’s a little clumsy. In your defense, you’ve not taken a self defense class since you were a child.

“Better. Again,”

You sigh and punch his fist again, and again, and again.

And then, when you’re about to punch his fist again, “Why are you awake, anyway?”

You stumble in surprise, your fist glancing off the palm of his hand and hitting his chest, “I…sorry.”

“You’re fine.” Boss says quietly.

You hesitate, and shrug, “It’s dumb.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept going over everything that happened today and what I did wrong, and…” You shrug, “Sometimes I think you all would be better off with a better doctor.” You punch his fist again.

“You saved half of my brothers today.” Boss points out, closing his hand around your fist to make you look at him. “They’d be dead if you weren’t here.”

“Or maybe more of them would be unhurt with a different doctor.” You point out.

“No. I don’t agree.” Boss says, opening his hand as you pull your fist back, “You know, I chose you, right?”

“Chose me?” You ask.

“Of all of the natborn medics in the GAR, I picked you.” Boss confirms, “Because of your skillset, because you refused to be cowed when one of my brothers yelled at you, because you were polite in spite of us being clones.”

“You’re still men.” You say with a sigh, “Everyone else is just dumb.”

His lips quirk up until a small, amused, smile. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe, definitely.” You shift your weight onto your heels, “I didn’t know that you picked me.”

“I did. And I keep picking you. Everytime we get the option for another doctor.”

“I just don’t get why.”

He folds his hands behind his back, “It’s easy.” You’re pretty sure he stands at attention when he’s trying to mask his emotions, and it works really well, “I want you.”

“Like…in what way?” You ask as your stomach flips nervously.

“In every way that matters. Romantically. Sexually. Platonically. All of them.” Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. “But I’ll go at your pace.” He continues, “And if you’re not interested at all, then that’s fine too.”

“You want me.” Your voice is low, thoughtfully.

“Yes.” He doesn’t even sound remotely embarrassed about it.

“Okay then,” You reply slowly, “Okay.” You flash a small, impish, smile, “Then come and get me.”

His hands fall to his sides, and he smiles, something slow and predatory, and you feel arousal shoot down to your very core. 

He advances on you, and you lightly hook your fingers around the collar of his shirt and you walk backwards until your back hits the wall. Boss cages you between his arms and his lips crash against yours, his kiss both hot and demanding. 

You moan into the kiss, and your hands slide down his chest to slip under the top of his blacks. His muscles jump under your touch, and you know, immediately, that you want more.

So you tug on the hem of his shirt, and pull away from his kiss just enough to speak, “Off.” You order, or plead. You’re not sure.

Boss groans, low and deep, in the back of his throat, “Yes, ma’am.” He replies, his voice a low rumble that you feel all the way down to your bones. He pulls away long enough to grab the collar of his shirt, and he pulls it off in one smooth motion.

Your hands are immediately on his chest, smoothing over hard planes, and lightly tracing the raised skin of the scars dotting his body. He melts into your touch, and his lips find purchase against your jaw, your throat, your neck, your shoulder-

Boss’ hands burn a trail down your sides, up your back, and then back down over your plush rear. And then, to your surprise, he sinks to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you as he slowly slides your leggings down your legs.

You set your hands on his shoulders for balance as you step out of the clingy material, and you shiver as he kisses your hip and then lazily trails his tongue down your outer thigh. And you can feel yourself getting more and more wet with every passing second. 

“Boss…” his name falls from your lips in a soft moan, more of a sigh than actual words. 

You feel him smile against your leg, and then he lifts one of your legs and sets it on his shoulder, and he turns his head to press a soothing kiss against your inner thigh. And then he turns his gaze to the junction of your thighs, and he releases a deep sigh of pleasure.

His hand slides up the back of your leg and you jolt when you feel his finger pressed against you through your underwear. “You’re so wet,” Boss murmurs as he leans in and presses a light, lingering kiss over the wet spot on your underwear, “Is all this for me?” 

You card your fingers through his hair, “Wasn’t that the point?” You ask, slightly breathlessly.

Boss’ gaze meets yours, a slightly amused smile lifting his lips, and then he turns his head slightly and kisses your inner thigh again. “Tell me, cyare.” He murmurs against your skin, as his gaze drifts back to your core, “Are you overly fond of these?” He asks as he gestures to the underwear shielding you from his gaze.

“Not especially,” You reply immediately.

“Good.” He grips the material in one hand, and before you realize what he’s planning, he’s managed to tear it off of your body.

Boss drops the shredded cloth to the side, and he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your thigh, before he moves and drags his tongue along your wet slit.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you moan, and he groans in return. “You taste amazing,” Boss breathes out as he pulls away for a moment to press a light kiss against your hip, and then he dives right back in, his lips finding the little bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars.

He slides a single finger to your opening, and you release a louder moan. His fingers are so much longer and thicker than your own, and so, when he curls his finger and gives a particularly hard suck on your clit, your legs nearly buckle. 

Boss chuckles and he pulls away for a moment to look up at you, “Sensitive, cyare?”

“It’s been awhile.” You admit, your voice slightly breathless. And when he eases a second finger to join the first one, your hips jerk towards him. 

He smirks at you, lazily fucking you with his fingers, “You’re so tight, cyare.” Boss says, his voice low, “I have to prep you for my cock.”

You shiver and moan softly.

He twists his hand slightly and flicks his thumb over your clit, pulling a louder moan from you, and then he carefully, very carefully, eases in a third finger to join the first two, and you clench down on his fingers.

He curls his fingers as he fucks you, and his thumb lazily circles your clit in time with his thrusts, and it’s almost too much. You can feel the coil in your abdomen tightening, and you know you just need a little more. “B-Boss, please.” You plead breathlessly.

“Shh. I have you, cyare.” He kisses your hip again, “Going to make you feel amazing,” Boss promises, “And then I’m going to ruin other men for you.” His fingers start moving even faster.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he grins sharply.

“Cum for me, mesh’la.” He orders, his voice soft but unyielding.

“I-”

“Now.”

And you’re helpless to do anything but obey as he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument. The coil snaps, and you fall apart on his fingers, with the sound of his voice, low and soothing, murmuring praises up to you.

When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting on your knees, and you’re still trembling slightly. Warm hands smooth down your back and sides, and you blink hazily at Boss, “Are you back with me now?” He asks, quietly.

You nod once.

“Use your words, cyare.” His voice is still so gentle, “Are you okay?”

“M’okay.” You mumble. 

“Good.” his fingers ghost against your jaw, and then he sets your leggings in your lap, “Put these back on.”

You stare at the pants, and then at him bewildered, “But…you didn’t-?”

He laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry, cyare. I’m not anywhere close to being done with you.” He murmurs, “But I’m not fucking you in here. So get dressed.”

You grin up at him, delight running through you once again. “Yes sir.”

[daydream-believin]

That Was Hot But Maybe Don't Make A Habit Of Doing That Babe

warnings: well. assault. transphobia. some of my more. uh. salacious work. never proof read.

word count like barely over 1k.

---

“Aren’t you afraid? Out here insinuating that God made a mistake.”

You clutched your red solo cup a little closer to you, trying your best to ignore this acquaintance who thought she had a right to corner you in this living room and tell you what she thought about your sinful lifestyle. Because that’s what you come to house parties for, to give other guests unsolicited advice on their mortal soul. You took a deep breath, schooling your expression as Jessica prattled on.

“Your body is a temple, you know. You can’t just do whatever you want with it. It’s sacred.”

You stared at her thick eyeliner, wondering if she used a stencil or something to get the wing that smooth. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a “messy bun” and a quick glance at her feet proved she was wearing white converse. So, a woman who’s bitter about having never been sold to one direction for gambling money, it looks like. You’d never seen her outside of a professional setting, so this was a curious insight on her personality, if the glaring red flag of this entire conversation wasn’t that already.

“Is that so,” you said in the bored-est tone you could muster.

“It’s a shame, really. You could’ve been a good wife and had a family like God intended, but no man will ever want you until you quit it with this. Such a waste.”

Ah, and there’s the reminder that she doesn’t see you as anything more than your uterus. Jessica swept her eyes over your form, so tight to the wall you were up against that you might have to unstick yourself from the wallpaper after this. You watched her as the look of disgust graced her features. The other people at the party may as well have been shadows, just you and the she-wolf here in this moment.

“And you’re not fooling anyone, hon,” she snorted, “Honestly, anyone can see you’re just a woman who really let herself go.”

“Excuse me?” you said through gritted teeth.

She grinned like a shark, “I said I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve only gotten fatter and uglier since this whole thing started. You poor girl, letting your mental illness ruin you like this. Maybe if we had gotten you into a good makeup artist--”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the fist collided with her cheekbone. Your eyebrows hit your hairline as you instinctually tried to back further into the wall.

Ah. Looks like your boyfriend finally got here.

“Holy shit man! Did you just punch out that chick?”

Doux stared at his still-raised fist, in disbelief himself that he just did that. “Uh…” he trailed, “I’m a feminist?”

You glanced over to her. Jessica was too caught up in gripping her newfound nosebleed to pay any attention to you.

“OKAY,” you grabbed his shirt collar, “We need to go have a serious conversation, right now,”

You headed off up the stairs of the house, pulling Douxie along as you heard Jessica whine,

“Perfect, I got blood on me. This blouse is ruined.”

Well, at least she was madder about her dry cleaning than the getting punched part.

“Did anyone see who the hell did that?”

..Okay maybe not.

“I don’t know, Jess, it happened so fast, sorry. Let’s get you another drink, yeah?” You heard the host tell her. Fortunately, no one at this party was keen on the idea of having the cops called, so you could count on them to diffuse this situation for you.

You quickly found the upstairs bathroom, right where you remembered it. Luckily wide open and vacant. You shoved Doux inside, locking the door behind you. He awkwardly perched on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his now sore knuckles, as you turned around to glare at him. His gangly legs kind of reminded you of a spider as he stamped his feet in annoyance.

“What. The fuck. Was that.” you stalked towards him.

“I’m not about to defend my need to defend you.” His tone was fast and angry, telling you was still riding out the adrenaline high from instigating a fight. He stood to meet your level. Or slightly tower over it, as it were.

You grabbed his collar again. Douxie stared you down as you leaned into his space, and he pushed himself into yours until your noses were brushing, pupils blown wild.

“I’d say it’s my responsibility, even.”

You aggressively kissed him, clacking your teeth together, but neither of you seemed to care. Your hands pinned his face into yours, and he grabbed your hips, pulling your body closer into his.

Your lips dragged together in a dance. It was amazing how easily he could make your head spin. Douxie moaned into you, and you, not for the first time, wished you could get a recording of that sound to play over and over again. You smiled into the kiss.

His hands roamed up to your ribs, fingers digging into the flesh of your chest beneath him. You gently bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, suckling an apology as he made a noise that could only be described as a hot little whimper.

You started walking him backwards, until he hit the wall behind him. You pushed a leg in between his, and an arm up on the wall beside his head, trapping him against you. Well, not trapping. He was bigger than you and could overpower you anytime he wanted to. That just made it sexier in your opinion.

He pulled back slightly, just to run his tongue over your lips, making you gasp and provide an opportunity for him to push in past your teeth. Doux moaned as he ran his tongue over yours, driving you crazy. God, you loved how vocal he was. And you loved tasting his breath like this.

Douxie continued exploring your mouth like he hadn’t memorized the pattern of your teeth by now and you let him have this bit of dominance over you, considering you were currently boxing him into the wall. He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and your brain shut off. Nothing was happening except this feeling. He was the only person in the world and--

A loud bang bang bang from someone knocking on the door reminded you where you were. And there were in fact more people here.

You pulled apart, gasping for breath. His face was adorably flushed.

“Just for the record, I wasn’t reprimanding you," you told him breathlessly.

“I can see that now.”

You snickered as he started fixing his hair in the mirror in an attempt to look less disheveled. It wasn’t going to matter when you both walked out together, but sure.

“I know the party just started but we might need to leave already.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. we ‘might’.” You smiled up at him, as you took his hand, “C’mon let’s get out of here before Jessica sees me again.”

[ok-pop-1]

a piñata for your troubles

a goofy ficlet, you can either read it below or on ao3 :)

To say that this is a normal dungeon would be an... understatement.

It's not that there's anything particularly wrong about it, Twi thinks as he squints at the wall. The bricks are uniform(ish), there isn't (that) much wear and tear, it's all as grey and drab as some dungeons tend to be. Objectively, he's just standing in a random dungeon room with the other heroes. It could be from anywhere, anywhen, whatever.

But, it's just...

"Why the hell is there a piñata here?!" Legend shouts, pointing wildly at the bright and goofy horse-thing hanging in the center of the room.

Twi sighs. They'd only just learned what piñatas are last week from Wild, who was extremely distressed to know that the others didn't know about them. And now, in a random dungeon, that should be normal and not weird and which definitely isn't in Wild's era, there's a piñata. Just hanging there. Waiting.

"It be thinkin' ye be needin' an aneurysm." Wind marches forward, ignoring Legend's splutters to pick at the pile of fabric strips hanging below the piñata. "Should we be... fightin' it?"

All eyes turn to Time, who just shrugs. "Maybe?"

"Yes," Wars says immediately after. "We have no idea whether it is safe or not, or what could be stored within it. Better to take care of it before we move on."

'Usually it's just got candy!' Wild signs to the room, though most miss the words.

"We're so fucked," Hyrule mutters next to Twi. "Well, ready for this?"

'No,' Twi laughs, accepting a blindfold from the pile that's being passed around. 'But I'm thinkin' it'll be fun!'

"Uh-huh."

Once blindfolded, Twi is left with the realization that he can't actually see Wild, which means he can't see what Wild would presumably want to say about the best way to fight piñatas. And he's left with the second realization that nobody else can see him, so he can't exactly express that information to the group. Although, now that he thinks about it, Hyrule isn't bad at understanding sign by touch alone...

Waving awkwardly in the air, Twi eventually makes contact with Hyrule. And immediately regrets his decision when an extremely pointed punch slams into his gut.

"Monsters!" Hyrule shouts. "One must've infiltrated just now-- it grabbed me!"

"Attack, aim for the piñata first!" Wars shouts. "But be careful of each other!"

"Should we be takin' off--"

A whack! cuts Wind off, the sound of metal on paper, before immediately being followed by an "oof!" from Legend.

"One of-- those monsters-- got me!" he wheezes from the vague direction of the other side of the room.

Chaos erupts. Twi abandons the thought of using his sword, due to the far-too-close proximity of literally everyone else, and just takes to swinging with his fists. He's pretty sure that there aren't actually any monsters infiltrating their ranks, but it's hard enough to tell amongst the repeated callouts of monster locations.

Eventually, though, one of his fists connects with paper. The piñata.

Gritting his teeth, Twi cocks his arm back and gears up. Sets his feet just-so, prepares to fling himself behind the hit and take care of this possibly-or-possibly-not-cursed piñata in one go. Swings, mentally shouting, imagining the piñata before him, quaking in its papery boots at the sight of his fist barreling down on it.

His hand collides with what can only be described as a metal wall, the clang! of it ringing through the entire room.

"What was that?!" "Time, are you--" "More monsters??" "I found the piñata!"

A tearing sound-- and then the sound of someone (Legend) cackling-- ensues. And then, nothing but utter silence.

Well, not entirely nothing. Twi holds his hand to his chest, because he's pretty sure he just broke every single finger on Time's armor, and his ego admittedly feels defeated by that fact. Oh, and it hurts like a bitch.

"Hey!" Wind shouts. "There only be the piñata! No monsters!"

Huh? Twi (and everyone else, apparently) tug off their blindfolds to stare at...

Seven bedraggled heroes, one piñata lying torn to shreds on the ground, and Wild, sitting with a smug grin at the edge of the room.

'You know,' he says, 'you're not all supposed to put on the blindfolds.'

Shouting sounds from several heroes. Twi drops his head in his one working hand. Lesson learned: next time, ask Wild to elaborate before charging in.

...And ask questions before Wind cheerfully hands you a blindfold. Twi makes sure to note that one, too.

[royaltyoon]

HEADCANONS

Escape room headcanons

[A/N]

This is extremely random.

I really really really should be studying :|

Samuel

Samuel is a smart man, he knows what he's doing. ...Most of the time

But unfortunately, his lack of patience is a problem. A prominent one when it comes to solving an escape room

His patience level goes somewhat like

His hypothesis doesn't work? He inhales sharply.

The key isn't the right one? He pinches the bridge of his nose.

You suggest an excruciatingly stupid idea? He puts his head in his hands.

The puzzle just. Won't. Get. Solved?? He grits his teeth.

The damn door still WONT OPEN?! He punches the wall.

His impatience was doing him no favours. Nor did his inflated ego.

"Samuel, let's just take a hint?"

"no." The boy absolutely refused to take help.

Even god himself couldn't convince him.

'God' in this situation happened to be the employee who was assigned to look after your room.

"sir, do you want a hint?" A voice rang out from the speakers. Bless his soul for noticing how we were stuck on the puzzle for a good 10 minutes.

You grew hopeful thinking atleast now Samuel would take a hint.

But to your dismay, he just turned to the camera and gave the meanest most cold death glare known to humanity. One thing you took out of this experience? Never test Samuel's patience beyond a certain limit.

You could practically hear the Shiver that ran down the poor employee's spine. "S-sorry sir."

"come on Samuel, let's just take one hint." You coaxed him, hoping it did more repair to the situation. "Fine" he muttered, begrudgingly that is.

The employee had to confirm it twice with us before giving us a hint, poor soul. You noted mentally to give him a bigger tip than usual.

You remember that 'excruciatingly stupid idea' of yours?

Yeah, that was the right answer.

HAH!

You immediately, I mean IMMEDIATELY threw Samuel a 'I told you so' look. And he just as quickly looked away.

His god complex shrivelling up inside of him, and with every cell of his body hating the idea he mumbled a small 'yeah alright I'm sorry'

All in all? Samuel is never doing an escape room ever again.

And you're almost sure you noticed the employee from before looking at new job opportunities on his phone.

Jake

Jake would actually try, in the beginning that is.

You could tell he was genuinely trying when he moved all the displayed objects at a certain angle hoping a secret door appears out of nowhere.

He asked questions which went from smart to plain dumb faster than you'd like to admit.

Not like you were much help in the situation either. Apparently feeling up the wall for secret buttons isn't a good idea either. Shockingly. The idea seemed genius in your head.

At one point the room just stood silent, both of you looking at eachother before silently coming to an agreement.

He spoke, louder this time, "can we have our first hint?"

Guess what? The hint didn't do much to help.

You could practically see the gears in Jake's mind stop working.

"um, can we have a more specific hint? Something that would actually give us the answer in not so vague words?"

The room fell silent again. Before the employee cleared his throat before spoon feeding us the answer.

It was not taken well by jake that solving one puzzle isn't the end of the escape room.

"THERE'S MORE?"

The employee let us know that 3 hints were the maximum they were allowed to give out.

It settled in the feeling that neither him nor you are fit to escape a room.

You both stood on opposite sides of the room, looking through narrow eyes if anything of meaning pops up. Spoiler alert: it didn't

Finally you both decided on giving up and rather just talk your time away.

"we can't solve this because there's no urgent need to get out. If this was a real situation, our brains would work faster." He said, seeming very unsure of what he's saying.

"Of course, we're not that stupid. If our lives were on the line, we'd definitely escape the room. Probably."

Yeah, you could say delusional would be an appropriate self diagnosis.

"what kind of escape room doesn't have trap doors and secret buttons? Those would be the first thing I would look for if I was locked in a room!" He emphasised

"honestly, if I was trapped in a room like this I wouldn't panic to get out immediately. It's pretty well furnished, there's even a TV. As for the bathroom, I'm sure I can make do." You shrugged looking around.

"I know right! If I was to cage someone up, I most definitely won't give them a TV. That's more like adopting rather than kidnapping. I'd also not give them hints to get out. That defeats the point, unless they figure out the trap doors and hidden compartments." If you can't tell he was really set on the idea of trap doors.

"If I were to hold someone hostage, I'd have them tied to a chair. There's nothing safer than that. No risk of escape whatsoever." Yeah the conversation got dark real quick.

But he just nodded in agreement.

Needless to say, you both got uncomfortable side eyes from the employees once the timer was over.

All in all? Time was well spent. Not doing the escape room.

Here's part 2

[cyllres]

Devil | JJK x Makima! Reader

Chapter 15

You walked back inside the building, the flickering candlelight casting elongated shadows that danced across the walls. The room now felt imbued with a heavy, almost oppressive silence. The air seemed thicker, the atmosphere more tense as you stepped forward, the weight of the recent revelations pressing on your mind.

Principal Yaga, still engrossed in his task, didn't immediately acknowledge your presence. His fingers deftly worked the yarn, creating yet another plushie. The rhythmic movement of his hands was almost hypnotic, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air.

“It's a pleasure meeting you, Yaga-sensei,” you said, bowing respectfully. The motion was precise, controlled, a practiced gesture that hid the turmoil churning within you.

Yaga finally looked up from his knitting, his gaze settling on you with a mixture of curiosity and scrutiny. His eyes, sharp and discerning, seemed to weigh your words and your demeanor, searching for something beneath the surface.

You straightened up, maintaining a polite smile. “I’m Y/n Itadori. I like dogs.” The words felt almost surreal, a strange echo of normalcy in a moment that was anything but ordinary. Your voice was steady, the tone calm, yet the turmoil beneath your composed exterior was palpable.

“What did you come here for?” Masamichi asked. You stood straight, meeting his gaze.

“Interview,” you answered simply, making Masamichi deadpan for a quick second.

“But why Jujutsu Tech?” He followed up.

“To become a sorcerer,” you answered confidently, making him deadpan even more.

“I mean, beyond that? What do you hope to find once you become a sorcerer?” Masamichi pressed further.

“I'm here to make sure my brother stays safe when he goes to get Sukuna's fingers. Additionally, he is adamant about remaining here because it is risky to allow that curse object to exist,” you explained.

“Why?” He asked again, making you bite your tongue in annoyance, your polite smile wavering for a bit. “Every day, people you'll never meet pass away from illnesses, accidents, crimes, and the normal course of life. But you're telling me that even though it's the result of a curse, you can't ignore it? Much more that the only reason you want to become a sorcerer is because your brother would serve as Sukuna's vessel?” He pressed, and you mentally rolled your eyes.

“I mean, it's my brother... I don't care about the details,” you answered, your voice edged with frustration.

Masamichi only let out a disappointed huff. “So you're saying you fight against curses because your brother is fighting curses too?” He asked, making you nod. “You fail!” Your eyes widened, about to protest, but one of the motionless plushies punched you right in the face, making you lose your balance.

“What the hell are these?” You asked, as you held your cheek, quickly standing up to avoid another punch.

“Cursed corpses. They're dolls infused with my curse energy,” Masamichi explained. You formed your fingers into a gun, quickly pointing it at the approaching cursed corpse.

“Bang,” you spat out, only for it to dodge your attack, leaving a dent in the wall behind it.

“You can't damage the property,” Masamichi informed, making you groan, your polite smile now replaced with an annoyed look. Before you could aim at the cursed corpse again, it quickly punched you right in the gut, making you fall to your knees.

"I'm going to kill this doll," you muttered through gritted teeth, not caring about the interview anymore as the doll mockingly danced in front of you, taunting you.

“A person's true nature reveals itself during a crisis. I'll keep attacking you until I get an acceptable answer,” Masamichi said sternly. “And you can't damage the building with your force manipulation unless you want to fail immediately!”

“Look, my brother is not just someone else!” You stood up, dodging another punch as you aimed your fingers again, clicking your tongue in annoyance at your inability to hit the fast-moving target.

‘If only Pochita were here,’ you thought to yourself as you dodged once again. Anger surged through you as the cursed corpse got too close. You let out a small bang, ripping the cursed corpse in half. Before you could catch your breath, another plushie punched you in the stomach, this time with even more speed and force.

‘Fuck, where is it?’ you thought, your shaky fingers aimlessly pointing at the cursed corpse that continued to toy with you. Before you could react, it delivered another punch, slamming you against the wall, causing you to groan in pain.

“A family member is still someone else,” Masamichi said, cutting into your thoughts. The cursed corpse took this opportunity to mock you further, its movements almost gleeful in their cruelty.

‘Getting fucked up by a plushie is so fucking humiliating,’ you bit your tongue as you aimed your finger at it again.

“A jujutsu sorcerer constantly faces death. And not just their own. Sometimes you must ignore those murdered by a curse to pursue the cursed spirit. Being a sorcerer is an unpleasant job. You have to be a little crazy and highly motivated to handle it. But you want to be a sorcerer because someone else? Don't make me laugh!” Masamichi said angrily. You looked at him with fury burning in your eyes.

“Excuse me—” before you began to curse him he cut you off sharply.

“Are you going to blame your brother when you're killed by a curse, too?” he asked harshly. You clicked your tongue as you stood up, anger fueling you.

“A bit harsh, aren't you?” you spat. Before you could point your finger at the cursed corpse, it quickly punched you again, causing blood to gush from your mouth.

“It's not easy to imagine how you feel on the verge of death. However, I can say one thing for certain. At this rate, you're going, you could end up cursing your brother. Sorcerers never die without regret. I'll ask you one more time. Why did you come here to Jujutsu Tech?”

Before the cursed corpse could land another punch, you unleashed a focused blast of your force manipulation, obliterating it. Taking the opportunity, you turned your aim on the remaining unmoving plushies, destroying them all in a fit of frustration.

“I don't want my brother to die,” you admitted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your tone despite your best efforts to remain composed. “I am tangled up in a mess where mine and my brother's lives are in danger. What's so wrong with wanting to live with my brother? If I could find a way to escape our death sentence or run away without consequences, I would have dragged him along with me. But there isn't, and you expect me to sit back and accept this fate? I didn't ask for any of this, yet here we are.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the effort to articulate your thoughts becoming more taxing with each word. “I won't stand idly by and watch my brother die. I want to find a way to defeat Sukuna without sacrificing him,” you declared fiercely, your eyes locked onto Masamichi with unwavering determination Your legs weakened as you coughed up more blood, collapsing to the floor. “I don't mind dying, but I don't want to regret letting my brother die without even trying to save him!” you declared, glaring at Masamichi with fierce determination.

“Satoru,” Masamichi said, his voice breaking the heavy silence that followed your outburst. You quickly turned, seeing your brother and teacher standing side by side. They must have entered without you noticing. Yuuji looked at you with concern etched on his face, but Satoru held him back from approaching.

“Show them the dorm. Explain the security and everything else to them too. Both of them passed. Welcome to Jujutsu Tech,” Masamichi declared, a faint smile playing on his lips. You sighed in relief, attempting to stand, but your legs wobbled and gave out beneath you. Yuuji rushed to help, but you pushed his hand away, still simmering with anger from your earlier argument.

“Y/n,” Yuuji spoke, his tone carrying a hint of sternness tempered with concern. “Don't be stubborn,” he urged gently, guiding you upright despite your resistance.

Masamichi's eyes flickered with understanding as he observed the exchange. “Let Ieiri check on her,” he suggested calmly, gesturing towards you. His concern was palpable, a reminder that despite his role as principal, he cared deeply for the well-being of his students

-

The air in Shoko Ieiri's office was cool, almost sterile, filled with the scent of antiseptic and the faint lingering trace of cigarette smoke. The stark lighting cast sharp shadows across the shelves lined with medical kits, vials, and clinical equipment. You glanced around, your eyes drifting over the array of tools and medicines, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and discomfort in this space.

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence as you pointed towards Shoko's hands. She was in the midst of manipulating her cursed energy, the air around her shimmering slightly as she worked.

Shoko looked up, her expression momentarily puzzled. “What’s what?” she replied, following your gaze.

“That,” you repeated, gesturing more clearly to the energy swirling around her hands. Despite your calm and composed demeanor, there was a glint of eagerness in your eyes, a hunger for knowledge and understanding that belied your polite exterior. “Is this your cursed technique? How do you do that?”

Shoko regarded you for a moment, as if weighing the depth of your interest. “It’s the Reversed Cursed Technique,” she explained, her voice measured and instructive. “It involves multiplying two negative sources of Cursed Energy, resulting in a form of energy that creates rather than destroys.”

You nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. “Can I try?” you asked, your tone polite but insistent. Shoko’s eyes widened slightly at the audacity of your request.

“I just finished healing you,” Shoko pointed out, her tone tinged with mild disbelief. She had barely turned away when you raised your finger to your head, forming it into the shape of a gun.

“Bang,” you murmured, and a sudden force struck you, enough to make your head jerk back and blood to trickle down your face. Shoko’s calm exterior cracked, worry flashing across her features.

“You’re so reckless,” she scolded, her voice tight with concern. Despite the dizziness from the concussion, you shrugged, offering her a polite smile as if you hadn’t just intentionally harmed yourself.

“Now can you show me how you do it again?” you asked, your tone almost serene. Shoko sighed but relented, activating her Reversed Cursed Technique once more. You watched intently as the white, smoke-like bubble of healing energy enveloped you, the soothing warmth knitting your injuries back together.

Fully healed, you brought your finger to your head again, whispering another “bang.” This time, Shoko didn’t react outwardly, though her eyes never left you.

You took a deep breath, focusing on your cursed energy. Shoko stood back, observing with a mix of caution and curiosity. Shoko knew that for a Grade 4 Sorcerer like you, attempting the Reversed Cursed Technique was difficult— nearly impossible. This technique was exceptionally complex, requiring not just skill but also an intimate understanding of manipulating Cursed Energy. Only a few sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech had mastered it, underscoring its rarity and difficulty. Even Shoko, despite her expertise, found it challenging to perfect and even demonstrate it. But Shoko also believes there's no harm in trying. Blood from the earlier injury dripped onto your shirt, but you ignored it, channeling all your attention into replicating the technique.

For a moment, the air around you shimmered with a faint, white glow. Shoko’s eyes widened in surprise as the bubble of healing energy began to form around you. “You surprised me,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. The unexpected praise broke your concentration, and the energy dissipated.

“Ah, I only managed to heal myself a bit,” you admitted, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. Shoko nodded, stepping forward to activate her Technique again, fully healing you this time.

“You should master this,” she advised, her tone serious. “It’s a useful technique. If you become strong enough, you might be able to heal others.” Her words carried weight, the implication of what you could achieve with enough practice and dedication.

You nodded, absorbing her advice. Hopping off the chair, you bowed politely, muttering a small goodbye as you turned to leave. A smile tugged at your lips, a sense of accomplishment warming you despite the trials of the day.

Outside, Satoru and Yuuji were waiting, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Shoko had barred them from entering, insisting on treating you without distractions.

“Let’s go~?” Satoru asked, his usual enthusiasm evident. You nodded, joining them as the three of you began walking towards the dormitory halls.

As you walked away, Shoko watched from the doorway of her office, a rare smile gracing her lips. She lit another cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light. “Finally, someone to share my workload with,” she mused softly, the thought bringing her a sense of quiet satisfaction.

-

Kape?

[strscrossed]

stupid, a high school reincarnation ficlet

yes that's the title. no it's not a joke. you'll see why. this wasn't edited at all and i'm in my feels right now after tiktok put me there. ANYWAY! here's the moment mikasa saw eren for the first time!

Mikasa felt like she had no reason to be so heartbroken. 

It was a rainy afternoon on a Monday in mid-October. Mina was her project and they worked well together. The project was already done and the two of them were just hanging out in the girl’s room. 

“Are you on Instagram? I want to follow you!” 

Mikasa shook her head, “I don’t really do social media.Tried it once, it’s way too stressful.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Mina went to the bathroom and Mikasa saw that the rain had let up a little bit. Well that was nice, maybe some fresh air. 

Big mistake. 

She didn’t know how she was going to meet Eren in this life, if she was even going to see him at all. As the years went by, the hope of it dwindled. There were other things going on in her life, so she tried not to think about how alone she was. Again. 

She never thought this would be how. 

Eren stood on the neighbor’s balcony and he wasn’t alone. There, on the balcony, for the world to see, he was making out with a girl. She didn’t know who and with their state of dress or lack thereof, it was obvious what they’d been doing.

Her chest constricted painfully and she forgot how to breathe. Her brain barely registered the fact that she was seeing Eren in front of her. It was now registering heartbreak on top of that. And all of that combined led her to gasp. And it was loud enough to get their attention. 

This was a nightmare, it had to be. Their eyes met and before he could even run, she ran out. She had to leave. She had to go. 

She heard her name and wasn’t sure who was calling it. The rain started again and she was soaked to the bone but she continued to run. 

This was stupid, so stupid. She had no right to be upset. She had her share of wild nights with random guys. It still hurts though. And she can’t breathe. She’d wanted to find him for so long. Things had ended horribly for them, but there was always that promise. 

See you later… 

Beer couldn’t solve this. It was time to break out some of Kenny’s cheap whiskey. She almost collapsed on the sidewalk, but she wasn’t dramatic enough for that. 

She never thought she’d see Eren again. Now, she wished that she never had… 

-

Eren was panicking. 

“You’re sure it was her, Eren?” Armin asked. 

He scowled, though Armin couldn’t see him. He’d been forced to drive home after driving around for an hour. He knew that it was her. He’d know Mikasa Ackerman anywhere. He’d only been pining after her all this life and last. 

“You think I wouldn’t be able to pick Mikasa out from a crowd. It was her, Armin. And she saw everything,” he gritted his teeth, kicking himself mentally again and again. 

“Damn it,” Armin let out a deep breath. “You’re telling me she’s been around this whole time and the first time she sees you in this lifetime is after you hooked up with Lara Tybur, is that right?” 

Eren made a noise, “I swear, Armin, if I have to repeat myself…” 

Armin mumbled something under his breath, “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out. But you better be ready to grovel because this is just one more thing you have to make up for. I can’t believe you, honestly.” 

“Yeah, I know. I already feel like shit, Armin, I’m just telling you that she’s here. I don’t know where she went but she saw me and booked it. You can punch me again at a later time. First, help me find her. That’s all.” 

“Oh, I will. But Eren? She may not be ready to talk to you. So be ready if that’s the case.” 

The line went dead and Eren was close to chucking it at the wall. 

He was an idiot. When he met Lara again, it was awkward as hell, obviously. But she looked so much like Mikasa, it was almost scary. The attraction was there and they’d been going at it since June. The fact didn’t escape him that he went from literally eating her last life to eating her in a completely other way. 

But Mikasa had seen and the summer he’d had was the furthest thing from his mind. Mikasa was the only girl that mattered to him. She was the only girl he’d ever loved, the only girl he would ever love. And he broke her heart. Again. 

Lara texted him earlier and he just told her that their little arrangement was over. There was no room for interpretation, it was done. He wanted to find Mikasa. He wanted to be with Mikasa. Only her, no one else. 

He just had to find her. And grovel. He was willing to get down on his knees and beg. He didn’t give a damn about his pride when it came to her. 

-

They went to the same school. In fact, they had study hall together. What the fuck, how had he missed that? Oh right, their teacher couldn’t care less if they showed up or not and didn’t bother taking attendance. 

She avoided him like the plague. He tried calling out to her and she just walked faster. It hurt, it hurt a lot but he was nothing if not persistent. 

He tried to find her during break and lunch, no luck. Last life, she avoided him like the plague whenever she was upset. She was doing just that. 

He did manage to run up to her at one point on Thursday afternoon, on the way to study hall. He tried to talk, he tried to say anything but she sighed. It wasn’t even a sigh of anger or frustration, she was just tired. 

“I’m not in the mood for talking, Eren. Please leave me alone.” 

“Mikasa, please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “I just want to talk. What you saw—”

“Eren. Leave. Me. Alone.” 

She disappeared into the classroom before he could beg again. Study hall was their last period but they weren’t allowed to talk. She just ran off. 

She didn’t want to talk. 

He stood there. He didn’t want to give up, but he felt like the biggest piece of shit. 

And maybe, he deserved it.

[awkwardlyfangirly]

hiya!! I had a request for a fic?? Maybe flustered Casey jr x Y/N crush 👀💕

omgosh yeah-ima-nerd i love ur art!! I don't have much experience writing for casey but i GAVE IT A SHOT lol hope u like!

/////////////

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Casey Jr. x female reader

/////////////

They’re at Walmart throwing must-have present-time snacks and treats into the cart, shoving brightly colored crinkly packages in front of Casey’s face.

“These are the best!!” Mikey shouts, tossing a hard box of cookies into the cart. Casey smiles at him and glances around.

The light in the store is harsh and glaring, not like anything he’s used to from back home. Back in his own time. The air is artificial and the humans are calm and free and pick quietly at the shelves of plentiful food and it’s all so strange. It’s all so strange.

“Casey?” He feels April’s hand on his upper arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m good.”

He scratches at his chin and looks around again. No one is paying him a second thought. No one is paying any of them a second thought.

He feels cold. He’s wearing a jacket and long pants; he’s completely covered; but the coldness of this time seeps into his bones. It permeates him. He’s cold, cold, cold, always.

“These are a must-have treat!” Donnie tells him, gently placing another package of food into the cart. Casey smiles. He’s getting dizzy.

“I think I’m going to go get some fresh air,” he tells April, and she shoots him a thumbs-up.

The air outside doesn’t help much. It’s clogged up and cold and it burns his throat and lungs and he coughs and tries to breathe through the filter of his sleeve.

Sometimes he misses his own time. Sure, the world was ending and he lived in constant fear of the destruction of himself and everything and everyone he loved and he had to make do with limited food options but it was familiar and it was home. Now he’s… here. Wherever this is. Whenever this is. And his family will never, ever exist again. They’re gone forever.

And, much to his dismay, he starts crying in front of the Walmart.

He’s tucked up in a little corner, the sidewalk below him coated with black spots and debris, and he’s surrounded by cold stone instead of warm biogrowth and his entire family is gone and dead and erased and he’s angrily wiping tears from his eyes in front of the Walmart.

He hates this jacket. He hates these clothes. He hates his soft conditioned hair and his clean scrubbed skin. He hates these cold stones and the litter all around him and the oblivious humans just going about their lives like half of them weren’t Krang slaves in his own timeline. And he hates this stupid time and this stupid city and this stupid grocery store and the stupid snacks going in the stupid cart and the stupid stupid stupid everything everything stupid and he’s so mad and furious and guilty and he’s sucking in his breath tight and wiping his eyes faster and faster.

Suddenly he hears someone quietly approach him, their feet tapping on the concrete, and he squeezes his hands into fists and tries to wish them away.

“Hey,” the someone says, crouching down in front of him, “hey, hey, you good? You okay?”

He ignores her. Maybe she will go away if he ignores her. (Also he can’t speak. His throat is squeezed shut and he’s busy punching tears out of his eyes with his own two hands.)

“Look,” she says, “I get that you might want to be alone right now. And that’s okay. I’ll respect that. But I also know that you have to be at a pretty low point in your life to cry in front of Walmart. That’s like having a mental breakdown at a Denny’s. Pretty sad thing to do. So yeah. You good, bro?”

Ugh. She won’t leave until he addresses her. He grits his teeth. “Leave me alone. I’m great. I’m doing awesome. I just hate everything about this stupid place and I want to go home but my home sucks and it doesn’t even exist anymore, anyways. I’m stuck here. And I’m always cold.”

He feels her sit down next to him, back against the stone wall. He turns his face away, still swiping at his eyes and nose.

She pokes against his hand. He looks down sharply. She’s holding a packet of tissues out to him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking it and blowing his nose.

“Sorry you’re stuck here,” she says.

“Yeah. Me too.” He rubs at his left temple, right where he gets the headaches. It’s starting to throb.

She rummages in her purse and pulls out a shooter marble.

“Here,” she says, holding it out to him.

He stares at it.

“Whenever I really feel stressed or sad or bad,” she says, “I just kinda… roll it between my fingers. And focus on it, and how it looks. And it usually helps me calm down. I don’t know,” she says, embarrassed, her fingers twitching around the marble, “if you don’t want it, that’s okay, I just --”

Casey cups his hands, and she lets the marble roll into them.

“There ya go,” she says, awkwardly. “I hope it helps you. Sorry again, about your home. And being stuck. I’m really sorry.” She stands up with an oof and brushes off the seat of her pants. “Bye.”

She goes into the Walmart, and Casey rubs the marble between his thumb and forefinger and watches the light filter through it.

By the time his new family walks back out, their arms laden with plastic bags and snacks, he’s breathing evenly again. His eyes are dry and his nose is still runny and he’s thinking clearly again. He’s hungry, and his feet hurt.

“There he is!” April says as soon as she sees him. “I got worried about you!”

He smiles and pushes himself back up to his feet. “I’m so hungry. Let’s get home and try some of these snacks, eh??”

//

He has the marble in his pocket, always, and when it’s late at night and his mind is pelted with Leo’s last words and Mikey’s last look and the taste of roasted rat meat, he takes out the marble and feels its solid coolness in his hands.

He can’t stop thinking about her. Marble Girl. She sat down next to him and handed him tissues. Marble Girl. He can’t stop thinking about the random kindness she showed him.

Raph notices the marble one day.

“Hey, Casey,” he says, squinting at it, “what is that?”

“A marble.” Casey holds his hand flat and lets Raph look at it.

“Oh, pretty! Where’d you get it?”

“Someone gave it to me,” he says.

He can feel something. Heat, in his cheeks, on his neck. Persistent heat.

Leo leans over the table and gasps. “Ooh, he’s blushing -- Casey! Was it a girl?!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

The heat deepens, spreads.

“Ahhh!” Leo crows. “I’m right! I’m RIGHT! Who is it?? What’s her name?? Do we know her?? How did you meet?? Wha --”

“Buzz off, Nardo!” Donnie cuts in, shoving Leo away from Casey with one of his mechanical arms. He immediately drops his voice. “Do you want me to run a background check on her? You can never be too sure these days. Even April started working with the Foot Clan once. Sure, it was an accident and she didn’t know any better, but --”

“You’re embarrassing him!” Casey hadn’t even noticed Mikey walk into the room, but here he was, tugging on Donnie’s arm. “Leave him alone! Look at how red he is!”

The brothers fall silent and stare at Casey.

“Oh my gosh,” Raph says. “He’s almost as red as me!!”

He holds the tails of his bandana up against Casey’s cheek. “See?”

“Whoa!! Is it hot to the touch?” Leo scampers over, pressing his cold scaly fingers against Casey’s neck. Casey yelps and swats him away. “Please! Please let me touch your red human skin!!”

Casey feels like he’s on fire.

.//

They’ve left him alone after that, for the most part, not really teasing him too badly about his ‘crush on the girl who gave him the marble.’ But he walks into the lair one day and they’re all clustered around the kitchen table and they look up and over at him with mischievous, mischievous grins, and he stops in his tracks -- what do they have up their sleeves today?

“Guys?”

They all step back, revealing Marble Girl, sipping a juice box at the kitchen table.

She waves and giggles, her cheeks nearly as red at his.

Casey feels his mind short-circuit.

“We found her for you!!” Leo grins and throws out his arms, framing Marble Girl for Casey.

“Hii,” she says. “Glad to see you’re not currently crying.”

He can feel his heart in his cheeks. Thumping.

Mouth open. No words.

“Talk to him more!!” Leo encourages. “He’s just shy!!”

She glances at the mutant turtles surrounding her, staring intensely at her and Casey. “Um -- wanna go grab a coffee?”

//

They sit outside. The air is frigid, sharp against their faces. But Casey doesn’t feel cold. He feels warm. In his face, in his bones. Just warm.

She sips her coffee and smiles at him.

“I like your hair,” she says.

“Thanks,” he says back, and his voice squeaks.

He coughs.

She giggles.

“So you liked the marble?”

“I like the marble.”

She sips at her drink.

He bites at his nails.

He can feel that fire on his cheeks and his neck again.

“So, um, what’s your name?”

“(Y/n),” she says, and smiles, and reaches out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, forcing his most-composed smile. “Casey.”

He grabs her hand. It’s soft, and warm, and he feels himself blush even harder, harder.

Oh no. She notices. She sees it.

He quickly gulps some drink and rests his chin in his hands, trying to cover up the red. His heart is pounding, his face red, his fingers trembling. She’s looking at him. Sweet, sweet Marble Girl -- Y/n -- is looking at him, directly and personally, from across the tiny table.

She folds her hands under her chin and stares him in the eyes.

He glances away and clears his throat, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously.

“What conditioner do you use?” she asks. “And where are you from?”

“Hmm?”

“Conditioner,” she says. “You have shiny fluffy hair.”

“No, no, um --”

“Where you’re from? Yeah, yeah, where you’re from. You said your home was gone. …Agh, that’s probably too personal, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I --”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay. Um. Yeah, it’s a little hard to believe, but I’m actually from…” he lowers his voice mysteriously “...the future.”

“The what?”

“The future.”

“Ooh! Good one.”

“No. I’m serious. I’m from the future. Well -- a future that no longer exists.”

“What? Really?” She’s staring at him, eyes wide and curious.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, given that your entire family is giant turtles, that isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve encountered today.” She laughs.

Casey smiles at her, softly. Gosh, he feels warm. The air is nipping at his nose and he just feels warm.

“So,” she says, leaning forward and wrapping her hands around her cup, “tell me: how did you get here? How did a boy from the future end up in modern-day NYC?”

She’s looking right at him, right right at him, and his heart is thumping in his ears.

He can’t talk for a moment, his brain buzzing out of commission for a few seconds.

“Hey? Earth to Casey?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, finally, surprised by the sudden sound of his voice. “Sorry. It’s just really hard for me to think when you look at me.”

“Ooh.” Her eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh my gosh,” he says, his cheeks darkening. “Oh my gosh.”

They just stare at each other for a second, their faces red, their eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Casey mumbles, blushing harder and harder.

And Y/n just covers her face with her hands and giggles and giggles.

[lunathebee]

hello beautiful person!, is it possible i could request a one shot with marc where you are stressed out because of work, you got sick, and you guys got into an argument that just put the cherry on top? i love your writing so much and i love angst and you were the perfect person i could think of. if you can not, i completely understand. thank you so much!!❤️

Pairing: husband!Marc Spector x wife!fem!reader

Warning: angst (a lot), cursed words, mostly yelling dialogue

A/n: this fic genuinely broke me tbh, I love angst but sometimes it's a curse 😭 you said "cherry on top" and my job is to served

Summary: You are sick, physically and mentally because of Marc

Y/n are sick.

She is so sick of her job and her husband that she becomes physically ill, vomiting up any food she forced herself to eat and crying over any minor inconvenience.

Everything is so hard. She thought marrying Marc was the right decision. Now look at her, sick and uncared for, alone with the emptiness and cold wind blowing through the window.

If it's not because of the wedding ring on her finger, people would think she is still single. That's what the old lady from the pharmacy store also thinks of. "You shouldn't be out when you're sick. Where is your husband?"

The question is like a knife digging inside Y/n's heart. She blinks her eyes a few times to stop the tears forming before asking how much the medicine is worth, earning a pity look from the old lady.

After buying some medicine, Y/N dragged herself home, eyes hazy and barely breathing through her nose. She remembers there is still some leftover soup in the fridge; maybe that will help her get better.

Y/n reached in her bag for the house's key, not realizing the door was not locked; someone had already been home before her.

"Babe...where have you been?"

Y/n doesn't even bother to answer Marc's question, her mind filled with the image of a piping hot bowl of soup.

"I said...where have you been?" Marc grabs Y/N's arm, stopping her from going to the kitchen. Maybe Y/n is getting too weak, she feels as if Marc's grip is a burning hot iron, ready to crush her arm.

Y/n held up the bag filled with pill tablet and a small bottle, eyes refused to look at Marc. She doesn't know how he is going to react, but that doesn't matter anymore. "I bought medicine. Can't you see? "

"Why don't you tell me you're sick? Babe, why are you hiding it from me?" The concern in Marc's voice only makes Y/n want to laugh, and she does. She laughs so hard that tears fill her eyes.

"Hiding? What are you talking about, Marc? I've been sick for WEEKS in my own house, which I share with my HUSBAND. Y/n pushed Marc away with her hand, making him stumble back in shock.

Before he could even say anything, Y/n glared at him and gritted her teeth. "No...no, you don't get to talk, it's still my turn, you hear me?"

Marc held up his hands in defeat, letting Y/n talk without interrupting her.

"I.am.sick of you. I don't know when you changed, Marc, but you're not the same man I used to know, or at least the same man I married. You're never home, you barely stay with me anymore, all because of your stupid superhero crap! " Y/n speaks with tears running down her cheeks. She doesn't even bother to wipe them off.

"Y/n...listen, I know you're upset, I know, but I can't just push my job aside, this is-"

"THEN WHY WOULD YOU EVEN MARRIED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

Marc's speech got cut off when Y/n yelled at him, her whole body trembled with rage to the point she turn red.

"Ok now you're just switching the topic, what does me not knowing you're sick got to do with us marrying and my job?! GOD" Marc punches the wall in anger, making a big hole in it.

The loud noise makes Y/n stunned and intentionally takes a step back. She feels scared and worried about Marc. Before meeting him, Y/N knew he suffered from anger issues, but she brushed it off as it rarely happened, never in a million years would Y/N think she was now the victim of it.

As much as she knows Marc would never hit her, she can't live like this anymore.

"You're the most SELFISH IDIOTIC PERSON I HAVE EVER MET"

"WHAT DO YOU EVEN KNOW"

"Oh, I know a lot. Got nothing to do with your job? Marc are you FUCKING INSANE? You don't care about me anymore! Everyday I wake up and you are gone, and every night I sit in the kitchen with one light on, waiting for you to get home so I can heat up the food, and when you're finally home, YOU WENT TO SLEEP. "

"Because I am tired?! Imagine working almost 24/7 a DAY, I didn't told you to wait, you could go to sleep, LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN"

"I'm not just a normal human! I AM YOUR WIFE, Marc. I am your fucking wife. Could you imagine how my life would turn out if I hadn't married you? You wipe me off your life, how do you end up? Still the same superhero in your glamour suit. What if I wipe YOU off my life? My life would be...so much....so much better...than THIS"

Y/N kneels down to the floor, clutching her chest and lets out a painful cry. She doesn't care if the neighbors hear her, she doesn't care about anything anymore, this is her final straw.

Marc doesn't look so much better. It hurts him to see how much you're in pain. Your tears drive him insane. He just wants to hug you, to comfort you, but he knows you will never let him do that again.

Never.

[i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper]

The life - Brienne x Faerys

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Visual of Faerys

Master list

Prompts: 40. “I have never hurt anyone. Yes, I’ve killed and I’ve damaged but those are things that you can overcome. Mentally, however, I’ve harmed no one but myself.”

Warnings: Angst, description of violence.

Words: 2.596

"You know I would move heavens and earth for you my little flame. Tell me what troubles you so."

"It's Viserys." She spoke quietly. Eldest sibling got confused. "What about him little one?" There was no mistaking bite in her voice, Faerys knew her brother has changed since their exile. But for Daenerys to look so scared of him. He messed up. Big time. "He wants me to marry one of Dothraki Khals." That was it, eldest one saw red at those words. "He. What." Anger, blinding, boiling, unmistakable in her voice. But at the sight of her little sister flinching Faerys forced herself to calm down. "I'm sorry my little flame. I didn't mean to frighten you. But I need to know. Did you accept?" Voice much gentler than before. She nodded. "I didn't have any other choice. He is to be king, and for that he needs army. The one I can provide by marrying a powerful man." She spoke. If Faerys was angry before she is absolutely livid now. But forcing herself to a calm state of mind yet again for the sake of not scaring her little sister. "You are already promised to him? How come I knew nothing of it?" Daenerys shook in her place, thinking she was about to be struck. "He told me not to mention it to you."

That was it. Red line has been crossed.

Gritting her teeth Faerys just nodded. "I see. I'm going to rest now my little flame, have nice day, and please do take some rest yourself." Faerys spoke as she hugged and kissed crown of her sisters head.

Daenerys appreciated softness her sister gave, always being gentler one of the siblings. Faerys was always the one to care and comfort Daenerys, no matter what, no matter how late in the night she came her arms were always widely spread and ready to engulf her in her comfort.

As soon as she was out of eyesight Faerys bolted for her brother's chambers. Bursting in without knocking se spoke. "You were going to give our sister away to some brute?!" Faerys was livid. "She told you? That little..." He spoke as he went for the door but was stopped with hand around his neck that pushed him back. "Yes. She told me, and you will not do anything. Unless you wish for broken bone that is." "How dare you speak to me in such manner. I am the King."

"Any man who must say, I am the king, is no true king. Do I need to remind you insolent child who is the elder one here. Just because I don't want the throne does not mean I won't take it from you if you continue being oppressor." He went deep red. "You dare-" "Yes. I fucking dare, because I am the one who wiped your ass, and took care of you. So you will shut your trap before I shut it, and speak when spoken to. Meaning I ask questions you answer. Understood." He knew better than to challenge his sister. She had quite a temper, so he nodded. "Now. You promised our sister. The light of my eyes and happiness of my heart to a dothraki savage. Do you care to explain why."

"He will give us his army. We can take our throne back with it."

"Oh. So it's our throne now, as far as I remember it was your throne until few moments ago. But my question still stands. Why. The. FUCK. Didn't. I. Know?" Faerys seemed more threatening than ever, her eyes nearly in slits, voice taking growling quality. Resembling a dragon more than a human in that moment. "Because you wouldn't allow it and we would loose perfectly good bargain." As soon as those words came out of his mouth Viserys hunched over, swift punch to the gut delivered by his sister sent him in to coughing fit grabbing his neck and pinning him to the wall. "OUR sister is not a bargaining chip you little shit, and what happened to others being inferior to OUR blood? Did you traumatize my sister with the thought of marrying you just to sell her like common WHORE?!" Faerys physical state is a mirror of her emotional one, veins on her forehead and neck protruding and pulsating, her jaw clenching and unclenching. Breathing erratic as she growled at her brother.

"You will call it off." She finished letting him drop onto his knees. "I can't." He wheezed. "What." Tone eerily calm. "I can't. She's promised to him, if we don't give her to him. He will find us and take her by force treating her worse than if she just accepted it." Seeing sense in his words and indeed it being hard situation. She nodded. "BUT. If she is hurt in anyway by him. You better find good spot to hide." With that Faerys went to her room.

Soon the day of ceremony came. The man that Faerys came to know as Drogo didn't seem to heavy on the eyes, but still...

"You seem concerned, my lady." Ser Jorah spoke, and she smiled. She found comfort in mans kind face and gentle voice. "How can I not be? My sister is off to marry complete stranger, and I can't do anything about it. I am the eldest of my family I was supposed to protect her." Faerys spoke but Jorah shook his head. "This is no fault of yours. From what I heard you didn't even know about it until few days ago. Stopping it then would cause great consequences for everyone included." Girl smiled and nodded.

The time of gifting the bride came, so Faerys stepped out. Her head held high as she presented her gift. A necklace, a dragon with greenish brown eyes. Pulling on her neckline Faerys showed off her own dragon with sky blue eyes. Daenerys knew meaning of her gift and nodded in gratitude. When she stepped back and stood beside Jorah he spoke. "That is a fine gift my lady, I hope you don't mind my asking but where did you acquire it?" She smiled and spoke "I made it. Took a long time about two weeks. But it payed off, I thought what better occasion that this to give it to her." The astounded look on knight's face was priceless and something she would remember for a long time.

Months passed, Daenerys fell more and more in love with her husband and soon...

"I'm gonna be an aunt? I'M GONNA BE AN AUNT?!" Tears of happiness prickled her eyes as younger girl smiled giddily and nodded. In matter of seconds she was lifted off the ground and twirled in the air. "Yes. You are gonna be an aunt." She knew how much Faerys loved children but this child was her own flesh and blood so it's even more special to her. From that day on eldest Targaryen would spend hours beside her sister. Hugging her, comforting her, petting her stomach and kissing it. Whispering to the baby and talking to it, promising the world and more to it. Truly and well in love with it even before it was born. Relationship between her and her brother in law improved significantly. They were friends, often joking with one another and teaming up against Daenerys in their teasing. Viserys was growing distant, insulting Danny much more and earning himself sharp glares sometimes even smacks from Faerys. But nothing could prepare the girl on the sight of her brother writhing in pain as molten gold burned his face and entered his inside. She was in shock but also pain. No matter what, how he acted and spoke, how he was towards her or anyone else. That was her baby brother, the very one she gently rocked in her arms and sang songs to. The one whom she played with and whose smile brightened her day before this world corrupted him. So she turned and left her soul burning with pain and anguish. Old memories rushing back, old wounds springing open. After she calmed she came back and spoke to her sister. Neither of them even thinking what future might bring.

Days turned into nights, and soon... It was day like any other that is until one of the Dothraki challenged Drogo wounding him, one of the witches offered her help but it was a trap. The man's wound got infected and as a result of blood magic preformed by the witch he got in to a state that was worse than death.

As Faerys walked in to the tent she saw Daenerys closing in on Drogo with a pillow in her hands understanding her sisters wish, she gently caught her wrists and took the pillow. "Why don't you take a walk my little flame." She spoke in gentlest of voices. As she walked out Faerys walked to the man. "Hello Drogo." He just stared at her but his eyes filled with sadness. "I will take care of her. I promise." As she finished that sentence she hit his throat as hard as she could, giving him swift and painless death.

The flames were wilding and burning everything, without a thought in her head Faerys rushed to protect her sister running into the flames. But they didn't burn her as she expected, no. They felt comforting as they licked her skin. Soon finding her sister also unharmed she rushed to her and enveloped her in a hug. Soon small cries were heard and two girls felt something brushing their skin as they looked down they saw four little dragons. Babies. Soon fire died down and people cheered when they saw that we were unharmed.

Three dragons were constantly following Danny but one of them... One of them was practically bound to Faerys with maternal cord. Never straying too far from her. It was night black she dragon with starlike spots on her and blood red eyes. Truly a beauty in her own right. So she deserved name worthy of her, she was named Layan.

Time passed, dragons grew exponentially so. All of them developing certain characters. While Drogon is less reliant on the other three and more headstrong and independent. He’s not aggressive, but he definitely goes his own way. Rhaegal is the most outwardly aggressive and ill-tempered. He fights with the others over food, Viserion is generally the mellowest of the three. Faerys and Danny would often call him lazy as a joke. Then there was Layan gentle and kind, always on Faerys shoulder when she was small, and when she grew she allowed Faerys to tuck herself in to dragons soft, warm belly as gentle giant wrapped her tail around her like protective blanket.

Many slaves were freed during years that have passed, Faerys even though older than her sister, surrendered throne willingly and instead was at her sister's side as her advisor. So when Jon Snow came speaking of walkers coming for the wall she was first to encourage Danny to hear him out, when conclusion came and they agreed on Daenerys coming to Winterfell, she marched along her sister.

Winterfell gates opened and soldiers walked in, Faerys saw unwelcoming faces of Northerners, but didn't take it to heart. Jon did warn them of the wairiness his people possessed towards outsiders. So she didn't give it much thought, when he said his hello to his family, he introduced us. His sister was a little bit cold towards Danny as she spoke. But again elder Targaryen understood what these people went trough and couldn't really blame them for their wariness. "It is honour to meet flesh and blood of the honorable." Faerys spoke as she bowed her head, at this Sansa smiled slightly and other lords seemed to lower their guard.

A man told them of the faith that befell Viserion, while both sisters felt their hearts shake and freeze in pain, Faerys decided to have some alone time as soon as her greetings were over. While Daenerys decided to keep those emotions for later in confines of her own chambers.

Soon the meeting of the lords started and all pledged their allegiance. The shock of Jamie Lannister coming to honour his promise of helping was surprise to everyone. He was accepted in to ranks and given instructions on what to do.

Brienne was taking a walk when she heard loud growl. It came from clearing nearby.

"We can't Layan, you know that. People might get scared and we don't need that girl." Faerys was trying to argue with dragon that obviously wanted to take off to the sky. But instead of hearing another complain from she dragon, Faerys was circled by her tail and loud growl emitted from deep within dragons chest as she glared into the forest in front of her.

A woman walked out with her hands in the air, she was exceptionally tall, with sandy yellow hair and./. Eyes bluer than the sea that surrounds Tarth. Soon it was like kick in to the face. Woman standing in front of Faerys was the very one who occupied her mind since she left Tarth.

"Faerys?" Came soft voice, barely loud enough to be heard. But no verbal answer came from silver haired woman, no. Only reply Brienne got was hard pull in to another's arms, and arms circling her but that was enough. Soon lady of Tarth returned the hug just as hard. Not believing that her friend was indeed alive and well.

Minutes turned in to hours as Faerys and Brienne spoke of their life up until that point. Layan became considerably calmer with Brienne when she saw that the woman posed no threat, even asking for pets. Which Faerys found very adorable, the fact that Brienne of Tarth petting a dragon like she would common hound and even more so when said dragon was constantly leaning in to her hand and slightly kicking his left leg. "She likes you. Very much so." Faerys spoke with slight smile and Brienne nodded smiling back giddily. Targaryen was glad that former somber mood that was brought by past and her words was extinguished.

“I have never hurt anyone. Yes, I’ve killed and I’ve damaged but those are things that you can overcome. Mentally, however, I’ve harmed no one but myself.” Those were words that Faerys spoke and that brought onslaught of unpleasant memories of her family dying and what was left of it being nearly killed multiple times. That was the moment when Layan decided to come in and ask for pets from Faerys and Brienne which brought them into their current situation. After seeing wide smile on the face of Brienne she decided to make it even wider. Bowing she then spoke "Would you care for a flight my lady." Face that Brienne made was priceless her mouth hung open as her eyes winded. She nodded nonetheless and soon they found themselves, high in the sky, Brienne's arms around Faerys waist holding on to her so she doesn't fall off. Laugh that emitted from blondes lips made Faerys wish it never stops.

"This is beautiful." Brienne spoke. "It indeed is my friend. Indeed is."

They landed after some time and when Faerys helped Brienne down from the dragon the latter spoke. "You just completely demolished horse riding for me." Laughing Faerys shook her head.

"You are welcome to come and ride with me any day."

"You do realize I am going to take you up on that offer as often as I can right?" Eldest Targaryen nodded with a smile.

[gypsynurooexemption]

His Grief

Miguel's sharp gaze falls upon the bruises adorning your face and neck, and a flicker of concern flashes across his eyes. "Who did this to you?" His voice carries a tinge of anger.

Caught off guard by his unexpected reaction, you find yourself momentarily speechless. Yeah, you two know each other, but your relationship leans more towards being adversaries than friends. After all, you were a villain, driven solely by personal gain. So why does he seem to care?

"Answer me," he grits his teeth.

Ryo huffs

"I'm fine."

"I'm not asking how you're feeling, I'm asking who hurt you." Miguel takes a step closer, bringing him inches from your face. His words are cold, yet there's not an ounce of maliciousness behind them, just pure, genuine concern.

You find yourself slightly intimidated by how close he is to you, but after a moment, you find yourself warming up to him. He actually cares about your well-being, which is something you're not used to.

"Tell me. Who hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter because I'm fine "

Ryo steps back and her back hits a wall. Her eyes widen slightly at the realisation. She was cornered.

His face hardens into a solemn frown, and a spark of irritation flashes in his eyes. "Not that again, don't you ever listen?" He grabs your shoulders with force and pins you against the wall, standing mere centimeters apart.

"Tell me who hurt you. Now."

Ryo struggles in his grasp

"Let. Me. Go! It doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me." His jaw clenches as he brings his face mere centimeters from yours, the anger in his eyes making it look like he's ready to throw a punch.

"You matter to me. And if someone's harming you in any way - physically or mentally - I need to know so that I can make sure they can't do that to you again. Is that understood?"

"Why does it matter so much? I'm a villain for Christ sake! "

"You may be a villain, but you're still a human being. And just because you've committed crimes in the past doesn't mean you deserve to be abused. Who hurt you?" He asks for the third time, his voice hard and cold.

He doesn't seem like the kind of hero who would stand idly by while someone gets abused. The thought makes you feel slightly warm inside, and even though your eyes are filled with tears from the pain of his rough grip, you feel yourself slightly wanting to lean a little closer to his face.

Ryo sighs and her face turns sad

"..my dad.. He gets a little violent when he drinks... "

A flicker of rage flashes in his eyes at hearing the name, but it quickly fades away when you meet his gaze. "Where is he?" Miguel's voice becomes cold and dangerous.

"Tell me where he is, and I'll make sure he never lays a finger on you again." He releases your shoulders and steps back, his fists trembling with suppressed anger.

Ryo places a hand on Miguel's chest

"It's fine..."

"It's not fine." Miguel scoffs and shakes his head. "You deserve someone who won't hurt you, someone who will treat you with the respect and kindness you deserve. Not someone like him. Don't let yourself get abused again by anyone. You hear me?" He stares at you, a hint of gentleness in his dark brown eyes. "You deserve better."

Ryo sighs her expression softening

"Miguel... "

She steps forward and pleases her forhead on his chest

"Having you care is enough.."

Miguel's eyes widen in surprise as you place you forehead on his chest, and he's left speechless for a few seconds.

"I..." He begins, but his sentence is cut off when he can't think of a sensible response. Instead of using his words, he wraps you in a tight embrace, lightly tracing your back with his fingertips.

"I'll always be by your side, no matter what."

And true to his word he stuck by her side for years. He helped her get better, and she helped him to all down when he was angry. Life for the two was good. Until a mission hoes wrong and Ryo is shot

Ryo ducks at the gunfire

"Miguel there's too many-"

Ryo stopsid sentence and holds her side. She was shot. She dropped to her knees

Miguel's reaction to hearing Ryo being shot is immediate and intense; his eyes widen, and he lets out a yell of rage before charging towards the enemies and sending them flying like ragdolls.

"Ryo!" He cries as he frantically makes his way over to her. He drops down to his knees beside her and holds her in his arms as he tries to assess her condition. "Oh god, Ryo, this isn't happening, please - tell me you're okay." His voice is riddled with despair and anguish, his eyes filled with tears.

Ryo hiccups for a it as she smiles sadly

"I'm... S-sorry Miguel.... Im sorry..."

She places a hand on Miguel's cheek as her body tembles and she gasps for air

Miguel gazes down at you in horror, the tears on his face making his mask wet as he's unable to think of what to do. His heart is breaking into a hundred pieces right now, and his mind is racing from all the emotions he's feeling.

"You can't die..." he whispers, his voice filled with tears. He strokes your hair softly, a look of pure devastation on his face. "Ryo, you can't die..."

Ryo leans up slowly and kisses Miguel's lips

"I never got to tell you.... I love you...Miguel O'Hara... You were the best thing that happened to me..."

Miguel's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden declaration, and a flicker of hope briefly flashes in his eyes when he realizes that Ryo's alive and awake, but the thought is quickly extinguished as he sees the deep crimson stain seeping from her wound.

"Ryo..." He whispers, unable to utter anything else. He leans forward to gently kiss her forehead, his eyes brimming with tears as a painful sob escapes from his lips. He pulls her close into his arms, holding her tightly against him. "I love you."

Ryo takes a final shuddered breath and closes her eyes got the last time

Miguel holds Ryo in his arms as the light slowly fades from her eyes, a painful wail of anguish escaping from his grief-stricken lips. It feels like his entire world is collapsing around him, like he's been robbed of the only person that truly cared for him.

As Ryo draws her final breath, his body is racked with sobs while a silent tear drops onto her brow. He's lost the love of his life, and in the cruelest way possible. How could this happen, to her of all people?After a while, Miguel's sobs subside into silent tears. He gently wipes the tears from his eyes and caresses Ryo's cheek, his heart filled with profound grief.

There's nothing he wouldn't give to bring her back to life, to hear her voice and feel her tender touch, yet he knows that this is not possible. The guilt of not having done more to save her is eating him up inside, and his heart feels as if it's been torn in half.

The loss of the woman he loved hurts, and his grief is palpable.