#Numb pt 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeostinys · 2 months ago

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Cry For Me

Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, slight angst, PWP, Office!AU

Notes: Cheating (don’t do it yall. this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (wrap it up!!! do not try this irl, it is pure fantasy!), explicit language, dacryphilia kink, humiliation, degrading, power fixation, Hongjoong lowkey manipulates (but for the better ig lol)

Word Count: 13k (condensed some ideas to bring down the word count LOL)

Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

———————————————————————

As you stepped into your apartment, the night sky cast a deep blue glow through the windows, shimmering like a vast ocean. The warm glow of the sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the entryway and casting soft shadows on the walls. You paused for a moment, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room.

It was the fifth time this month that your boyfriend had canceled on you, and each time felt like another nail in the coffin of what once seemed like a blossoming romance. The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, making each step toward the kitchen feel more burdensome than the last.

With a determined resolve, you made your way to the fridge, the familiar chill greeting you as you opened the door. Your fingers closed around a half-filled bottle of wine, the label slightly crumpled from the many times it had been hastily put back. You pulled it out, and reached for a glass. You stare blankly as you poured the wine, watching as the dark liquid rose to the rim, glistening in the soft light. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, taking a few deep gulps, each swallow both comforting and numbing. As the warmth spread through you, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a familiar sensation that you had tried so hard to push away.

The memories of the past 2 years flooded back—Siwoo’s laughter, the shared moments that now felt like distant echoes. But lately, he had become a stranger, his warmth replaced by an impenetrable distance. You had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing gap, but each time ended in disappointment. Now, standing in your quiet apartment, you felt a profound sense of loss that had settled deep within you, leaving you feeling numb, as if you were merely going through the motions of life without truly living it.

You quickly wiped your tears away, the salty tracks on your cheeks feeling foreign yet familiar. With each brush of your fingers, the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm you twisted into something sharper—anger.

*Ding.*

The sudden sound pulled your attention away from your thoughts. You turned your head toward your phone, its screen lighting up with a notification. The sight of Siwoo's name, accompanied by a little heart, made your heart sink further.

Siwoo <3: I’m sorry I cancelled again. Please don’t hate me. I’ll see you on your lunch tomorrow.

You stared at the message, the words blurring momentarily as your vision wavered. Another empty promise. With a shaky hand, you raised your glass to your lips, the bitter taste of the wine filling your mouth as you took another long gulp. It was a poor substitute for the warmth you once felt from Siwoo's presence.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond—not now. You needed a few moments to gather your swirling emotions, to avoid lashing out with the hurt and anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The silence of the apartment enveloped you, amplifying your racing thoughts and making the weight of his message all the more suffocating.

Once you finished the rest of the wine bottle, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction. You turned away from your phone, not wanting to see another message or another reminder of the chasm that seemed to grow between you. With heavy steps, you made your way to the bedroom.

You plopped down onto the bed, the soft sheets cradling you in their embrace. As your body sank into the mattress, fatigue overtook you, pulling you into a deep slumber. In the quiet darkness, you hoped for dreams that could somehow soothe the ache in your heart, if only for a little while.

———

The next day dawned with a muted light filtering through the curtains, the world outside still waking up. You rolled over, disoriented for a moment, before the reality of the day ahead crashed over you. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the remnants of last night’s indulgence weighing heavily in your mind.

As you shuffled to the bathroom, the headache from downing that last glass of wine throbbed at your temples, a persistent reminder of your restless night. You cursed under your breath, regretting the decision to finish the bottle in a moment of vulnerability.

You quickly went through the motions of your morning routine. Your job as the secretary for one of the most well-known CEOs in the Creative Arts Institution required precision and poise, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that had kept you up late. You dressed in a tailored blouse and a pencil skirt, the fabric smoothing against your skin as you adjusted the collar. The mirror reflected a professional exterior, yet you felt anything but composed inside.

After applying a touch of makeup to mask the fatigue in your eyes, you gathered your things—laptop, planner, and the ever-essential cup of coffee that awaited you in the kitchen.

———

As you step into the tall building, the morning sun filters through the glass façade, casting geometric shadows across the polished marble lobby. The familiar bustle of your colleagues greets you, their voices merging with the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. You nod and smile as you greet in response. You make your way to the elevator, its silver doors glinting in the light. Pressing the button for the top floor, you mentally prepare for the day ahead, trying not to show your exhausted emotions, mentally and physically. When the doors slide open, you step into the expansive hallway lined with art. At the end of the corridor, you enter the grand office door. You walk to the enormous desk adorned with a gold plaque that reads “CEO Kim Hongjoong” and set down the iced Americano you picked up on your way in. You reach into your tote bag and retrieve a neatly organized file folder. Flipping it open, you scan through today’s itinerary, noting the key meetings and tasks that lie ahead. Once satisfied with your briefing, you close the folder and return it to your bag. You head to the front desk positioned just outside the CEO's office, and begin your morning tasks. Every day in the office has settled into a rhythm, a familiar routine that feels almost automatic.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” “Hello, Mr. Kim!” The greetings echo as your colleagues bow slightly, their respect palpable.

You rise from your chair, straightening your blouse, and offer a nonchalant nod, masking the exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you say as you bow, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Hongjoong approaches, his expression warm yet focused.

“Hello, Y/N. Have you prepared everything for today’s schedule?” he asks, moving past you toward his office.

“Yes, you have a meeting in an hour with a client…” you begin to relay the itinerary, following him inside. He settles into his chair, taking a sip of the Americano and nods in response.

“Also, I dealt with the complaints from the last exhibition. Everything’s been taken care of, just like you wanted,” you add, your tone casual, though the weight of your own issues tugs at your thoughts. Hongjoong looks up, a smile breaking across his face.

“That’s why I have you as my secretary, Miss Y/N. Thank you so much.”

You nod, the compliment momentarily brightening your mood, but it’s fleeting. You bow again before slipping out of the office. As the door closes behind you, you take a deep breath, pushing the worries from your relationship to the back of your mind, ready to tackle the day ahead with practiced indifference.

Throughout the morning, you flit in and out of meetings, accompanying Hongjoong as he navigates a flurry of tasks. The office is a hive of activity, and you move seamlessly between conversations, taking notes and organizing files, but the weight of your personal life hangs heavy in the back of your mind.

You glance at the clock on your desk: just thirty minutes until your hour break. A sigh escapes your lips, and you reach for your phone, hesitating. Siwoo’s message sits unread, a lingering question mark in your thoughts. You know you should respond, but the uncertainty of his invitation makes you hesitate. Is it pettiness that keeps you from reaching out, or a defense mechanism to shield your heart from further pain? You shake off the intrusive thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand.

*Ding.* Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s another message from Siwoo.

Siwoo <3: I won’t be able to make it today. Something came up at work. Sorry.

You scoff under your breath, a bitter taste filling your mouth. His absence stings, but you’ve braced yourself for this—after all, it’s become a pattern.

Just then, Hongjoong’s voice crackles through the telephone intercom on your desk, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. “Miss Y/N, please come to my office.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, rising from your seat with a practiced smile as you make your way into his office.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?” you ask, your tone polite, carefully masking the frustration beneath the surface from Siwoo’s message.

Hongjoong leans back in his chair, his expression serious.

“I know you have your hour break in twenty minutes, but I just got off the phone with a potential client. They want to meet over lunch in a few minutes, and I need you to tag along to take notes. If you can wait on your break for another hour, I’ll cover your meal if you accompany me now.”

His words feel more like an instruction than a request, and you nod in response, pushing your personal frustrations aside.

“Of course, sir. Shall I call the chauffeur now?”

“No need,” he replies, grabbing his briefcase. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll drive.”

You nod and follow Hongjoong out of the building.

You settled into the passenger seat next to Hongjoong, the sleek interior of the car enveloping you. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal punctuated the silence, while the soft murmur of the news on the radio served as a gentle backdrop.

“Miss Y/N, is everything alright?” Hongjoong's voice cut through the quiet, steady and attentive. You turned to him, slightly taken aback by his directness.

“Y-Yes, sir. What makes you concerned?” you replied, a hint of surprise coloring your voice. His eyes remained fixed on the road, focused yet perceptive.

“My top employee—my secretary—has been unusually quiet lately. You seem a bit off,” he remarked, expertly navigating the car into a parking lot. His concern was genuine, and you felt a flutter of warmth at his attention.

“I apologize if I gave that impression today, sir. I assure you, I’m alright,” you replied, straightening in your seat, trying to project confidence. Hongjoong parked the car and turned to face you, his expression serious.

“Y/N, I’m not just talking about today. You’ve been like this for a few days now. I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, please let me know. You never slack off—well, not that I’ve noticed—but you’re a vital part of our team. If you’re not at your best, it affects us all, especially me. Let’s tackle any issues together, professionally.” His words carried a weight of understanding that took you by surprise.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.

“I… I apologize, sir. It’s just some personal issues in my relationship. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my work,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. You feared that honesty might blur the lines of your professional relationship.

Hongjoong regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his brow slightly furrowing. “Problems in your relationship?” he asked gently. You nodded, keeping your head bowed.

“Yes. I appreciate you asking,” you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude mixed with apprehension.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual professional demeanor. “Let’s get to work.”

The next hour unfolded at a high-end restaurant, its luxurious ambiance creating the perfect setting for a business meeting. You sat next to Hongjoong, across from two potential clients, the atmosphere charged with opportunity. As they discussed plans for an upcoming exhibition, you diligently took notes, your mind sharpening as you transitioned into your role.

Hongjoong exuded charisma, ordering champagne and an array of exquisite appetizers while skillfully guiding the conversation. You admired the way he balanced authority with approachability, creating an atmosphere of collaboration.

———

As promised, Hongjoong granted you your hour break once you both returned to the office. The day had been packed with meetings and conversations, but you had already eaten at the restaurant, so instead of lingering in the bustling atmosphere of the office, you decided to find solace on the rooftop.

Ascending to the rooftop, you pushed open the heavy door, the cool air hitting your face like a refreshing wave. You walked over to one of the bistro tables, the metal surface gleaming under the midday sun. You sank into one of the chairs, letting out a deep sigh that released the pent-up stress from the morning. In your left hand, you cradled an iced Americano to keep you alert. In your right, you held your phone, its screen illuminating your face as you contemplated the text messages from Siwoo.

He should be off work by now, you thought, scrolling through the thread of messages. You hesitated, biting your lip, unsure of how to approach him. The uncertainty had lingered in your mind for days, and it felt like a weight on your chest. After a moment’s deliberation, you resolved to take initiative and give him a call.

You tapped his name, and set the phone on speaker. As the phone rang, the sound echoed in the serene space around you. It rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, you heard his voice on the other end, slightly breathless.

“H-hello? Y/N?” Siwoo stuttered, his tone hesitant.

“Siwoo, what are you doing?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your heart raced with anticipation.

“Mmm, n-nothing much, just working out. I-I went to the gym after work,” he replied, punctuating his words with a grunt that surprised you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Since when did he ever work out?

You decided to push forward, hoping to reconnect. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’ll make dinner,” you offered, softening your voice as if trying to coax him back into your world.

“A-ahh, probably not tonight. I have to finish some work at h-home,” he stuttered again, his voice strained, as though he were struggling for breath.

Disappointment settled in your stomach, but you pressed on. “I can come over then, yeah? I’ll make you your favorite dish?” You mentally kicked yourself for even suggesting it, a flicker of doubt reminding you of all the times he had flaked out before.

“N-no, Y/N. I-It’s okay. A-ahh!” Siwoo grunted loudly, and a chill ran through you at the sound.

“Siwoo, what’s going on?!” You raised your voice slightly, urgency creeping in.

“I told you, Y/N. I’m working out. We can’t see each other tonight; I’m busy. I have to go,” he snapped, the finality in his tone cutting through the air like a knife. The line went dead, leaving you with only the echo of his voice. Your heart sank, a familiar ache running within you.

You stared at the phone in disbelief, the cool metal suddenly feeling heavy in your hand. How could he do this again? A mix of frustration and sadness swirled in your chest, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it did little to quell the rising tide of emotions.

——

You glance at the small digits on your screen, the glowing numbers reading 8:00 PM. Your shift officially ended thirty minutes ago, but here you sat, a blend of dedication and denial keeping you tethered to your desk. Guilt washed over you, a stark reminder of Hongjoong’s earlier words. There was no point in heading home, not when the weight of unfinished tasks bore down on you. The quiet of your apartment would only invite sorrow, while the office, though nearly deserted, offered a comforting distraction.

The atmosphere had shifted; the energy of the day had given way to silence as colleagues trickled out, exchanging soft goodbyes. Each farewell came with a gentle reminder not to work too hard, and you managed a smile, masking the turmoil brewing inside you. Once they departed, you returned your focus to the glowing screen, rifling through files and diligently noting necessary information, your fingers a blur over the keyboard.

A flicker of light caught your eye—a warm streaming light from Hongjoong’s office. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity; you’d assumed he had left an hour ago. Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to wander, you turned back to your work.

“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice broke through your concentration. You looked up at him through your rectangular glasses that rested on your face. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and a black vest that accentuated his shoulders.(What the fuck Y/N; he’s your boss.) You mentally scolded yourself, attempting to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.

“O-Oh, yes sir?” you replied, setting your pen down on the desk.

“Your shift ended an hour ago. Why are you still here?” His brow arched in genuine curiosity, his tone both commanding and concerned.

“I’m just catching up on some work, sir. I apologize. I’ll be heading home soon,” you replied, striving for composure even as nerves danced in your stomach.

“Y/N, come to my office,” he said, his calm demeanor masking the authority in his request. You hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. Why did he want to speak in private, especially when the office was nearly empty?

Despite your reservations, you take off your glasses frames, place them on your desk and follow him into his office. The door clicking shut behind you, a sound that felt like a declaration. The dim light cast long shadows, enveloping the room. He sits at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.

“What’s going on in your relationship?” Hongjoong asked, his tone direct yet oddly informal. The question hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your eyes widened, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck.

“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about personal matters at work…” you managed to reply, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you avoided his gaze.

“It’s after work hours, Y/N. You can speak comfortably,” he said, his voice calm and soothing, yet imbued with a sharpness that conveyed he was not one to be easily dismissed. “I can tell something is wrong.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to formulate a response. A swirl of emotions crashed over you—fear of crossing professional boundaries mixed with the realization that perhaps he genuinely wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Colleagues had often joked about how you and Hongjoong were like a married couple at work, a notion you had always brushed aside. The title felt cliché, almost childish, and you had preferred to maintain a strictly professional atmosphere.

But as you looked at him, a flicker of understanding passed between you. Maybe he wasn’t just playing the role of the CEO tonight. Perhaps he truly wanted to understand what you were going through. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you considered opening up.

“We have… just been distant lately,” you say hesitantly, the words slipping out with reluctance. “Our schedules don’t seem to be aligning, and our communication is off. That is all, sir.” You glance at him, searching for a response.

He hums thoughtfully, nodding in acknowledgment. “Shall I… cut your hours? Maybe find a second secretary to fill in while you get to spend more time with your significant other?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“N-no, sir!” The words escaped your lips almost too hastily, an instinctive reaction that made you feel slightly embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckled, his head lowering momentarily before he lifted it again, locking eyes with you.

“So, is it his schedule that’s not cooperating with yours?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded in silence, the weight of your emotions pressing down as you considered the truth behind your answer.

“Mm… interesting.” Hongjoong tapped his chin thoughtfully, the wheels of his mind clearly turning. Curiosity prickled at you; what was going through his head? You couldn’t help but wonder about the direction this conversation was taking.

“Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what does your partner do for a living?” he asked, his tone calm and inviting.

“He’s a professor at the university located downtown,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.

“A professor?” Hongjoong mused, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone. “I doubt their schedules are that busy compared to yours—a full-time secretary for a well-known company.” He dropped his hands into his pockets, his gaze intent and probing.

“Are you sure you should be concerned about his schedule? Maybe… it’s something more?” Hongjoong added nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the seriousness of his implication.

You felt a wave of confusion wash over you. What was he suggesting? Your mind raced, trying to decipher his words. Was he implying that the distance in your relationship could be rooted in something deeper than just busy schedules? The thought unsettled you, but a part of you was intrigued by his concern. You hesitated, caught in a web of uncertainty as you considered how to respond.

“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir…” you murmured, your gaze dropping to your black heels, the polished tips reflecting the dim light of the office.

“Come here, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice a blend of softness and authority that sent a shiver down your spine. Almost instinctively, you found your feet moving toward him, the rhythmic click of your pumps echoing softly against the floor as you approached. You stopped just in front of his black loafers, your heart racing in your chest.

“Closer,” he instructed, his voice lowering, deepening with an intensity that made you catch your breath. You stepped forward, positioning yourself between his slightly parted legs, the air thick with unspoken tension.

His hand reached out, a gentle yet firm grasp settling on your waist. You gasped in shock, the unexpected warmth of his touch flooding through you. This is wrong, you thought, panic stirring within, but something deeper held you in place, a pull that made it difficult to consider pulling away. Instead, you stood there, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Maybe…” Hongjoong began, his thumb rubbing softly against the fabric of your blouse, the gentle motion both soothing and unsettling.

“your partner is being unfaithful…?” The words hung heavy in the air, a sentence that felt like a blade slicing through your gut.

A part of you recoiled at the thought, refusing to believe it. Yet, as you stood there, something nagged at you, a whisper of doubt that you couldn’t shake. The realization that he might be right crept in like a shadow, darkening your thoughts. Stupidly, your heart leaped to defend Siwoo, the man you cared for, even as uncertainty gnawed at you.

“Mr. Kim, I don’t appreciate you assuming that,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared between the gap of Hongjoong’s legs that revealed the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You don’t know our relationship, so please do not accuse him of such acts…” you added, your tone a fragile mixture of firmness and vulnerability. As the words left your lips, you felt your eyes begin to well with tears, confusion and anger swirling within you. You trusted Siwoo; you had to. But the doubts Hongjoong had planted took root, and you didn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this.

You wanted to leave, to escape the charged atmosphere and the unsettling intimacy of the moment, but your feet remained stuck to the floor. Deep down, beneath the rising tide of panic, you recognized that you craved the odd comfort Hongjoong provided, a warmth that felt so different from the turmoil in your heart.

Suddenly, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that surprised you as tears began to cascade down your cheeks, dropping onto Hongjoong’s lap.

“Oh, baby…” Hongjoong cooed, his voice laced with a tenderness. You gasped at the sudden pet name. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his unoccupied hand reached toward your face, lifting your chin slightly so that he could wipe away the tears that streamed relentlessly down. Your eyes however, still refusing to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your heart raced at the intimacy of the moment.

“You defend him, yet you’re crying,” he observed, his voice low and soothing, but his words only added to the turmoil within you. It was as if he could see right through the facade you had tried to maintain. As his hand, previously resting on your waist, moved to the other side of your face, you felt the weight of his palms cupping your cheeks, an act of reassurance that both calmed and stirred your emotions.

“Look at me, Y/N” Hongjoong softly demands. Your pretty eyes look at him. Sparkling from the tears that are still streaming down your face slowly. Hongjoong bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure, though he couldn’t help but think how fucken pretty you look when you cried… how vulnerable.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he continued, his tone tender yet firm. “It was unprofessional of me. I was just trying to express my concerns.” His fingers brushed against your skin as he gently cupped your face, his thumbs softly stroking away the remnants of your tears. “I don’t want to see you cry anymore, okay?”

Confusion swirled within you, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. What was Hongjoong doing? His touch sent conflicting signals through your mind, making it hard to decipher the intentions behind his kindness. You felt your heart race as he held your gaze, searching for answers that remained elusive.

“Let me take you home. It’s getting late.” He reluctantly withdrew his hands, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Hongjoong lightly tapped your waist,

“Okay?” he asked again, his voice softening as he sought your approval. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes, those doe-like orbs filled with an innocence that belied the complexities of your situation. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching out as you found solace in his presence, even amidst the confusion.

———

The car glided smoothly along the quiet streets, the only sounds breaking the stillness were the gentle notes floating from the radio and the rhythmic tapping of Hongjoong’s fingers on the steering wheel. Each beat resonated with the unspoken tension lingering between you, a subtle backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind.

As the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, you felt a mix of relief and reluctance. The evening air was cool against your skin as you unbuckled your seatbelt and gathered your bags, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. It was a gesture of politeness, but it felt more like a shield, protecting you from the warmth of his soft smile that you could sense even without looking.

“No worries, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you Monday,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with an unshakeable confidence. You heard the warmth in his tone, even as you turned away and walked towards the entrance of your apartment building, his farewell echoing in your ears.

The elevator ride felt interminable as you ascended to your floor, each ding of the buttons amplifying the heaviness in your chest. Finally, you stepped into your small apartment, the familiar space offering little comfort. You dragged your feet toward your room, exhaustion pulling you down, both physically and emotionally.

Once inside, you kicked off your heels, the sharp clack against the floor a welcome relief. You stripped off your clothes with a mindless haste, leaving only your undergarments as you collapsed onto your bed. The cool sheets enveloped you, but they couldn’t ease the confusion swirling in your thoughts.

With a deep, resigned sigh, you sank into the mattress, your mind replaying fragments of your conversation with Hongjoong.

In a moment of desperation, you reached for your phone, dialing Siwoo’s number. The ringing felt like an eternity, and when it went to voicemail, a knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at the clock—10 PM. Another attempt led to the same unyielding voicemail. Frustration filled within you, mixing with a pang of anxiety that settled in your chest.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The coolness of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of your thoughts. Slowly, memories of Hongjoong flooded your mind—his perfect figure leaning casually against the desk, his strong hand lingering on your arm, the gentle caress of his fingers against your face.

Your heart ached, not for Siwoo, but for Hongjoong. You suddenly craved his comforting and reassuring voice. His lingering touch on your skin. Your legs close together as you feel a wave of warmth between your thighs. Your hands moved down your soft skin, reaching towards your heat…

You gasp softly, shaking your head, trying to dismiss these feelings. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hongjoong is your Boss. And plus you have Siwoo. Your… loving boyfriend.

The weight of silence wraps around you like a thick fog, pressing down on your chest as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. You can’t shake the feeling that these spiraling thoughts. In frustration you convince yourself that you’re probably just deprived of touch from your significant other.

With sudden resolve, you push yourself up from the tangled sheets, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine, and head towards the bathroom. Turning on the water, you let your thoughts drown in the hot water. Making your way back to your room, you slowly dry off and change into pajamas.

As your head hits the pillow, a sense of calm envelops you, pulling you into a deep slumber. The world outside fades, and for the first time in ages, you allow yourself to drift away, hoping that tomorrow will bring a spark of connection back into your life.

———

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your home office. You’re working from home today, since Hongjoong isn’t in office on the weekends. You sat your desk with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, you let the aroma fill your senses, the rich, dark liquid fueling your focus as your fingers typing across the keyboard.

The rhythmic sound of your typing created a serene atmosphere until it was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the apartment door.

Setting your coffee down, you pushed back your chair and stood, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, you swung it open, and your heart dropped. Standing there, looking both sheepish and regretful, was Siwoo, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry for flaking out on you so many times,” he said with a fake pout.

A year ago, you would have melted at this display. You might have accepted his half-assed apology with a smile, the flowers a token of his remorse. But today, your mind raced with reminders of all the times he had done this before. The constant stand-ups, the empty promises, the fleeting moments of connection overshadowed by disappointment.

Your heart ached, not with the sweet pang of love but with the heavy weight of frustration. You stood there, staring at him, emotions swirling within you like a storm. Hurt and upset battled against the tenderness that still lingered for him. You could feel the walls you had carefully built in the past months tightening around you, whispering that this was a cycle you were tired of repeating.

But your heart, foolishly hopeful, betrayed you. Before you could think it through, you found yourself reaching for the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh blooms. Then, without a second thought, you pulled him into a tight embrace. As his arms wrapped around you, the familiar warmth flooded back, and you felt your resolve waver.

In that moment, you wanted to believe that this time would be different. Yet beneath the surface, a deeper ache throbbed—a desperate question lingered in your mind: why do you keep doing this to me?

As the hours unfolded, Siwoo settled into a chair across from your desk, his laptop open and papers scattered around him. The familiar hum of shared work surrounded you, a scene that once brought you joy. He would glance up occasionally, flashing you a smile that was meant to soothe the tension in the air. Yet, despite the comforting proximity, your heart was locked in a battle against the memories of hurt he had inflicted upon you.

You tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. Still, they lingered like unwelcome shadows, flitting in and out of your consciousness. Each time Siwoo laughed at something on his screen or leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a part of you wanted to bask in the moment, to let yourself feel the happiness he once brought. But the other part—a weary, wiser part—reminded you of the countless times he had let you down.

Your mind already flooded with so many issues, decided to remind you of last night’s conversation with Hongjoong—the way he spoke to you, his touch… The longing for deeper connections hung heavily on your mind, teasing you with confusion.

You caught Siwoo watching you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking through your reverie.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”

———

Throughout the day, with Siwoo at your side, a disquieting realization settled in your chest: you felt less like his girlfriend and more like a maid. He moved to lounge in your living room, casually asking for snacks and drinks while you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on your work. Each request chipped away at your patience, drawing a line between the intimate moments you once cherished and the mundane reality of this interaction.

Glancing over, you caught sight of him: relaxed, almost carefree, tapping away on his phone with a soft laugh escaping his lips. Maybe it was Hongjoong’s words playing tricks on you, but a knot twisted in your stomach as you watched Siwoo, feeling an unfamiliar ick wash over you. It felt as though he was taking advantage of your hospitality, oblivious to the growing frustration bubbling within you.

“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow some money?” Siwoo asked, his voice casual, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to chuckle at whatever amused him.

“May I ask why?” You replied softly, a frown creasing your brow as confusion settled in.

“I need to buy new materials for work. It’s required for all professors, and I’m just short by a few bucks,” he explained, his gaze still firmly fixed on his phone.

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Doesn’t the university cover materials for professors?”

“Mmm, not this time. Please?” he said, finally looking up at you, his irritating smile brightening his face as if he expected you to fold under the charm.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the tension in your chest tighten, but you nodded anyway, wiring him a sum that was likely more than he needed. Maybe it was an act of guilt or an old habit of wanting to keep the peace.

“Thanks, honey. You’re the best!” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The grin on his face widened as he returned to his phone, engrossed once more in whatever had captured his attention.

“Y—you’re leaving so soon?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, a mix of desperation and disappointment. “I’m almost done with work. Let’s have dinner…”

He turned to you, his expression unchanged. “Maybe another day, Y/N. I have to head back to the campus.”

With that, he walked out without a backward glance, leaving you standing there, a swirl of emotions crashing against one another. As the door clicked shut, the weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart, mingling with the irritation that had been building all day.

——

The weekend slipped away in a blur, its fleeting hours vanishing like sand through fingers. As you stepped into the office on Monday morning, you glanced around the workspace, filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the faint rustle of papers, and realized you wanted to be here. The thought of Hongjoong entered your mind unbidden. You couldn’t help but remember the conversations that had left you feeling confused but wanting more.

But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, chastising yourself. This wasn’t the time for daydreams. You were his secretary, bound by professional decorum. It was crucial to maintain composure, to focus on your tasks and responsibilities. After all, any semblance of personal feelings could only complicate matters.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing slightly from your desk as he entered his office, and you follow behind him. The air felt charged with unspoken tension, a remnant of the incident that had unfolded just days prior, a moment you both seemed to ignore.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Hongjoong replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he settled into his chair behind the desk. His eyes flickered momentarily to the iced Americano you had picked up for him earlier, the cool condensation glistening against the glass.

“What is the schedule for today?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, but you could sense the sharpness in his gaze as it remained fixed on you.

Clearing your throat, you began to relay the day’s itinerary, focusing intently on your notes. “We have the marketing meeting at ten, followed by the conference call with the investors at noon.” You spoke steadily, but your heart raced, memories of that night creeping back into your mind—a fleeting brush of his hands, the way his gaze had pierced through the façade of professionalism.

Hongjoong listened, nodding occasionally, but there was an air of distraction about him, too. He was acting as if nothing had happened, and you were determined to do the same, though it felt like walking a tightrope. You maintained your composure, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and professional as you continued.

His expression remained neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you. You stole a glance at him, noting how the light caught the edges of his features, the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him.

“And finally,” you added, pushing the memories further down, “we have a team meeting at four to discuss the new project timeline.”

As you finished, a heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of his drink being set down on the desk. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of the unacknowledged moment hanging in the air. “Thank you, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice smooth as he rose from his chair. The brief moment of gratitude hung in the air between you, creating a small, intimate space in an otherwise professional atmosphere. You bowed slightly in acknowledgment, the familiar gesture a part of your daily routine, before you turned on your heels, ready to leave the room.

“Wait a moment,” he called out just as you reached the door. You paused, your heart skipping a beat, then turned back to face him.

“Yes, sir?” you replied, your voice steady but your mind racing.

“How are you doing?” he asked, the question casual yet layered with an unexpected warmth. The simplicity of it took you aback, a small flicker of surprise igniting within you.

“I—I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.” You stumbled over your words slightly, an involuntary shyness creeping in. “How about you?” You returned the question out of politeness.

“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he replied, his soft smile breaking through the formalities and lighting up the room. “I’m doing fine as well.”

You nodded, the warmth of his expression lingering in the air as you took in the moment. “I’ll get back to my work then,” you said, turning once more to leave.

As you stepped out of his office, the door closing softly behind you, you made your way back to your desk, the echo of his words and that fleeting smile still resonating within you.

——

Once you stepped out of Hongjoong’s office, he sank back into his chair, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders as his thoughts turned inward, swirling around you. He couldn’t deny the fondness he felt. From the moment you had started working as his secretary, you had made it clear that you were in a serious relationship. He respected your loyalty, admired it even, but it didn’t erase the growing complexity of his own feelings for you.

As he gazed out the window, memories flooded back, particularly the recent lunch meeting on Friday. You had accompanied him at the last minute, and during the drive, when you admitted to him about your relationship struggles. The admission struck him deeply—he felt a flicker of triumph at your honesty, a selfish part of him celebrating. Yet, mingled with that spark was a simmering anger; the man you were with was clearly causing you distress.

After returning to the office, you took your promised hour break, and Hongjoong found himself drawn to the rooftop. He hadn’t intended to pry; he simply wanted to offer words of encouragement, to lift your spirits. But as he approached, he overheard your phone ring and the familiar cadence of your voice pick up the call. A sinking feeling took root in his stomach when he recognized the voice on the other end—Siwoo, your boyfriend.

He paused at the steel door, unable to resist the urge to listen. Siwoo’s breathless tone was unmistakable, the hurried speech revealing more than mere exertion from a workout. Hongjoong's heart raced as he deduced the truth— Any man would know, this was not the voice of a faithful partner. The realization struck him like a punch; this man had the audacity to take your call while clearly entangled in something inappropriate.

A rush of guilt washed over him as he retreated to his office, grappling with the anger that grew beneath the surface. How could someone hurt you, an innocent, kind, and beautiful person? He felt torn, wanting to protect you while recognizing the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.

In the hours that followed, a storm of thoughts brewed within him. It was reckless, perhaps, but the idea of bringing you into his office after hours began to take root. He wanted to voice his concerns casually. But when you began to softly cry, that’s when he felt the line blur. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your pretty doe-like eyes glistening with unshed tears— (fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like that).

Hongjoong pulled back from his reminiscent thoughts, deciding it was best to let you navigate this situation on your own. Maybe you would uncover the truth about Siwoo, perhaps the pieces would fall into place. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and as he sat in his office, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could contain his feelings, how much longer he could remain a silent observer to your heartache.

Fuck it? Hongjoong thought to himself. Siwoo deserves a taste of his own medicine.

Hongjoong scoffed to himself at his idea as he sipped on his coffee.

———

The workday unfolded in its usual rhythm, a blur of emails, calls, and the occasional paperwork that seemed to multiply by the hour. You navigated through the tasks with a practiced efficiency, though your mind occasionally drifted to the flurry of messages buzzing on your phone. Each notification from Siwoo felt like a weight pressing down on you, filled with meaningless apologies, and pleads to wire money for some other things, god knows what he needed it for.

With a deep breath, you made the decision to ignore his messages for now. You turned your focus back to your work, fingers typing over the keyboard, pouring your energy into the tasks at hand.

As you typed, the sound of footsteps drew your attention. You looked up to find Hongjoong standing before your desk, his presence commanding yet familiar. He had a way of drawing you in, and for a moment, the chaos of your personal life faded into the background.

“Miss Y/N, please come to my office after work hours,” he said, his tone smooth yet imbued with a seriousness that piqued your curiosity. He turned and strode into his office, leaving you with a flurry of thoughts.

“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him go.

With a sigh, you returned to your work, the clock ticking steadily toward the end of the day. Each keystroke felt heavier as the minutes dragged on, and the anticipation of your meeting with Hongjoong lingered like a sweet ache in your heart.

———

As the final colleagues trickled out of the building, the quiet hum of the office began to settle into an echo of solitude. You sighed as you recalled Hongjoong’s instructions. Straightening your buttoned blouse and smoothing down your skirt, you prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in his office.

You knocked softly, the sound barely breaking the silence.

“Come in,” Hongjoong’s voice resonated through the door. You opened it slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.

Hongjoong was seated at his desk, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms accentuated by a dark tie. The sight of him brought a swirl of emotions; he exuded an effortless charisma that both intimidated and drew you in.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said, your gaze fixed on the floor, an attempt to hide the mix of anxiety and curiosity swelling inside you.

“Yes, please come here, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm and low. As you approached him, the familiar sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor echoed in your mind, reminding you of the similar situation a few days ago in this very spot.

“Please, sit,” he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, positioning yourself at the edge, an instinctive reaction born from uncertainty.

Hongjoong rose from his chair and began to circle around the desk, a pen spinning effortlessly between his slender fingers. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, and it pulled your attention as you tried to read his expression.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, pausing for a moment, “you’re one of my smartest employees, correct?” His gaze remained focused elsewhere, a slight distance in his eyes.

“Th—thank you, sir. I—” you started, but his voice cut through your response.

“A person with an important job like yours requires a lot of skill, attentiveness… and have the ability assess the environment around the office, Correct?”

“Yes… that is correct, sir,” you replied quietly, maintaining eye contact,

“Would you agree that you have been lacking some of these skills, Y/N?” Hongjoong stopped infront of you, sitting at the edge of his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, revealing the strong veins that ran along his forearms, an unconscious display of his physicality that made your heart race.

“I—I haven’t noticed, sir. I apologize if I haven’t been performing well…” The words tumbled out, anxiety creeping in. Were you about to get fired? The thought sent a chill through you, and you mentally recoiled at the prospect of your life spiraling further down.

“I’m not going to fire you, Y/N,” he said, and your eyes widened in surprise; it was as if he had plucked the thought straight from your mind.

“I’m not really following this conversation, sir…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to fidget with your fingers in your lap, seeking any distraction from the mounting tension.

Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh, and suddenly he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, stepping toward you slowly. His strong arms landed on the armrests of your chair, effectively trapping you in place. He leaned in closer, the proximity forcing you to lean back into the seat, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden intimacy of the moment.

The air between you thickened. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the sharpness of his gaze holding you captive.

He scoffed, the corner of his lip turning into a smirk as he looked down. His eyes landed on the unbuttoned opening of your shirt. He sees your chest breathing up and down in anticipation. He looks up, gazes at your lips quickly before looking into your eyes.

“For someone so pretty and smart, you’re quite naive” He chuckles. A rush of heat seeps into your cheeks. You’re at a loss for words. You don’t know how to respond, so you opt to stay silent.

“Miss Y/N” Hongjoong says sternly in a soft voice.

“Yes, Sir?” You quietly reply back.

“Can you assess the environment in this office right now?” His voice is a whisper.

“U—Uhm…” you stutter, not knowing what to say. Hongjoong chuckles at your flustered expression.

“Let me give you a hint, Y/N” Hongjoong whispers and leans in closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm wave. Then, in a moment that felt both thrilling and terrifying, his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes widened in shock. This is wrong, a voice in your mind screamed. You shouldn’t be doing this. But as much as you tried to summon the strength to pull away, your body betrayed you.

His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle as they molded against yours, igniting a fire that swept through you. The worries around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in this unexpected moment. It felt as if time had stopped, your heartbeat loud in your ears, drowning out the rational thoughts that screamed for you to stop.

As he finally pulled away, the distance felt electric, charged with a lingering intimacy. His gaze searched yours, earnest and intense. “Do you understand now?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You nod slowly.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks softly as he looks at your plush lips. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. All you know is that you want whatever lingering feelings Hongjoong has bestowed on you. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t help but crave him.

In response to his question, You shake your head in protest. His thumb caresses your chin tilting your head to look up at him.

“Use your words baby.” Hongjoong’s voice is low as he stares into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Please… don’t stop sir.” You say quietly. Hongjoong smirks and pulls way from you. You look at him confused. His position is sat back onto the edge of his desk.

“Show me you want it too Y/N” He’s teasing you. Wanting to see how far you’re willing to go. Knowing that deep inside, as much as you want this you still feel a tiny ounce of guilt from being unfaithful to your partner. Regardless, You rise from the chair and make your way to Hongjoong. You position yourself between his legs that are slightly spread and place both your arms on his shoulders. You lean forward and kiss him. Hongjoong returns the kiss almost immediately. He can feel himself already growing hard as his lips move against yours. His hands are securely gripped onto your waist bringing you closer to him. He deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue over the bottom of your lip. In response your mouth opens as you release a whimper. Both of your tongues now move together skillfully, resulting in a moan from both of you. As the heated make-out session continues, you notice Hongjoong’s arm pushing away some papers and other items on the desk behind him.

Smoothly, Hongjoong moves your position, his strong arms swiftly carry your body onto the desk. You are now sat on top of the cold wood, arms wrapped around his neck, as he continued to devour your lips. You slightly pull back in attempt to catch your breath. You’re a panting mess, and so is he. Hongjoong however doesn’t want to stop. He pecks your lips, before leaving a trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your soft cheek, and finally to your slender neck. Shivers were sent throughout your body as Hongjoong left soft warm kisses on your neck.

“A—ah Sir…” you whimpered quietly. Hongjoong hummed in response as he began to leave opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, your skirt already slightly hiked up from him placing you on the desk moments ago. Revealing your exposed thighs, Hongjoong’s hands moved from knees, and traveled up your soft plush thighs, causing you to close them in an instinct, but his strong arms prevent you, keeping them open.

His lips trails up to your ear nibbles on your lobe before whispering softly, “I want you to say my name okay?” You nod in response.

His hands moved dangerously closer to your heat that was radiating from your exposed thighs, but he stops, he was teasing you. His hands caressed your inner thighs, not daring to move closer as he continued to kiss your neck and face. His lips found his way back to yours and takes it in softly.

You whimper against his mouth and he slowly pulls away.

“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is so soft, sending another heat wave down your body.

“Please… touch me, sir” you say sheepishly.

“I told you Y/N, I want you to say my name.” Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs tighten, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.

“H—Hongjoong…” your soft, angelic voice echoed in his ears as his name rolled off your tongue.

“Yeah baby?” He tries to hold back a groan, already so turned on by you calling his name.

“Hongjoong, touch me… please?” You plead with your doe eyes staring at him. Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your pretty, desperate face.

“Fuck, Y/N… you make me do stupid shit” He curses under his breath before devouring your lips once again.

This time, his hands finally touch your warm clothed pussy. You moan at his touch. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, creating a friction against the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck tighter. Moaning into his lips as he continues to rub you.

Unexpectedly, tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. Not in pain, not in discomfort, but in a frustrating pleasure.

“Hong—j-joong, stop teasing please” You whimper as he slightly pulls away. He looks at your face, tears slowly falling down. He smirks, “Mm such a dirty brat, crying for me…” He degrades you in a low tone.

His hands find the hem of your underwear, and he skillfully pulls them down. They rest at the ankles of your legs, stopped by your heels that restricted them from falling to the floor. Hongjoong’s left arm cradles your back, as his right hand pushes up your skirt more to reveal your bare wet pussy.

“Fuck… so wet already just from me kissing you, and barely touching you?” He teases you, even though he too is already so rock hard in his slacks, from just kissing and touching you.

His hand makes his way to your clit. The soft bud of his middle and ring finger gently rubs circles, causing you to hold back a moan. Skillfully, his fingers dip down to your entrance, not fully going inside you, just enough to collect your wet fluids, and bring them back up to your clit. He rubs it again, slowly picking up the pace.

Your right hand drops behind you as it land on the desk, supporting your weight. You slightly throw your head back and cover your mouth with your unoccupied arm trying to hide your moans.

“Let me fucken hear you moan baby. No one is here. Just you and me” Hongjoong groans in your ear. His voice turned you on so much, resulting in a soft moan slipping from your lips.

Hongjoong’s fingers make their way to your entrance. Slipping in your tight folds. You gasp and grab onto his shoulder. He pumps his fingers slowly, as he studies your facial expressions. Your eyes are sparkling from the previous tears you shed. Your glossy lips slightly parted as you released soft moans.

“So fucken pretty” Hongjoong moans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. The gentle gesture, mixed with his lewd actions makes your stomach turn in a good way. He begins to pick up the pace. The office room is silent, with only the sounds of your mixed moans, pants, and the wetness of your folds fapping against Hongjoong’s hand.

Your mind begins to get fuzzy as you feel an orgasm near by. Hongjoong feels your pussy tighten around his digits, he chuckles before he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You whine in protest, frustration builds up in you, you were so close. Your arm around his neck tugs him closer, reaching for his lips, wanting to feel some sort of physical contact. But he pulls away from you. Completely. He steps back and looks at your figure.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, an unsettling knot tightening in your stomach. Why did he stop? Just moments ago, the air had felt charged with lust, and now it hung heavy with an unspoken tension. A flood of negative thoughts surged through your mind, drowning out any remnants of clarity. Embarrassment crept in, a heat rising to your cheeks, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Guilt wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, its weight almost suffocating. You could feel the sting of tears pooling in your eyes, the familiar ache of despair threatening to spill over. In a swift, instinctive motion, you cast your gaze downward, as if to shield yourself from the world around you. Your heart raced as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.

Hongjoong watches you as you softly cry. He tries not to loose his composure. The cute look of confusion on your face makes him feral.

“Aww baby… why are you crying hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy. He tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your flushed face. You can’t find yourself to respond, only sniffles and soft whimpers can be heard.

“You know… to be completely honest Y/N…” the sound of Hongjoong’s belt unbuckling fills the air. You glance at him with your doe eyes.

“When I told you… I don’t want to see you cry anymore…” He slings his belt off his pants and drops it to the floor. His hands moving towards the button of his slacks. He shifts towards your body, and leans close to your face.

“I actually meant… I don’t want to see you cry for anyone else but me.” Your eyes widen at his statement. He chuckles at your expression and grabs your hands. He brings them towards his hard mound covered by the soft fabric of his pants.

“You look so fucken pretty when you cry. It turns me on so much. Knowing that you feel so good, you can’t help but shed a few tears” He moans as you begin to instinctively rub your hands on his huge hard on.

“Help me out baby. Be a good girl” Hongjoong whispers to you, and you nod. He smiles at your response. You make your way off the desk, and position yourself on your knees. You slowly unzip Hongjoong’s pants and pull them down along with his trousers. His hard, long cock springs out and softly hits your face. You gasp at the sudden sight. Earning a chuckle from him.

“Open your mouth.” He demands softly. Your lips part, tongue slightly sticking out, as you take Hongjoong’s length in. He releases a loud groan. Cursing under his breath as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down. You twirl your tongue a few times over his tip, causing him to tightly grip onto your soft hair.

“F—Fuck baby…” Hongjoong throws his head back.

“… damn, your boyfriend is this lucky and can’t even fucken appreciate you” You freeze at the sudden statement, and Hongjoong smirks as he scoffs. In response, he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You moan on his cock as he begins to shove himself deeper into your mouth. You tap Hongjoong’s leg, and he pulls you off him instantly. You gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to his cock, as you begin to cough. Hongjoong chuckles, caressing your hair.

“Stand up” He demands. And in an instant you’re on your feet. Hongjoong swiftly lifts you up and places you back onto the desk. His hands are hastily unbuttoning your blouse as he kisses your lips. You moan, furrowing your brows, still thinking about the humiliating statement Hongjoong said. Something about his touch is so intoxicating, making you want more. Making you not care about anything in your reality.

As Hongjoong releases the last button on your blouse, he quickly pushes your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra filled by your perfect plush breasts. His hands grace over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses the exposed skin of your breast. His hands moving towards the straps, as he pulls them off. He reaches behind you and skillfully releases the clasps of your bra. The black lace drops swiftly revealing your perfect boobs.

“So fucken perfect for me baby.” Hongjoong whispers as he gropes them with his hands. You moan at his touch. He takes one in his mouth and laps at your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“H—Hongjoong” you moan his name, he hums in response, still working on your breasts.

“Want.. m—more” you stutter under his touch.

He pulls away from you and pants, trying to calm himself down.

“Want more what?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. You pout, too embarrassed to verbally say what you want from him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll leave you here” Hongjoong threatens as he begins to pump himself, already knowing what you want. But he still wants to hear the words from your mouth.

“I want… you inside me… please?” You whimper in embarrassment. You look at him and you see a spark of excitement in his eyes as he smirks at you.

“Atta girl. Wasn’t so hard to say right?” He teases you as he brings himself closer to your pussy. Your breath increases as he places his tip right at the entrance. He only inserts his head before pulling out, repeating the gesture a few times. You whine as a tear falls from your eyes.

“Quit being a fucken brat” Hongjoong hisses at you bringing a gentle hand to your face as he wipes the tear away. Finally, He pushes his whole length inside you, earning a loud yelp from you. His cock instantly hits your sensitive spot and you cling onto his arms. He pauses inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. You’re definitely not used to his large length and thick girth, he’s stretching you out so good.

“Damn baby, you’re so tight? Your boyfriend isn’t big enough huh?” Hongjoong snickers at you. You whine at the sudden mention of your boyfriend again. It’s like he wants to remind you of him on purpose. To humiliate you. Hongjoong begins a slow pace inside you. Grunting as he moves against you.

“Answer me…” he demands, his hand cups your chin to force your gaze on him.

“H—he isn’t big enough. Y—you’re bigger Hongjoong…” You moan as he thrusts deeper.

“You… make me feel s—so good” You close your eyes as you take in the pleasure running through your body. Hongjoong manically smiles. Ecstatic at your response.

“Yeah?” He teases. Picking up his pace. The sound of your sweet moans heighten, the wet sounds of you two slapping against each other fill the room along with Hongjoong’s dirty words.

“Bet you, he doesn’t fuck you this good huh? Look at you. A fucken mess on my cock.”

“N-no! He doesn’t.” You whine, another wave of tears begin to fall from your eyes. The overstimulation of Hongjoong pumping into you along with his degrading words overwhelms you. You don’t want to admit it, but you fucken love this. Your body is enjoying every fucken moment of this dirty, lewd affair.

“F-Fuucckk” Hongjoong moans loudly. “Look at me while you cry, baby. Let me see that pretty face” you listen to him without hesitation. Your eyes locking with his. You feel yourself closer to reaching your high. Until you’re both interrupted with a sudden ringing.

You both turn your heads to the chair you sat on when you first entered Hongjoong’s office. The sight of your bright phone screen illuminates the dim room.

*Siwoo <3 is Calling*

Your heart drops at the name. Anxiety suddenly filling your body, replacing the pleasure you felt before. Hongjoong notices and smirks at you. He reaches over and grabs your phone.

“Answer it.” He demands. You shake your head no.

“I said fucken answer it. Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don’t be a fucken brat now. Do you want me to stop?” Hongjoong’s words are harsh. You instantly shake your head in protest of him stopping.

“Then fucken answer it” Hongjoong shoves the phone towards you.

You hesitate as you grab the phone from his hands and click the green button. You bring the phone to your ear, but Hongjoong pulls your wrist, and clicks on the speaker button. He cocks his head at you, signaling you to continue,

“H-Hello? Siwoo?” You begin. Hongjoong resumes his pace. Fucking you in and out.

“Hey Honey. What are you doing?” Siwoo’s voice is calm, in contrast to what you’re feeling right now.

“A-Ah.. I’m j-just finishing up some w-work” You stutter as you try to keep your composure. Hongjoong makes it harder for you as he begins to lick your neck.

“You’re still at work?” Siwoo questions.

“M—mm, Yeah. Don’t worry. I—I’ll be home soon” You bite your lip trying to contain a moan.

“You okay Y/N? why do you keep stuttering?” Siwoo’s voices a concern.

“I—i’m okay. I-I just don’t feel too well. I think it’s a stomach tic” You bluff, trying to find an excuse.

“You don’t feel well? Shall I come pick you up from work-?” Siwoo suggests

“No!” You cut him off. You curse to yourself. Hongjoong smiles against a your neck and softly bites it as he continues fucking you senseless.

“Oh- okay then. Just be careful. take some medicine” You roll your eyes. (why the fuck does Siwoo decide to be sweet right now out of all days?) You mentally say to yourself.

“Y-yes I will…” You reply softly.

“Anyways, did you see my text? can you wire me some money?” Siwoo asks nonchalantly. You scoff, earning a vocalized chuckle from Hongjoong. Your eyes widen as you pull him closer to your neck, trying to muffle his laughter. You bite your lip, in hopes Siwoo didn’t hear anything.

“S—sorry, Siwoo. I don’t get paid till this Friday.” you manage to get out.

“Aww please? just a few bucks” Siwoo whines. In annoyance, you roll your eyes once again.

“Siwoo, I—I can’t. I have to go” You quickly hang up the call and throw your phone down. Hongjoong detaches from your neck and chuckles before attacking your lips. His pace begins to pick up. He holds onto your waist for support and you hold him closer. Hongjoong pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours.

“Does he take care of you? or do you take care of him?” He teases as he tries to hold back a laugh.

“S—Shut up” You moan in response. Hongjoong thrusts hard into you, earning a loud yelp from you.

“Someone’s suddenly mouthy?” Hongjoong’s hand grips onto your chin as he lightly taps your cheek.

“F—Fuck” You moan as he shoves himself inside you, with long and deep strokes.

Hongjoong then suddenly pulls out of you. Not wanting to waste any time, he lifts you off the desk and flips you over. Your front is pushed onto the cold wood, and he pulls your hips higher. Your forearms hoist yourself for support as you feel Hongjoong enter you once again. His hands grip under your skirt pushing them up towards your waist, giving him a perfect view of your ass. He mentally curses to himself as he watches your butt bounce on his cock at a constant pace. He brings his hand down to caress it before raising it and bringing it back down in a hard, but pleasurable slap. You yelp in response, eyes widen at the sudden contact.

“Such a fucken naughty girl. Fucking your boss, when you have a boyfriend” Hongjoong degrades you as his hand makes contact with your ass again. You whimper at the stinging sensation. Your tears fall onto the papers infront of you.

“Who fucks you better baby?” Hongjoong pants as his speed increases. “Me or Siwoo? Hm?” He asks again taking you in deeper.

“A—Ahhhh~ You, Hongjoong.” You sniffle your tears , “Hongjoong fucks me better!” You scream as his pace becomes sloppy. Hongjoong hears your crying whimpers and quickly turns you around to face him. Your body now lays flat on his desk as he pumps into you.

“Yeah? bet I can be better lover than him too” Hongjoong confesses as he smashes his lips onto yours. Your heart clenches at his statement. A sudden wave of orgasm hits you. Your pussy tightens around him as you come undone. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you release a loud moan. Your face buried in his chest, as he continues to fuck you and chase his high. Hongjoong’s thrust become sloppy, and quickly pulls out of you.

“Let me cum on your pretty face” He hastily demands. You quickly move towards his lower body and he pumps himself quickly on you. Hongjoong looks at your sparkly doe eyes, and bites his lips. His warm thick load releases into your face, along with a loud grunt from his mouth. You gasp as the feeling of the strings of cum landing on your soft skin. Your mouth instinctively opens,

“F—Fuckkk baby” Hongjoong hisses as he continues to pump more of his load onto your tongue.

The office room is filled with the sounds of you and Hongjoong panting, trying to catch your breath. The room reeks of sex. Your eyes are still locked on his. His white cum painted on your face and mouth. Without any other choice, you close your mouth and swallow his bittersweet cum.

“Fuck” Hongjoong whispers under his breath. He caresses your hair and reaches over his desk to grab a few tissue papers. Hongjoong wipes your face gently and kisses your forehead.

"Let me clean you up down there,"

Hongjoong whispered, his voice a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to linger in

the air between you. The earlier intensity of steamy sex had left a palpable tension, but now, a gentle calm enveloped the room. His eyes, once aflame with desire, were now filled with a warmth that reassured you, reminding you of the caring side he often showed.

After the whirlwind of passion, Hongjoong's demeanor had transformed completely. The fire that had ignited between you both settled into a tender glow as he moved closer, his presence both comforting and protective. With a steady hand, he reached for another tissue, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he began to clean you up. The touch was careful and deliberate, as if he were trying to convey his affection through each gentle motion.

You felt a mix of vulnerability and warmth wash over you, grateful for the way he approached this moment. It was as though he understood the importance of transitioning from the intensity of physical connection to something more nurturing and intimate. You appreciated how he took his time, ensuring that you felt cared for, both emotionally and physically. As you two began to help each other back into your clothing, you couldn’t ignore the lingering feelings.

“I’ll take you home” Hongjoong smiles gently at you and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. You nod and follow behind him out of his office. As he approached your desk, Hongjoong gathered your bags. You instinctively reached out to grab them, but he gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Let me handle this,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. With that, he took the lead, guiding you toward his car.

As you followed behind, your legs felt wobbly, you could sense him glancing back occasionally, ensuring you were still keeping up.

At the car, he paused, opening the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. You slid into the seat. He placed your bags in the back with care, then turned to you, his demeanor softening as he reached for his spare coat. With a fluid motion, he draped it over your shoulders, its warmth enveloping you like a comforting hug.

“Hongjoong—” you started, the silence stretching between you, but he raised a hand to quiet you.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to say anything. Just rest,” he said gently. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

The drive home was silent. The hum of the engine a lullaby in the stillness of the night. You fought to keep your eyes open, fatigue clawing at you, but each passing moment, tried to invite you to surrender to the drowsiness. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, signaling at you from your drowsy haze. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was already gazing at you.

“Y/N…” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “I meant what I said when I told you I can be a better lover than Siwoo.” The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “He doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who truly values you.” His eyes held a raw intensity as he continued, “I don’t think I can go on without you knowing that I’ve always wanted you for myself.”

His sudden confession took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless. The air around you felt charged, and you could hardly process the emotions swirling within you.

“Let me prove to you that I will love you better. Please, Y/N,” he urged, his gaze earnest and imploring. The vulnerability he displayed was a stark contrast to what he portrayed in the office just moments ago. This was a side of him that revealed his deep feelings, and it struck a chord within you.

Your heart raced as you absorbed his words, the truth of them resonating deep inside. You had long felt the magnetic pull toward him, the warmth in his presence that made you feel seen in a way Siwoo never had. You realized in that moment that you, too, wanted to love him—fully and unreservedly.

Compelled by a rush of emotion, you leaned in closer, the space between you evaporating. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a hesitant exploration that quickly deepened as he responded. His hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he pulled you in, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Fuck- if you kiss me like that I might take you right here again” Hongjoong chuckles against your lips. And you giggle in response. However, his expression falls down.

“Y/N… I should tell you that Siwoo has been cheating on you.” Hongjoong sighs as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Who’s Siwoo?” You joke trying to mask your disappointment of him mentioning your now ex. “Y/N, I know I initiated an affair while you are dating him too but, you needed to know.” Hongjoong states in a serious tone.

“I know, Hongjoong.” You say softly. “I figured after our conversation we had on Friday, when he came over to my house the next day. I guess my naive self chose to ignore it… I messaged him earlier when we got to the car that I’m over with him. I’m no longer his.” You look at Hongjoong as he studies your face.

“So… does this mean you’re mine?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. You softly smile and shrug your shoulders. Hongjoong smirks at you and in an instant unbuckles his seat belt and exits the car. He makes his way to the passenger door and opens it. Swiftly, he lifts your body and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp in response and he carries you towards his house.

“You drove us to your house?!” You exclaim as you giggle over his shoulder.

“Let me remind you again who you really belong to” Hongjoong chuckles as he playfully slaps your ass and quickly makes his way through the doors of his home.

Pt. 2 (updated 10/21)

Author’s commentary: Should I do a sequel? 👀. I had way more ideas for this story but decided to cut it short LOLLL. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy😝 feel free to fangirl in my comment section/ ask box🤭.

#ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez writing #yeostinywrites #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong hard thoughts #hongjoong #hongjoongcryforme

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gothamite-rambler · 1 month ago

Text

How the Wayne family handles injuries sometimes

Bruce: My arm feels weird.

Clark: It's broken!

Bruce: Oh is it?

Clark (using x ray vision): I can see the bone snapped in half.

Bruce: Oh, that's why I winced earlier.

Clark: What the hell? Get up, I'm driving you to the hospital.

Bruce: Is the bone snapped in half or out of place?

Clark (sighing): Of course you'd ask that, it's snapped!

Bruce: Hm, I can pay the insurance, sure let's go.

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

Nightwing: Okay, are they gone?

Flash: Yep. If we go around-

Nightwing (exhausted): I'm going to rest on the concrete for a second.

Nightwing fell forward to the ground and moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain.

Flash (horrified): Oh my god!

Nightwing (unfazed): I'm fine... they didn't break my hip too bad... just won't be able to stand for an hour or two. I can, but I cry for like five minutes. Can you carry me?

Flash (smiling): This was in a dream I had.

Nightwing (annoyed): Don't make it weird.

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

Damian: Hello Jon.

Damian waved at Jon, a tiny drop of blood trickling down his arm.

Jon: Hey pal- Your hand is bleeding.

Damian: I got stabbed in the hand during patrol last night. I must've done the stitching wrong.

Jon: You sewed your wound?

Damian: Yes, probably missed a stitch.

Jon: ... Awesome! We should take you to the hospital though.

Damian: I'm under my father's insurance, but we don't have to rush. I'm going to buy us food first.

Jon: Your pain threshold is odd, but again awesome.

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

Tim: Hey, question is the wall over there purple or blue?

Bernard (deadpan): That wall is white.

Tim: I'm going color blind again, freaking Fear Toxin. I'll return in fifteen minutes. Oh and I was in town when Batman and Robin were fighting Scarecrow.

Tim left the apartment, relaxed since this had happened three times at this point.

Bernard (hasn't told Tim he knows he's Robin): I should check what he does but he fixed it last time.

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

Roy: There's an arrow in your arm!

Jason: Ah shit, there is.

Jason yanked it out with ease.

Jason: You can have this.

Roy (staring at the unbroken arrow): How strong... is your pain tolerance?

Jason: I died once so... super strong. I am numb to the pain... sometimes it feels good. Motto of my family.

Roy: Why have I heard... all of you say that?

How the Wayne family handles injuries sometimes pt 2

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deadsetobsessions · 5 months ago

Text

Fae adjacent! Danny pt. 2

Timothy Drake hadn’t figured out what Danny Fenton was. The shop keeper had been kind, something the nine year old hadn’t expected when he walked into Danny’s shop, willing to trade away his name and soul to get Jason back.

As the young man tilted his head at Jason’s grave, something distinctly inhuman crossing his face as he smelt the soil, Tim had the slightest inkling that he didn’t want to know.

Tim, despite what most people would say, had some kind of self preservation instinct. He wouldn’t have survived traipsing after vigilantes in Gotham this long if he didn’t.

He did not want to find out what kind of creature Danny Fenton could be when enraged. (Despite the fear, something in Tim trilled in Danny presence. Safety, it said. Acceptance.)

——

Danny hummed. The soil here had been disturbed. The dead had not stayed dead. Danny smirked. He knew a bit about not staying dead.

“Your Jason isn’t here, little Sparrow.”

“What?”

“See the soil?”

The little sparrow- Tim- curiously looked down. Danny was sure the kid was smart and a few seconds later, he was proven right.

“The soul’s fresh. Overturned. Someone dug him up? No. An indent. No soil on the outside of the burial, it’s not square- he dug himself up?”

Danny sent the little sparrow an approving smile. “Well, Gotham was never known for its rule abiding citizens, dead or not.”

The little sparrow sighed. “Great. He’s a zombie now?”

“Not quite. Come, we will find your brother.”

“He's, uh, not my brother.”

Danny blinked, pausing. “You would give your name for someone who isn’t family?”

Tim flushed. “He’s- he’s my hero!”

"He'd better be thankful for this, then. What a good friend you are, little sparrow."

Tim lowered his voice, "He doesn't know I exist?”

Danny stared at him and wondered if Phantom ever had anyone who would give their names for him. He also wondered if the standard for human stupidity had lowered since he woke up.

“You see how that's worse, right?"

"Can we get this done, please? Preferably before Batman comes out at night?"

"There are worse things than the Bat, but yes, we may. This way."

As Danny led the way, following the scent of a newly retethered soul and trace amounts of what this world called Lazarus Pits, he found himself wondering who taught this kid his self preservation instincts because they needed to be fired. Tim had followed him, through shady alleys and darkened roads, without a thought for his own safety.

They reached the door of what clearly was a pixie den. Before Danny entered, he turned to Tim. "You, little sparrow, would be the first to be murdered in a poorly done horror movie. Now, stay here while I get Jason."

With that said and satisfaction taken from Tim's flabbergasted and insulted face, Danny headed inside the pixie den to collect the wayward soul.

——

"It's Danny!"

"Danny!"

The pixies in the room cheered as he walked in. Their teeth were a bit too sharp, ears a little too pointed, with shirts that did not fit quite right at their backs.

"Hey, guys." Danny strode to the room, following the scent of Jason's soul. "

"Ah, interested in our fresh catch?" One of the more... prolific pixies sidled up to him. "I think we'll make good entertainment of this boy yet. Maybe even the king would like a gift. His soul's pretty strong, mind's almost dead though."

Danny turned to the pixie and smiled. "I'm coming to collect on my contract, unfortunately."

The bar fell to complete silence. The mist and haze of the bar settled and drew back from the tinge of green in Danny's eyes. Oberon might have ruled his court but Danny's court was above even his.

"Oh- I. Yes, of course, please." The pixie stepped back hastily. Danny strode the rest of the way, content in the unnatural silence of the normally chatty pixies. He picked Jason up from the seat, frowning as he caught the scent of mind numbing herbal paste in the food in front of the kid.

"The children," he uttered commandingly. "Are off limits."

"But-!"

Danny clicked his tongue chidingly as he began leading the unsteady kid out the door.

"It isn't quite the days of old anymore, where people are aware of normal trickery. If an adult falls for your schemes, then that is on them. Children? No. To pick on a newly tethered soul is too far into my court for me to turn a blind eye."

"How are we supposed to do anything with the bat watching the skies?"

"Then fly below him," Danny drew his lips back, allowing Phantom to flicker onto his human face and warping it to something more inhuman. Like them.

"We understand," the bar's proprietor agreed. "Your word will be heard and heeded, king of another court."

"Much appreciated."

——

"Jason!"

"One second, little sparrow." Danny focused, drawing upon the chaotic magic that laid beneath the thrum of ectoplasm. He, oddly enough, has had enough practice returning memories to make this process as easy as a twist of his hand. Jason went limp.

"Jason!" Tim's cry had a little more panic in it.

"Worry not, he's simply sleeping. Regained memories tend to be quite taxing." He shuffled Jason a little closer to Tim. "Here you are, little sparrow. One Jason, whole and generally unharmed."

Tim glanced at Jason and then at himself. He sheepishly looked at Danny. "Would you mind helping me get him back home?"

Danny tilted his head back and laughed.

#fae adjacent danny #dcxdp #danny phantom #tim drake #tim drake and his crazy luck #what else would you call it though #he managed to find the only friendly fae in gotham #not that the other fae aren't friendly #they're super friendly as long as you sell your soul by the end

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago

Text

*NSFW* How to train your pet Human (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)

CW: Mind break, training, human pet, pet/owner relationship, humiliation, dub-con, non-con, dead dove

Pt 2, pt 3

(Reader) sat quietly and fearfully in a small cage that didn't allow for any wiggle room, their legs falling asleep under them from being in the same position for so long. They didn't remember how they got here, in a cage surrounded by freaks in what seemed to be a street market, only remembering walking home from the convenience store a little past midnight and seeing a white, blinding light before passing out.

Aliens of all shapes stuck their disgusting faces towards the bars of (Reader's) cage, speaking in sounds that didn't sound like speech at all. (Reader) watched as sniffling cages near them were bought one by one, and feared for their future.

After nearly an entire day (Reader) felt their cage lift high above the ground without shaking, and witnessed a tall creature draped with beautiful deep blue robes raise the cage to get a better look at (Reader's) face without needing to bend down. And bending down to the tiny cage must have been impossible without dirtying it's knees, since it seemed over seven feet tall.

It's face face was smooth, with large, opal colored eyes eyes in a hard shelled face. There was no nose, or lips, on its black and purple iridescent face. It spoke in a human like voice, in an earth language (Reader) couldn't understand.

"What?" Their voice was dry from dehydration.

"I asked what language you speak."

The voice was higher than expected, and melodic, yet still masculine. He lowered the cage to his hip, but didn't set (Reader) down, exchanging chatter with the seller and handing over a bag full of, what (Reader) assumed to be, some type of currency.

(Reader) was carried back to what looked like to be a large ship, dying of anxiety over what was going to become of them. They passed through multiple corridors and gateways, before entering a room decorated with glass cases and blue drapery the same color as the alien's cloak. He placed the cage on the floor and unlatched it, stepping back to give (Reader) space.

They tried to stand, but their legs were dead from the hours they spent bent doubled over. They cried in pain as the feeling began to slowly tingle down their thighs to their feet.

"What is wrong, human?"

(Reader) wiped away the snot and tears rolling down their chin. "My-My legs are numb from sitting in the cage. It hurts."

The one who bought (Reader) reached under their arm pits, raising them up and sitting them on a very high desk. He reached with what looked like scaled hands and began to massage their legs. (Reader) whined in discomfort, both at the pain and the uncomfortable situation, fearful to push the much taller creature away. Now that they were out of the cage, the alien was much taller and imposing, visibly sleek bodied under the fabric, but not scrawny, (Reader) could feel his strength.

"What is your name, human?"

"...(Reader)."

"(Reader)." He practiced saying their name, still massaging their legs. "I am Kirtch."

(Reader) nervously fiddled with the bottom of their shirt. "Why am I here?"

Kirtch pried his eyes away from their legs, looking down into (Reader's) scared face. "This will be your new home."

"What?" (Reader's) heart dropped into their stomach.

"I promise your safety, (Reader). I will do my best to provide you with comfort." Kirtch picked (Reader) up again, but didn't set them down, carrying them around the room giving them a little tour. The room was actually three, entering from the main hall into a study first, with another door leading to a bedroom, a small restroom hidden within that.

"I didn't expect to be bringing you home, so I don't have any human furniture yet. Although I've never owned a human before there is no need for you to fret, I have done extensive research, and I am confident as a first time owner."

(Reader) only just began to fully realize what was happening to them. "I.. I want to go home." The back of their throat got tight, choking back a sob painfully. Their nose began to tingle and they knew they wouldn't be able to hold back their tears for long.

Kirtch rubbed their back in what was supposed to be a comforting manor, but his hands were harder than a humans, and it was rough against their skin. "You'll feel better once your adjustment period is over. I shall bring you something to eat. It won't be a cultural dish from your planet, but it will be made of human safe ingredients."

(Reader) stretched their legs while trying to smile through their tears. 'Like hell. I'd rather die.'

They watched as he left the room, wondering how far away the kitchen or dining area was from the room they were in. (Reader) waited for a few minutes after Kirtch left before shakily rushing towards the door. But the door had no handles or knobs, it was a flat wall with barley any indication that there was an opening at all. They touched all over the spot (Reader) had seen the tall man had placed his hand, but nothing happened.

"no no nO NO!" They slapped the "door" in frustration. Time for plan B. (Reader) pressed their back against the wall, as flat as they could muster, just trying to make sure they wouldn't be visible in Kirtch's peripherals. The fear was destroying the lining of (Reader's) stomach, gurgling uncomfortably.

A whirring noise activated as Kirtch entered the room, holding a tray in his hands. It was quick, but (Reader) snuck right behind Kirtch and out the room without him noticing, right before the automatic door slid shut. The walls of the hallway were very tall and slightly rounded, made out of a blue metal. (Reader) began running in the direction they remembered entering from. They knew the probability that they were still on land was slim, but dying was better than being kept a prisoner without any hope of returning home.

(Reader) made it down only one hallway before strong hands effortlessly lifted them under their armpits. They kicked while crying, not seemingly phasing Kirtch in the slightest. He brought them back to his room, and his lack of anger hurt (Reader's) pride; it was good that he wasn't furious, threatening to hurt them, but his calmness reinforced the futility of (Reader's) escape attempt.

"That was my fault. I read that humans were prone to escaping, especially in the adjustment period. I should have expected this." He sat down, a deep imitation of a sigh rumbling through his hard chest. Kirtch sat down in his large chair in front of his desk, and laid (Reader) across his knees as their face fell. "Knowing this is my fault brings me no joy for what I need to do, however the manual did say that humans will test authority and will continue to do so if not punished."

(Reader) protested while squirming, incapable of breaking free as Kirtch slid their pants down to their thighs, exposing their bare bottom. His shelled hand was cold against their skin. (Reader) clenched to prepare themselves for contact, but it was useless against the inhuman slap, his hard flesh resulting in a sharp pain like they had been struck with a paddle instead of a hand. They yelped, squeezing their thighs together as the tears began to form again.

Another slap connected with their ass painfully, stinging as their tender rear began to bruise.

"I'm so-sorry!" (Reader) blubbered, another whack rippling their buttocks aggressively.

"Humans may appear remorseful, however this is self defense tactic to cease the pain they are experiencing. Unless one establishes themselves as the dominant force, they will continue to act out."

"No! I really am sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!" Their voice cracked as they screamed out the apology between sobs and slaps.

Kirtch smiled, rubbing the skin he had split open, stinging the fresh cuts. "I shall finish with your punishment for now. I do not wish to spoil you, but I would be lying if I didn't have a soft spot for you, my cute little pet. The next time this happens I will not be so gentle.."

(Reader) widened their eyes in horror. That was gentle?!

"Would you rather spend your first night in my bed, or shall I prepare a nest on the floor for you? I will buy a suitable human bed for you tomorrow, of course, but until then..?"

"The floor." (Reader) replied a little too quickly.

A "nest" of bedding was constructed, and (Reader) did find it quite comfortable, but refused to sleep, fearful that at any moment they would be in danger. They rested for what only felt like three or fours hours, max, before Kirtch rose from his bed and begun his day. His routine was uncannily similar to a human's, rising and dressing in his robe, stretching and leaving to five something to eat. It only enraged (Reader) further at their inhumane treatment.

"I am not a dog." They whispered to themselves, as though fearful they would forget.

The ship must have been still docked at the trader's colony, because throughout the day gifts for (Reader) were brought into Kirtch's room and office. With each piece of "human" furniture Kirtch would happily rub (Reader's) head, petting them like an animal and waiting for them to show some kind of sign that they enjoyed their new toys. But (Reader) showed no such sign, feeling humiliated as they were treated like a cat instead of an adult human. But they didn't snack away Kirtch's hand, or tell him off, scared of being punished again, so they simply sulked, trying to hide from his gaze so they could disassociate without interruption.

His new pet's attitude was making Kirtch worried. He flipped through the human owning handbook, wondering what he could be doing wrong. They seemed so stressed, and Kirtch felt it was far worse than the normal stress of a new environment. Then Kirtch flipped to an interesting chapter on chemical responses. "If your human has pent up frustrations or stress, a fun way to help them relieve themselves is the manual release of the chemical oxytocin..."

(Reader) hid under a box, hating the irony of their hiding place while they tried to formulate a new escape plan, now knowing that they were in fact still connected to some type of land. Not every alien could be a cruel monster, there had to be some kind of interplanetary animal rights group or space hippies. The box was lifted and removed from (Reader) sat to the side as Kirtch smiled down on them.

"I'm sorry I haven't been playing with you, pet. I've been so busy trying to make this room more comfortable for you that I have been unintentionally neglecting you." He scooped (Reader) up into his arms, and brought them over to his desk, which he had already cleared off. (Reader) nervously glanced around, wondering what was going to happen to them. "But I wanted to help you become acclimated to your new home. And you still feel more comfortable the sooner we ease your stress." He pulled out a box and a couple of strange bottles with syringes.

(Reader) scrambled to get away, but was quickly held down by one hand, being shushed in what was supposed to be a calming manner. One of the strange bottles filled the syringe, making (Reader) thrash harder. Kirtch pulled down their pants, revealing their still sore ass cheeks, and stuck in the needle, injecting them with the unknown liquid. (Reader) cried out as a warm sensation rippled through their body, turning their limbs to jello and making it difficult to breathe.

Kirtch released them, seeing that they could no longer run from him. (Reader) growled, pissed off that their body wouldn't act as they wanted it to. "What did you do to me?!" Their body was rapidly heating, becoming to feverish to hold up.

"If your human has pent up frustrations or stress, a fun way to help them relieve themselves is the manual release of the chemical oxytocin..." Kirtch opened the box next, revealing a strange rubber looking object shaped like a cup on the outside with polyps inside. "I have always wanted a pet human, (Reader), so I was very excited to see you for sale. You are the most attractive like human I've ever seen, and I promise to give you a long, happy life."

The device was placed on (Reader's) crotch, attaching itself to their pubic area without needing to be held on. It came to life, each nub moving on it's own as it rubbed (Reader's) growing erection. The contraption grew against (Reader's) body, enlarging to fill every hole and crevice, pulsating and writhing like a living creature.

"No! It feels gross! Take it off!" (Reader) screamed in fear, watching as their hips bucked against their will and their nipples hardened through their shirt. Tears over how unfair everything was pricked at their eyes. Kirtch lifted (Reader) into the sitting position, rubbing their back soothingly while giving them a better view of the throbbing toy violating them.

"Shh. There's a good pet.." His words felt like taunts to (Reader) as they kept approaching their orgasm.

(Reader's) body was shaking as it begged for release, but (Reader) held strong, trying to rob Kirtch of the satisfaction of seeing them crumble. Another bottle was opened, this one however was poured down (Reader's) throat before they had a chance to cognitively force themselves to close their mouth. The warm liquid was tasteless and odorless, but the effect was like an immediate five shots of vodka, clearing (Reader's) sinuses and plunging them into a drunken stupor.

"What..? What..?" (Reader) couldn't even form their sentence correctly. Their unfocused eyes drifted around confusedly before snapping down to their lower regions, feeling their stomach muscles clench in anticipation.

Kirtch continued to rub their head and chest, gently rubbing their head like a good puppy while he rolled their nipple between his harsh fingers. "Whose my good little pet?"

"Ahh! No.. I'm not a pet.." (Reader's) whimpering voice mewled pathetically, their quivering lips complimenting their sweaty visage. The tingling feeling that had been building was ready to overflow.

"Don't you want to cum, little pet? It's okay. I'll make sure to always keep you happy like this, all you have to do is ask nicely." Kirtch leaned in, amused by his human's drenched thighs soaking his desk, shaking from being denied their orgasm. Behind (Reader's) back, Kirtch held a remote. They would not achieve relief until they played the part of a good little pet.

Drool dripped down (Reader's) chin, unnoticed by their hazy mind. "I-I want to cum."

"What was that?"

"Please let me cum?" They moaned, trying to press themselves deeper into the toy.

A button was pressed outside of (Reader's) peripherals.

Their body rocked violently as (Reader) was finally allowed to achieve their climax. Kirtch continued to stroke their head affectionately, whispering words of praise to his little human as liquid dripped from between the toy and their wet holes.

Kirtch kissed the top of their damp head, still smiling over how adorable (Reader) was. Although he hoped his pet would come to love him and enjoy his company on their own, he was secretly excited to use this toy on his little pet again. He peeled the appliance off, causing (Reader) to twitch sensitively in Kirtch's arms. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed, but Kirtch found that it wasn't a bad look on (Reader).

"Why don't you lay down for a nap, little pet. We'll play some more when you wake up."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere alien #yandere alien x reader #bd/sm pet #gender neutral reader #pet reader #pet human #cw dubcon #smut #brain dead #dead dove do not eat #not proofread #bad writing

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rrrrinmaru · 3 months ago

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calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw) pt 3 - finale

wc: 2.2k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, thigh fucking (intercrural), orgasm denial, penis in vagina sex, dom!sylus sub!mc, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, use of Evol, light choking, mating press, doggy, full nelson, creampie brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // recommended to read part 1 here and part 2 here for context

It feels like years. Sylus wakes you up with a mouth on your cunt, licking wetly at your pussy and sucking your clit into his mouth, eyes glittering with smugness as he stares up at you from between your thighs. He moves back the moment you arch your back, fingers winding into his hair in a weak attempt to hold him in place—he doesn’t let you cum.

In the shower, he slides his cock between your soaped up thighs and fucks you like that, the head of his cock slamming into your swollen clit with every swing of his hips. You’re gasping, hands scrabbling for purchase on the tiles while he brings the showerhead down to spray at your clit. Sylus’s other hand is squeezing your tit, fingers pulling sharply at your nipple and making you cry out. You’re close, fuck, you’re close.

At the dining table, you’re on his lap. His cock is trapped under your panties, sitting against your wet cunt like a pulsing rod of heat. It slides against the seam of your pussy every time he leans forward to scoop something off the plate. Sylus feeds you, laughing lowly when you can barely stomach more than a few mouthfuls. You’re more focused on other things, like the heat coiling in your gut like a snake about to lunge at its prey. The lips of your cunt are spread around his cock, your hole clenching desperately against the base of his cock.

Again, and again, Sylus brings you to the brink. He holds you there, like he has a hand on your throat, choking the orgasm off right at the tip. He keeps you right on edge, until your body is so overworked and so sensitive that even a brush of his shoulder against yours is enough to make you jump, pussy tightening at the slightest touch no matter how much you try to remind yourself that Sylus won’t let you cum.

It makes you irritable. You want the high, the suffocating heat of something buried in your sweet cunt, something thick for your pussy to grip onto as you shudder through your orgasm, but Sylus dangles it just out of reach. You end up glaring at him more often than not, turning away to huff at the mere sight of him.

But Sylus just laughs, one hand reaching out to reel you in, and proceeds to make you lose your mind before letting you go.

“Sy–lus,” you choke out, fingers clutching weakly at the bedsheets. The fabric is completely crumpled beneath your grip and the pillow below your abdomen is soaked with sweat. Your legs feel numb, knees bent with your ass up as Sylus fucks into you with four fingers. He sets a harsh pace, licking at your clit as he slams his fingers into your cunt, hitting your g-spot with devastating accuracy.

You’re going to tip over the edge. His tongue laps at your clit, lips closing around the swollen bud to suck on it harshly with a particularly vicious thrust of his fingers—it forces you up along the bed, hips jerking back to sit on his fingers before jolting away, as if your body can’t decide whether it wants to chase that pleasure or escape from it.

“G’na cum,” you pant, barely getting the words out with how breathless you are. It’s a warning in every sense of the word—you think you might actually kill him if he stops halfway, but at the same time, something deep inside you wants to let him know you’re close. To let him know that if he’s going to stop, he needs to stop now or your mind will go blank from the way he’s sucking on your clit.

Sylus gives one last kiss to your clit, teeth scraping briefly against the oversensitive nub before pulling away. It makes you yelp, the pleasure bordering on pain, but it’s so good, so fucking good that you can’t help but push your hips back in a bid to chase after his mouth.

“Can’t have that happen, sweetie. Not yet,” he murmurs. But his fingers are still going, crooking inside your cunt and making you clench up every time they scrape against your walls. He’s fucking you like he intends to make you gush, like he’s ready to watch your slick drip out of your pussy, down his wrist, all the way to his forearm. Those clever fingers are punishing, demanding as they fuck into you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head when your pussy trembles once, twice—

Sylus withdraws his fingers in a flash. Your cunt clenches on nothing, hips squirming as you try to cling to his fingers even as he draws them out of you. There’s a loud, wailing sound in the room, and it takes you a good few seconds to realise it’s coming from your mouth. You’re sobbing, face buried in the sheets, gasping for your life at the orgasm that was ripped from your fingertips.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he gets to tease you like this, to bring you to the edge so many times and leave you wanting—it’s not fair that he gets to play your body like a fiddle, making you sore and achy and so desperate for cock that you barely recognise your face in the mirror. It’s not fucking fair—

“Easy, dollface,” Sylus laughs, one hand scruffing you on the back of your neck, fingers and thumb wrapping around your throat like a necklace. “Open up.”

And he slides in, home, all the way until his cockhead pushes against the opening of your cervix. The slide is wet from how soaked you are, and you’re tight despite how he fingered you for what felt like hours. His cock sinks into you, and you distantly hear the low groan he lets out as he fucks in, in, in until his hips slam against your ass and he just stays there for a moment, luxuriating in the feel of your throbbing cunt closing around his dick.

You don’t make a sound. Your mouth is open, chest tight as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your limbs twitch, back arching as your hips move of their own accord, spasming around Sylus’ fat cock. It burns, like a fire eating you alive from the inside, so explosive it hurts.

You cum from the feeling of his cock fully buried in your cunt, pussy gushing wetly and soaking the sheets. You shake apart, senses dulled as your entire world shrinks down to your cunt, your twitching clit, your pussy clinging desperately to the stiff cock inside you, stuffing you full.

“Good girl,” Sylus says breathlessly from above you, fingers tightening around your throat. “I told you I’d make it good.”

The sound you make is indescribable. Sylus lets you ride it out on his cock, groaning whenever your cunt pulsates around his length. Right when your body is about to relax, to come down from it’s high, Sylus pulls out and slams back into you.

You shriek, entire body jolting from the electrifying burst of overstimulation that flashes white-hot through your body.

Sylus doesn’t let up. He fucks you hard and dirty, like he’s putting all the pent-up energy from not being in your pussy for the past twenty-four hours to good use. He fucks like he’s desperate to bury himself in your cunt, to carve out a space for his cock that your pussy will remember for centuries even when he’s not inside you.

The punishing pace shocks you right into your next orgasm. The pleasure never stops, just builds and builds until you’re pushed off the edge again, falling right into the throes of your second orgasm.

“S-Sylus!” You cry out, voice hoarse from overuse. “Please, please—”

“I’ve got you,” Sylus growls. His voice is low, tight from exertion, but his hips don’t stop moving. His cock saws into you, the cockhead hitting your cervix and scrapping against your g-spot with such devastating accuracy that you can’t help how loud you get when you cum again, pussy squirting furiously around the hard cock inside you. “Again, sweetie.”

“C-can’t,” you gasp, desperately sucking in mouthfuls of air despite the grip on your neck. Sylus’s other hand is on your hip, holding you firmly in place as he fucks into your cunt, and you can hear him chuckle at the way your pussy drips slick.

“What a messy girl,” he croons, slamming his cock deep into your pussy. It makes you shiver, overstimulation mixing with pleasure as it crawls all over your body, setting your nerve-endings aflame. “One more time.”

You exhale, body spasming as it obeys him. Your pussy clenches around him so tightly it makes him groan, and you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams when you cum again.

This time, he fucks you slower, really letting you shake and shiver through the aftershocks of this orgasm. You’re a quiet, whining mess when he flips you over, cock still buried inside you, and you can barely force your eyes open to look him in the eye.

“Cute,” he remarks, eyes glinting in the light as he reaches up to press a thumb against your parted lips. “Are you satisfied?”

You lie there, chest heaving as you try to gather your wits about yourself. Your cunt clenches weakly around his cock, clinging to the heat radiating off his length. If you could muster up the strength, you would maybe lift your legs in the air so he can get a better angle to fuck you with.

But you don’t have the energy. You’re tired, vision blurry from sweat and tears, and you think you might need a few days to recover from this entire ordeal.

Sylus gives you a knowing look. His gaze rakes across your spread-out body, combing across every inch of you, and his gaze is so hungry that it makes you shiver and tighten up on his cock.

He leans down, head dipping to position himself right at your ear. His hair brushes against your cheek and his breath blows against your neck. It’s too much. It’s not enough. You want to reach up and claw at his back but you don’t have the energy.

“I’m not satisfied,” Sylus whispers into your ear. His tongue darts out, tracing a wet trail along the shell of your ear. “I think you can give me a few more orgasms, sweetie.”

“Too—nngh, too much,” you breathe, voice stuttering when he rocks his hips into yours. “S-Sylus, I don’t—”

“You can,” he asserts, hands wandering down to grip you tightly by your hips. “Three more, and then I’ll kiss your pretty pink pussy until you soak my face. How about it?”

You moan, eyes fluttering shut at the mere thought of it. If Sylus says three more, he isn’t joking. He’ll fuck those orgasms out of you, whether you want to or not, and he’ll wring the pleasure out of your body until you’re a breathless, panting, limp body. Until your cunt aches and you can’t walk straight for a week.

Before you can answer, something pulls your legs up. Heat circles around your ankles, yanking your legs up and to your sides, knees coming to rest at your shoulders. Sylus pulls back just enough to hook the inside of his elbows around your knees, and he smirks down at you as he grinds into your cunt.

The slide is wet. So wet it’s absurd, so wet you can hear the squelching sounds from your dripping pussy.

“Count for me,” Sylus murmurs, one eye shining a brilliant crimson. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

He fucks you, over and over again, using his Evol to manhandle your body into different positions until you’re begging for mercy. You cum when he cums, at the hot sensation of his cum spilling into you, painting your insides white. You cum again when he holds you up, bouncing you on his cock with your tits pressed up against the window, clit rubbing against the glass, vision blurry as you look out onto the N109 zone. You cum one more time, slick dripping uselessly from your throbbing cunt when he fucks you while you’re on your side, one leg lifted into the air, his hand on your clit, the other hand groping your tit.

Then he makes good on his promise, energy circling your ankles like cuffs as he holds your legs over your body, folding you in half so he can grip your ass and pull your cunt apart for him to lick into.

When you cum again, you think it’s a dry orgasm. Your pussy clenches and throbs, your clit pulsating weakly, but you don’t know if you produce any more slick or if your cunt is just filled with his spit and cum. You feel wrecked.

He mouths at your clit, carefully licking with the tip of his tongue while you shudder in his hands. When you come down from the orgasm, he pulls your legs back down and your body finally eases into the sheets.

“Easy, sweetie,” Sylus repeats, but this time there’s a softness to his tone. His hands on you are gentle, tucking you into his chest as he lifts you from the bed. “I’ve got you.”

And despite all his sharp edges, all the snark, all the challenging—you think he does.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #恋与深空 #러브앤딥스페이스 #恋と深空 #秦彻 #rin writes l&ds #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace smut #lnds smut #sylus smut

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pedroscurls · 2 months ago

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in every lifetime (pt. 2)

summary: you and logan try to steer clear of each other, the scars running so deep that certain memories of the past occur. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader word count: 3.5k tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), flashbacks from both reader's world and worst!logan's universe (in italics), no use of y/n. a/n: i'm so so surprised at how well the first part was received and i just want to thank everyone who's read it!!! i'm a sucker for angst and i'm so excited to make this into a longer series. in each part, there's gonna be a song that basically sums up the feels for the chapter. song: wherever you will go by the calling prev. part - next part.

“I’m not him.”

His words repeat in your mind like it’s some kind of mantra, trying to convince you that the Logan you saw a week ago wasn’t the same Logan you lost all those years ago.

But he was right there, so close and yet so far. The subtle touches that night only reminded you of the man you lost. Even after all this time, he still had such a strong hold on your heart.

But this Logan wasn’t yours and he made that very clear. It felt like the world was laughing in your face, taunting you by having the love of your life resurrected in a version that wanted nothing to do with you. You weren’t naive, you knew that this person wasn’t the same man you had fallen in love with, but your soul yearned for him and you knew he felt it too.

You never truly recovered from losing your Logan. Instead, you had just forced yourself to get up day in and day out for Laura because you knew that’s what Logan would have wanted you to do. As the years passed, you became numb to the loss of him. You tried not to think about him, tried not to reminisce of the moments you shared with each other, but there had been times throughout the years where something reminded you of him.

And every time, it crippled you. Took hold of every inch of your being until all you could think about was Logan and it broke your heart all over again.

But seeing him caused your entire world to stop, serving as a reminder of the gaping hole that your Logan left in your heart.

While you tried to forget your Logan, to just continue living your life until it was your turn to go, seeing a different version of him just brought back all of the memories you tried so hard to erase. You wanted to forget, wanted these memories of him gone from your mind because it just hurt too much.

But here he was. A walking reminder of the man you loved.

The man you lost.

And the man you will never get back.

–

“I’m not her.”

Logan couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night he saw you. He tried to tell himself that you weren’t her, to convince himself that you weren’t the same woman he lost.

But having you so close where he could have just reached out and touched you stirred a lot of unresolved emotions that he tried so hard to bury. He knew you weren’t the woman that he had fallen in with – you were just some version of her in this universe and he had to wonder if this was life’s way of punishing him for all of the things he had done in his.

Logan wanted to push you away and he made it very clear that night that he wasn’t your Logan and that he never would be. He needed to keep you at a distance, but every fiber of his being yearned for you. Since that night, all Logan could hear was your laugh, your voice. All he could see was your smile, your eyes that gazed up at him.

He tried so hard to snap out of it because you weren’t her.

And when he was alone, when the hope that things could be different finally vanished, all he could see now was the same woman who had died in his arms because of him. All he could hear was your voice, calling out to him to save you, and the last words you told him before you took your last breath.

He barely slept and drinking only did so much. This universe was supposed to be his second chance at being a better version of himself, but he didn’t know how he could do that when he knew you existed in this world.

Your mere existence haunted him, causing a lot of conflicting feelings.

He wanted another chance with you, but how could he do that when he knew that you were better off without him? Safer without him?

This Logan didn’t belong in this universe, he knew that much.

But he couldn’t help the hope that he felt within himself (and from you) that maybe this wasn’t life’s way of taunting you both, but rather a second chance to make things right.

To be happy.

To have an ending that you both deserve.

With each other.

—

“You know, I’d do anything for you,” you tell Logan, who’s lying in bed next to you. What had started as a very casual situationship had turned into something much more serious.

Logan started spending more and more nights at your place, finding comfort in your presence. You were the calm within the storm, the peace within the chaos. He didn’t know when things changed, when things shifted, but his soul yearned for you.

“I know you would, bub,” he’d reply. Logan never made his feelings for you known, never made it obvious because if he did, it would make things more complicated than he already made it to be. He often wondered why he found you so late in his life, after everything he had been through, Logan finally had a chance of happiness but he didn’t know how long he had.

He could feel that his body was much different than before. Could feel the pain of his wounds last longer before it healed itself.

But you made him feel young again, made him feel like he finally deserved a life that he had seen others live. A chance to be happy. A chance to love.

“I’m serious, Logan.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“I think I love you.” you admit.

Logan sits up in bed abruptly. He can feel his chest tightening with so many emotions: relief, joy, fear. He feels you reach out for him and he just stands up, gathering his clothes and beginning to put them back on without a word.

“Logan–”

“No,” he growls. “No.”

You scramble to your feet, grabbing the sheet from your bed to wrap around your naked frame. With one arm holding it up, you use your other hand to rest on his chest. “Stop running.”

“Ain’t running. We both know exactly what this was, bub,” Logan says, shrugging your hand off of him. “I ain’t good for you, and we both know that.”

“Don’t you love me too?” you ask, voice quivering as you take a step away from him. “I know who you are, what you are, the things you’ve done and seen… but I love all of you. The good, the bad. All of it.”

Logan pulls on his black slacks and white tank top, glancing over at you. He feels tethered to you, feels like if he walks out of that door that he wouldn’t come back and he’d never fully recover.

“Of course, I love you,” Logan admits. “But I can’t– We can’t–” he feels his breath hitch in his throat. “I mean it. I ain’t good for you, bub. You deserve someone better than me.”

“I deserve you,” you hesitantly reach out for him, afraid that he’s going to pull away from you again. “There is no one better than you, Logan.”

“Things don’t ever work out for me,” he whispers, looking down at your hand that moves to take hold of his. “If I lose you, I won’t ever forgive myself.”

“You won’t lose me,” you promise.

“You don’t know that.”

“What happens if I lose you? What happens then?”

Logan shrugs. “You’ll be fine.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you tell him honestly. “My heart will always belong to you. In every lifetime. In every universe, I’m yours.”

Logan gazes at you and can see the tears in your eyes. Your free hand moves to rest gently on his chest, above his beating heart. You look at him in a way that no one ever has, that despite all of the things he has done, you still see the good in him.

And it was in that moment that Logan promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy, to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

“In every lifetime. In every universe,” he repeats, voice quiet as he leans into you…

Suddenly, you awake, gasping for air as you scramble to reach out to the empty space next to you. “Logan…” you call out for him, the sudden realization hitting you straight to your core. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you bring your legs up to your chest, beginning to cry into your knees. Your dreams – or rather memories – of Logan occur almost every night since meeting some version of him last week.

This new Logan had the same exterior as your Logan, haunted by his own memories, by his regrets and failures. But you couldn’t help the fact that while you were yearning and missing your Logan, you also craved this new Logan.

Was this life’s way of giving you another chance?, you had to wonder. And if it was, would you take it?

—

It was another morning where Logan was sitting on the couch, a bottle of liquor on the coffee table as he tried so hard to forget you and erase the memories that tied you to him. But even when he closed his eyes, you were all he could see.

“So, you do like me,” you grin up at him.

“I tolerate ya,” Logan answers with a smirk.

“Hm,” you gaze up at him. “I think you more than tolerate me. Just admit it, Logan. You like me.”

“And so what if I do, bub?” he asks, taking a careful step into your personal space. Logan can hear your heart race begin to beat faster and he smiles to himself. There had always been an instant attraction that he felt towards you when he came to the mansion and found you teaching a literature class to mutants. You had locked eyes with him as he was passing your classroom and flashed him a smile.

Logan never believed in love at first sight, but you had certainly made an impression on him from that brief glance alone. The more he got to know you and spend time with you, the stronger his feelings for you grew.

“If you do – which I think you do,” you begin. “Then I’d tell you that I like you too. A lot, actually.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to feel his heart racing at your admission. When he was around you, Logan felt calmer. And you always looked at him like he was someone worthy of your attention. Logan knew early on that there was a lingering longing for you, a craving that showed him he wanted more of you.

“That so, sweetheart?” Logan grins, hand gently resting on your cheek. His touch was such a stark contrast from what he was capable of. The same hands that were now touching you had hurt so many other people and yet with you, he was gentle, careful.

“Yeah, Logan,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “And I’d very much like it if you could kiss me now.”

“I think you’re trouble,” he mumbles, running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “If I kiss you now, that makes you mine.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Logan,” you reply, gently grazing your teeth across the tip of his thumb.

“I ain’t ever gonna let you go,” Logan admits. “There is no going back if we do this.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Whatever this is, I want it. I want you.”

Logan stares into your eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you were lying. But you never did lie to him. In fact, you were the most honest person he’s ever met. There’s a part of him that’s afraid to give into this because he knows that who he is and what he is is a danger to anyone that’s close to him.

And yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you.

“Are you sure?” Logan asks.

“I’ll always be yours, Logan,” you admit honestly. “In every lifetime and in every universe, I’m yours.”

Logan hears the sound of Althea cursing aloud, which causes his eyes to open as he looks around. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not in the same universe anymore and there’s a sudden realization when he remembers that you were gone. In his universe, you were dead.

He pays no attention to Althea, grabbing his liquor bottle and grunting in her direction before he walks down the hallway and into his bedroom. Once the door shuts, Logan sits on the edge of his bed and lies back, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of you. Thinks of the night he saw you last week. The sound of your voice, the sound of your laughter, the sight of your smile, the gaze in your eyes…

“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he mumbles to himself.

��

Later that night, Wade’s having his weekly family dinner again. Logan tries to make an excuse that he’s going to leave for the night, that he doesn’t want to participate or be around anyone, but Wade saw right through it.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Wade asks, setting up the table and making sure to gather chairs around it. “I don’t even know if she’s coming,” he lies.

“Laura will be here.”

“Doesn’t mean that she will be.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “I’d rather not be here if she is.”

“You know, you’d think that seeing the woman you love alive again would get you excited. Instead, you’re running away like you usually do,” Wade says seriously. “You know what happened in your universe wasn’t–”

“Enough,” Logan interrupts. “We don’t talk about my universe anymore, got it?”

Wade raises his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. All I’m saying… This is your second chance to be better, Peanut. Why not actually make a life for yourself here?”

“Because I don’t belong here,” Logan answers and then grabs a case of beer from the fridge along with another bottle of whiskey. “I’ll be in my room. I won’t bother you and you don’t bother me. Got it?”

“Sheesh,” Wade says. “Fine, Peanut.”

Logan grumbles under his breath and then walks into his room, shutting the door behind him and quickly opening a bottle of beer that he downs with ease.

As the hours pass, Logan tries to tune out the chatter coming from the living room. He doesn’t hear your voice amongst the amount of people in the apartment and while that should provide him some relief, it instead does the opposite. It disappoints him. He wants you nearby, wants to hear your voice, your laugh, smell your scent from miles away.

Logan wants you here.

And just as his mind drifts, he hears a knock on his door.

“Don’t bother me,” he calls out.

The knocking persists and he lets out a sigh of frustration. Logan stands from the bed and then swings the door open to see Laura standing on the other side of the door.

“What do you want?”

“For you to talk to her,” she answers, completely unbothered by his attitude. “I think you both can help each other.”

“Yeah, well that ain’t happening, kid. Now, please–” Logan’s about to shut the door when the younger woman’s hand reaches out to stop it from closing.

“I know she isn’t her and I know you aren’t him, but I also know that you both are thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“That this can be a second chance for the both of you.”

“Ain’t no such thing as second chances,” Logan replies.

“You saved our world, Logan,” Laura says softly. “You saved her.”

Logan can feel his chest tightening. “I killed her,” he corrects. “In my universe, I–” he shakes his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Just leave me alone, kid.”

This time, Laura allows him to close the door.

—

You’re pacing in front of Wade’s front door, heart beating out of our chest in anticipation that you might see Logan again. This was the first time in the last week that you managed to get yourself out of bed, having called out from work for an entire week. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and ironically, Logan’s flannel. Your Logan’s.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door and see it swing open. Wade’s on the other side with a large grin, welcoming you inside.

“You made it,” he grins.

“I’m only here to pick up Laura,” you correct him.

“Well, you and the big guy are certainly avoiding each other,” Wade points out. “Why is that?”

“Wade,” you sigh quietly. “I’m just here to pick up Laura,” you repeat.

Wade sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. But between you and me? This seems like a second chance that not a lot of people get.”

You don’t respond and see Laura round the corner. You smile in her direction and pull her into a hug. You can tell that her having another Logan in this universe is also taking a toll on her and you try to tell yourself, to convince yourself, that you need to be better for her.

“Ready to go?” you ask.

“Yeah, think so.”

“Great, I’m just gonna use the bathroom and then we’ll head out.”

You release her and walk down the hallway to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and sigh, resting your hands on the edge of the sink as you feel tears threaten to spill over. You know he’s here, know that he’s somewhere close because you can feel his presence.

Logan had been on high alert the moment you entered the apartment building. His heart rate picks up when he can smell your scent waft through his senses followed by your voice. It isn’t until he hears you enter the bathroom and begin crying that he feels a twist in the pit of his stomach.

He probably shouldn’t be focusing his hearing on you, especially since it seems like just being here was causing you so much pain, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the closest he can get to you while keeping you at a distance.

—

After a few minutes, you wipe your eyes and make yourself presentable. You know if Laura sees you crying, she’s going to want to do everything in her power to make you feel better and you don’t want to burden her with your feelings.

With a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom with your eyes gazed downwards. Suddenly, you bump into someone’s hardened chest and your hands immediately reach out. There’s a sense of familiarity with your touch and when you slowly look up, you see Logan gazing down at you.

“Logan, I–”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to move away. He just keeps his eyes locked on yours. Logan keeps his hands at his sides, his fingertips itching to touch you, to feel you.

You drop your hands back to your side and bite your lower lip in embarrassment. You’re both standing in the hallway, away from the sounds of chatter and laughter.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I should have watched where I was going.”

Logan just nods, but instead, he takes an inch step towards you. It causes you to take a step back until your back gently touches the wall. He’s crowding your space, gazing into your eyes. Logan knows that he should run, knows that he should keep himself far from you, but he can’t.

Your souls are tied to each other, bonded in every lifetime. Even if he tried to forget about you, tried to keep himself at arm’s length, Logan knows that it would only hurt you (and him) more.

Logan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he stares into your eyes and just like the version of you in his universe, you’re looking at him like he’s enough, like all you can see is the good in him. And it makes his heart swell, reminds him of the moment he locked eyes with you in his universe for the first time.

And maybe Wade was right. Maybe this is his second chance at making things right.

Slowly, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan feels an electric pull towards you at the soft touch and he knows you felt it too.

Quietly, Logan whispers, “In every universe and in every lifetime, I’m yours.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, remembering the dream you had earlier this morning and those same words you told your Logan when you told him you loved him for the first time.

Maybe Wade had a point. Maybe this is your second chance.

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cherrylovelycherry · 3 months ago

Text

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.

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