#Curse of the Alps | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyuuberryy · 2 months ago

Text

vanilla coconut !

pairing: sunshine!sunoo x grumpy!reader

genre: one sided enemies to lovers, sunshine x grumpy trope, barista au, christmas au

synopsis: it's winter break and instead of exploring switzerland with your friends, you're unwillingly working in your mom's cafe. to make matters worse, the new hire is a little too clingy and hyper, always adamant on getting you excited for the holiday season, much to your dismay. as you're forced to be around him for more than half of the day, every single day, you learn a thing or two from each other. he smiles for the both of you, whatever you do is enough for him and whatever he does is too much for you. maybe just maybe you could be friends, or perhaps something more?

warnings: kissing, jealousy, flirty!sunoo, family issues, argument, reader is kinda mean, crying,

note: i finally got to write for my biggest crush—sunoo!(I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM) this has a slight hallmark movie vibe because i lovee them. merry christmas!

word count: 10.1k

i love reading your comments and reblogs, so please do so if you liked reading this<3

the plan had been perfect.

switzerland in winter, cozy chalets, the sparkle of snowflakes in the alps, and hot chocolate that was more melted dessert than drink. your friends had already started posting pictures: selfies by frosted windows, snow-covered towns that looked ripped out of postcards, and captions so carefree they stung.

but no. you weren’t in switzerland. you were here, in the cramped kitchen of your mom’s café, drowning in holiday specials and watching other people live out the joy you were supposed to be having.

“do you have to look so miserable?” your mom asked that morning as you trudged downstairs. “you’ll scare away the customers.”

“it’s not my fault i’m stuck here,” you muttered, your words muffled by the scarf you were wrapping around your neck.

your mom sighed but didn’t argue. she didn’t have to. the weight of responsibility—the oldest sibling’s eternal curse—hung heavily between you. when your mom had insisted you stay behind to help with the café’s holiday rush, the conversation hadn’t exactly been open for debate.

“it’s your responsibility,” your mom had said, her voice as unwavering as ever. “you’re the oldest. you understand that, don’t you?”

she’d said it like it was obvious, like it didn’t matter that you’d saved for months or that this was your last winter break before finishing university. your siblings had been conveniently absolved of all obligations, leaving you to pick up the slack.

and now here you were, staring out the café window at holiday shoppers bustling about their merry little lives.

it wasn’t just the lost trip that soured your mood. normally, you liked the holiday season—the warm lights, the scent of cinnamon in the air, the general buzz of joy. but this year, it felt impossible to muster up even a hint of cheer. maybe it was the bitterness of being left behind. or maybe it was the feeling that everyone else got to celebrate while you were stuck doing the thankless work.

whatever it was, you wanted no part of it. no twinkling lights, no jingly music, no forced smiles. if it were up to you, you’d fast-forward straight to january.

suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, snapping you out of your brooding. you straightened up, putting on your polite customer-service face as you prepared to take their order. but the sight that greeted you stopped you cold.

the man standing in the doorway looked like he’d lost a fight with a christmas clearance bin—and lost spectacularly. his coat was a patchwork of red and green, his scarf glittering with snowflake designs, and atop his head sat a ridiculous pom-pom hat that looked like it came straight from santa’s workshop, bouncing with every step.

you squinted at him, wondering how anyone could walk around looking like a walking holiday advertisement and not feel the slightest bit self-conscious. he practically radiated cheer, and you were already bracing yourself for the headache that would inevitably follow when you took his order.

his curious eyes stopped their surveillance once they stopped at you. he lit up and waved at you enthusiastically(his mittens made a soft fwip-fwip sound against the air as he did that, making him look even more adorable ridiculous in your opinion).

“sunoo!” your mom’s delighted voice rang out, cutting through your internal judgment. she emerged from the back, her face lighting up as if he were her long lost son. “you’re early! perfect timing.”

“always early for christmas,” he replied, his voice as bright as his outfit.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together what was happening as your mom motioned for him to come closer.

“sunoo’s going to be helping us out during the holiday rush,” she explained, turning to you with an expectant smile. “isn’t that wonderful?”

wonderful was not the word you would have chosen.

before you could object, sunoo turned his attention to you, his smile widening like he’d just found the best present under the tree.

“hi!” he said, thrusting out a hand. “i’m sunoo. it’s so great to meet you! your mom’s told me all about you.”

“uh.. hi,” you managed, shaking his hand hesitantly.

“she also said you’re going to be showing me the ropes!” he added, his enthusiasm not faltering for even a second.

your mom patted his shoulder approvingly before disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with who could only be described as christmas incarnate himself.

“where should we start?” sunoo asked, looking around the café with sparkling eyes. “drinks? decorations? oh, wait—do i get an apron?”

you blinked at him, trying to process how someone could have this much energy so early in the day. “uh, yeah. apron’s over there,” you muttered, pointing toward the storage cabinet.

as he darted off to grab one, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that this holiday season was about to get a lot more...complicated.

the next few days were nothing short of exhausting and it wasn’t because of the café rush.

it was him.

day one with sunoo was a test of patience.

he wasn’t just enthusiastic—he was relentless. he greeted every customer like an old friend, remembered their names and favorite drinks, and even started a suggestion box for “holiday improvements,” which was quickly overflowing with ideas.

on his second day, came the first incident. while you were preparing an espresso, sunoo decided to take matters into his own hands and “spread holiday cheer.” which apparently meant hanging garlands around the counter while you worked.

"could you not?" you finally snapped as a strand of tinsel landed on your shoulder.

"it’s festive!" he countered, grinning as he perched a tiny santa hat on the espresso machine. "doesn’t it make you feel jollier?"

you glared at him. "i’m plenty jolly."

he blinked innocently. "are you sure? because you’ve been frowning for…well, since i got here."

but it wasn’t just the decorations. sunoo had an uncanny ability to be everywhere at once. whether it was bringing you hot cocoa during your break (“it has marshmallows!”) or attempting to teach you his rendition of “jingle bells” while you prepped the next batch of cookies, he was always there.

“smile more!” he said one afternoon as you handed a cappuccino to a customer.

“i am smiling,” you replied through gritted teeth.

“that’s not a smile. that’s...a grimace,” he teased, leaning in with mock seriousness. “here, watch me.”

he turned to the next customer, flashing a grin so radiant it could have melted an iceberg. “welcome! isn’t it just a great day to treat yourself?”

the customer chuckled, clearly charmed. you, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under the counter and hide.

well yes, you begrudgingly had to admit that his presence had improved the café’s working tremendously. the customers loved him. he remembered names, guessed favorite drinks, and made people laugh. tips flowed into the jar like magic. but he was trying to ruin your plan of not appreciating the holiday season! and you were not going to let that happen.

but, by the end of the week, something shifted.

slowly—very slowly—you had started to tolerate him.

it wasn’t that he stopped being annoying. if anything, his energy seemed to double with each passing day. but somewhere between his absurd carol remixes and the way he handed out extra cookies to kids who looked like they’d been dragged to the café against their will, you found yourself less irritated.

not impressed. definitely not charmed(lies!). just...less annoyed.

but one question lingered at the back of your mind: why? why was he so happy? what made him light up like a human christmas tree every day?

you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer. but as you caught him grinning at a regular customer who’d just handed him a homemade ornament, you couldn’t help but wonder.

the café was quiet as you flipped the sign to "closed" and started tidying up for the night. it had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to finally go home.

just as you locked the register and reached for your coat, the bell above the door jingled. you turned, irritation already bubbling up.

“we’re closed,” you started, but your words faltered when you recognized the man standing there.

“y/n,” your ex-boyfriend said, his smirk as familiar as it was grating. he stepped inside, dressed in a tailored coat that screamed money and arrogance. god, you can’t believe you fell for someone like him as a teenager.

beside him stood a woman teetering on heels that seemed entirely impractical for the icy streets outside. her outfit was bold, to say the least, a mishmash of sequins and faux fur that seemed more suited for a nightclub than a quiet evening in a café.

“oh my gosh,” the girlfriend squealed, twirling a strand of platinum-blonde hair. “babe, is this the little place you were talking about? it’s, like, so...cute!”

your ex casually leaned against the counter you had just wiped, trying to look cool. “i told her about this café. thought we’d stop by, see if you were still here.”

still here? the condescension in his tone made your jaw clench.

“it’s nice to see you’re keeping busy,” he added, his eyes sweeping over you like he was assessing your worth.

you plastered on a polite smile, one you reserved for particularly rude customers. “we’re closed, actually. maybe come back tomorrow.”

“aw, don’t be like that,” he said smoothly, ignoring your words entirely. “i was just telling tiffany here about how we used to hang out all the time. she couldn’t believe it. right, tiff?”

tiffany nodded enthusiastically, chewing gum as she looked around the café. “totally. i mean, you’re, like, so brave for working here. i could never do customer service—ugh, people are just the worst, you know?”

you stared at her, unsure if she was trying to insult you or if she genuinely had no self-awareness.

“i’ve been doing amazing, in case you were wondering. just opened my own tech startup. big investors, huge growth potential. you know how it is—some of us were always meant to do big things.”

he gave you a pointed look, and you felt your jaw tighten.

“and of course, i’ve got tiffany now.” he draped an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders, and she giggled, resting her manicured hand on his chest.

“uh-huh,” you said, folding your arms. “well, congrats. i need to finish closing, so if you don’t mind—”

“oh, don’t rush us,” tiffany said with a pout. “we’re just, like, so fascinated by this little place. did you decorate it yourself? it’s so quaint!”

before you could respond, the door opened again, and in walked sunoo, bundled up in his bright scarf, carrying a bag of cookies.

“there you are!” he said cheerfully, making a beeline for you. he barely glanced at your ex before sliding an arm around your shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “sorry i’m late, babe. got caught up picking these up for you.”

your ex straightened, his brows knitting together. “babe?”

sunoo turned to him, his smile wide. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize you were talking to my girlfriend.”

the word “girlfriend” sent a jolt through you, but sunoo didn’t give you time to react. he extended a hand towards your ex. “i’m sunoo. and you are?”

“her ex-boyfriend,” he replied stiffly, clearly caught off guard.

“oh!” sunoo said, feigning surprise. “well, nice to meet you. guess you’re the one who didn’t see how amazing she is, huh?”

you blinked, your cheeks warming as sunoo turned to tiffany, giving her a polite nod before focusing back on your ex.

“you know, y/n’s been working so hard lately,” sunoo continued, his voice light but deliberate. “between helping out here and pursuing her corporate law degree, she’s just incredible. i mean, it’s not every day you meet someone with brains, ambition, and kindness all rolled into one.”

your ex’s confident smirk faltered, and tiffany’s chewing slowed as she looked at you with newfound confusion.

“she’s studying law?” tiffany asked, wide-eyed.

sunoo nodded, his smile unwavering. “yep. top of her class, too. honestly, i don’t know how she does it. i feel lucky just to be a part of her life.”

your ex opened his mouth, likely to retaliate, but sunoo wasn’t done.

“and she’s so good with people,” sunoo added, looking at you with a softness that made your heart skip a beat. “customers just adore her. i see it every day—her kindness and how much she cares about others. it’s inspiring, really.”

your ex looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, his girlfriend now staring at him with something akin to disappointment.

“and now,” sunoo said, turning back to you, “i think it’s time we head home, don’t you, sweetheart?”

before you could process what was happening, sunoo leaned in and kissed you. it wasn’t a quick peck, nor was it overly dramatic. it was soft, lingering just enough to leave your heart racing and your mind spinning.

when he pulled back, he smiled at you, completely unfazed. “let’s go.”

you nodded, your voice seemingly lost, and allowed him to guide you toward the back.

as soon as you were out of earshot, you whispered, “what the hell was that?”

“that,” he said, grinning, “was me helping you. you’re welcome.”

you wanted to argue, to scold him for his audacity, but instead, all you could do was feel the butterflies in your stomach.

sunoo, ever the cheerful enigma, simply winked at you before heading to the kitchen, leaving you wondering why you couldn’t stop smiling.

the next day at the café began like any other, the morning rush fading into a calm lull as the afternoon light filtered through the frosted windows. you stood behind the counter, idly wiping it down, the hum of soft café music mixing with the faint clinking of dishes being cleaned.

across from you, sunoo was in his usual element, drying a tray of mugs with an ease that felt almost theatrical. he hummed a festive tune under his breath, the kind of annoyingly catchy holiday song you couldn’t escape this time of year. unlike most people, though, he wasn’t out of tune—his voice was smooth, each note light and cheerful.

despite yourself, your eyes drifted toward him. it was hard not to watch the way he worked, his every movement quick yet deliberate. but what caught you the most wasn’t his efficiency—it was his smile.

sunoo had this way of smiling that was entirely his own. it wasn’t just polite or perfunctory; it was warm, genuine, and impossibly bright. whether it was an elderly regular ordering tea or the grumpiest customer throwing a tantrum over a latte, he treated everyone with the same sunny energy, as if he’d been waiting all day just to see them.

you barely noticed your cloth stalling on the counter as your gaze lingered on him. his lips curved up, eyes crinkling at the corners, his entire face lighting up in a way that could rival the café’s twinkling christmas lights.

“earth to y/n!”

his voice jolted you from your thoughts, and your head snapped up to see him standing there, a mug still in one hand, the other waving dramatically in front of your face.

“you’re staring,” he said with a knowing grin, leaning casually against the counter. his apron hung slightly askew, a splash of frothy milk smudged near the edge, but he didn’t seem to care.

“i was not staring,” you shot back, too quickly for your own good. the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you, though, as you fumbled to sound indifferent. “i was zoning out.”

“sure you were,” he teased, his grin widening into something playful, yet somehow unbearably charming. “let me guess—you were thinking about me, huh?”

before you could even process a retort, sunoo moved. he stepped closer, his easy grin never wavering. instinctively, you leaned back, only for your spine to hit the counter behind you. the realization that you were cornered sent your heart into overdrive.

“w-what are you doing?” you stammered, your eyes darting up to meet his.

he was close now, too close. his arm came up, his hand braced against the counter next to your head, the air around you enveloping you in his mouthwatering scent of vanilla and coconut. his other hand still held the mug, but that didn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. the way he leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours—it made your breath hitch. for one wild, utterly ridiculous moment, you thought he was about to kiss you(again?).

but then, with a smooth, almost nonchalant motion, he reached past you and grabbed a washcloth from the counter behind your shoulder.

“got it!” he announced cheerfully, pulling back and holding up the cloth like it was a prize.

you blinked, stunned into silence as your brain scrambled to catch up with reality.

sunoo tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “what? did you think i was gonna—” he paused, letting the suggestion hang in the air, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips.

“no!” you snapped, your voice cracking as you shoved past him to put space between you. “as if!”

his laugh was light, melodic, and thoroughly maddening as he turned back to the mugs, completely unbothered.

you busied yourself with refilling the napkin dispensers, determined to ignore the way your heart was still racing. yet as much as you wanted to brush the whole thing off, you couldn’t help the small, traitorous smile tugging at your lips. and you hated that somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if sunoo had caught it.

later that evening, you found yourself at the door, keys in hand, ready to lock up. the café was quiet, the streets outside eerily calm. the cold had settled in deeper now, a biting wind nipping at your fingers even through your gloves.

as you pulled the door shut and turned the key in the lock, a figure caught your eye. sunoo was leaning casually against the lamppost just outside, his breath visible in small puffs of condensation.

“what are you still doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself to stave off the chill.

he straightened, brushing some snow off his coat. “wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

you froze for a moment, caught completely off guard. “you didn’t have to do that,” you said, though your voice was softer than usual, your usual bite missing.

“i know,” he replied with a shrug, his tone light, almost nonchalant. “but i wanted to.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than they should have been. his sincerity was disarming, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. the light from the streetlamp cast a faint golden glow on his face, catching the warmth in his eyes and the faint pink dusting his cheeks from the cold.

your chest tightened, the realization of how kind he was settling in. it wasn’t a grand gesture, but it felt significant. genuine.

you wondered if he could hear the pounding of your heart in the quiet night, loud and insistent as it was.

“thanks,” you mumbled after a beat, unable to meet his gaze for too long.

he smiled at you, soft and easy. “anytime.”

as you both started walking toward your respective homes, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. there was something about sunoo that you couldn’t quite put your finger on—a warmth that you hadn’t noticed before but suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.

the nightly walks home had become a routine you hadn’t quite agreed to but couldn’t seem to stop either. sunoo, had decided somewhere along the line that you needed a chaperone to make it home safely through the wintry streets. you’d grumbled about it at first, muttering under your breath about his unnecessary chivalry, but over time, you’d grown to expect the sight of him waiting outside the café after closing.

of course, you hadn’t told him that. no, you preferred to keep up your facade of mild annoyance, pretending not to notice how his presence made the cold nights feel a little less lonely.

sunoo, naturally, was undeterred by your grumpiness. if anything, it seemed to fuel his determination to get you into the holiday spirit. one evening, as he walked beside you, humming yet another cheerful christmas tune, he turned to you with a sudden burst of excitement.

“y/n, i just had the best idea!”

you glanced at him warily, already regretting whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “do i even want to know?”

“yes, you do!” he insisted, his grin as bright as the fairy lights strung across the street. “i’m going to teach you my famous christmas cookie recipe!”

you stopped in your tracks, giving him an incredulous look. “your famous christmas cookie recipe? who exactly considers it famous?”

“everyone who’s ever tasted them,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “they’re a holiday masterpiece.”

you couldn’t stop the amused huff that escaped you, though you quickly masked it with a roll of your eyes. “and why, exactly, do i need to learn this ‘masterpiece’ recipe?”

“because,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you need some christmas cheer in your life, and nothing says cheer like baking cookies with me.”

you groaned, already feeling your resolve weakening under his hopeful gaze. “fine,” you muttered, trying to sound begrudging. “but only because i’m curious if they’re actually as good as you claim.”

his cheer was instantaneous. “you won’t regret it!”

the next day, sunoo dragged you to the grocery store and. you trailed behind him, half-heartedly protesting whenever he added something to the cart that wasn’t on the list.

“you’re buying way too much butter,” you pointed out as he tossed another block into the cart.

“you can never have too much butter when it comes to cookies,” he said with a sage nod.

he practically bounced beside you, a walking ball of excitement, clutching a carefully curated shopping list for his "famous" christmas cookies.

“y/n, we need to decide on the chocolate chips,” he said, holding up two bags like they were precious artifacts. “semi-sweet or dark? this is critical.”

you shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest. “it’s your recipe, gordon ramsay. pick whatever.”

he pouted dramatically, clutching his chest. “gordon ramsay? that’s a little harsh. i’m more of a... what’s the name of that really cheerful baker on tv? you know, the one who smiles a lot?”

“sounds like your spirit animal,” you muttered under your breath, though a faint smirk tugged at your lips.

while he deliberated between chocolate options with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb, you wandered off to grab some sugar. as you made your way back toward the cart, a voice called your name.

“y/n? is that really you?”

you turned to find yourself face-to-face with an old high school friend. their warm smile was familiar, even if their fashion choices now had taken a complete 180.

“oh my god, it’s been forever!” they said, pulling you into a quick hug. “how have you been?”

you exchanged pleasantries, updating each other on work and uni life. it was nice, catching up after so long, until their eyes flicked past you.

“wait, who’s that?” they asked, nodding toward sunoo, who was now examining a bottle of vanilla extract like it held the secrets of the universe.

“oh, him?” you said casually, glancing over your shoulder. “that’s just sunoo.”

they raised an eyebrow, their smirk teasing. “just sunoo? he looks like he’s your boyfriend or something.”

“what? no, no,” you said quickly, a little too loudly. “sunoo’s not my boyfriend. god, no. he’s just my coworker. we work at my mom’s café. that’s all.”

your friend gave you a knowing look, the kind that made your cheeks heat. “coworker, huh? he’s got major boyfriend energy. seems sweet.”

“sweet?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “he’s more like a hyperactive puppy. always smiling, always humming, always doing something. it’s exhausting.”

your friend chuckled, clearly enjoying your exasperation.

“and don’t even get me started on his christmas obsession,” you continued, rolling your eyes for effect. “he’s like a walking hallmark movie. i swear, if he could marry a christmas tree, he’d probably do it and throw a wedding with carolers.”

your friend burst out laughing, egging you on. “does he sing christmas songs all the time too?”

“constantly,” you replied with mock suffering. “if i hear ‘jingle bells’ one more time, i’m going to lose it. it’s like he’s got a jukebox in his head that’s stuck on holiday mode.”

the two of you laughed, exchanging more exaggerated and judgmental quips about sunoo’s overly cheerful demeanor. but then, as your laughter faded, you caught sight of something—or rather, someone—out of the corner of your eye.

sunoo was standing there, a bag of flour in one arm and a bottle of vanilla extract in the other. his bright smile, the one you’d always teased him for, was gone. in its place was an expression you’d never seen on him before—hurt, raw and unguarded.

“sunoo,” you started, your voice weak and unsure.

he blinked, his eyes darting between you and your friend, as though piecing together everything he’d just overheard. then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his steps brisk and unsteady.

“wait, sunoo—” you took a step toward him, but he didn’t stop, his figure disappearing around the corner.

your friend shifted awkwardly beside you. “uh... i think i’ll let you handle that. good luck.” they offered an apologetic smile before retreating, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

the guilt hit you like a freight train. you replayed every word you’d said, each one now twisting like a knife. you hadn’t meant to be cruel, not really, but hearing it all in retrospect made you wince.

you stood there in the middle of the aisle, the festive chaos of the store blurring around you, and all you could think about was the devastated look on sunoo’s face. for someone who always wore his heart on his sleeve, you’d just managed to break it without even trying.

and now, you had no idea how to fix it.

the café felt colder than usual, and it had nothing to do with the weather. sunoo, the walking ray of sunshine who once filled every corner with warmth and holiday cheer, had dimmed entirely. it started the day after the grocery store incident. he no longer greeted you with his annoyingly bright smile or playfully nudged you when you were grumbling about the customers. instead, he was polite—frigidly so.

“good morning,” you said tentatively as you walked in for your shift.

“morning,” he replied without looking up from the espresso machine, his tone flat.

no teasing. no humming. not even a sarcastic remark about you being late again. just a curt acknowledgment, followed by silence.

you couldn’t deny it—it stung. you thought back to the way he used to coax reluctant smiles from customers, how he would hum festive tunes so loudly you’d complain, and how his energy made the café feel like a holiday movie set. now, he did his job mechanically, avoiding unnecessary conversation with you and barely engaging with anyone else.

the decorations he had painstakingly hung felt like they belonged to a different world. they no longer carried the magic they once did.

at first, you told yourself this was what you wanted—a quiet, sunoo-free workspace where you could brood in peace. but it wasn’t peace you felt. it was guilt. crushing, suffocating guilt.

even though sunoo seemed hellbent on giving you the cold shoulder, he still made sure you reached home safely. your evening walks were not the same anymore, with him trailing a few metres behind you instead of him usually sticking right to your side. you couldn’t help but feel even worse. even after you had been inconsiderate about his feelings, he still cared.

one day, during a rare lull, you approached him, the desire to fix things clawing at your chest. you were generally awkward with apologies but you had to try your best. he was wiping down the counter with that same forced nonchalance, eyes focused on the towel, not sparing you even a glance.

“sunoo,” you started, your voice small, breaking the silence between you. “i… i wanted to say sorry about what happened. i didn’t mean—”

“it’s fine,” he interrupted, finally looking up with an expression that was almost unreadable. “don’t worry about it.”

but you could tell it wasn’t fine. it wasn’t fine at all. the tension in his jaw, the lack of the usual warmth in his eyes—it was all proof that you had hurt him more than you realised.

that afternoon, a customer—a girl around your age—came in and ordered a latte. she was attractive, dressed in trendy winter clothes, her hair a perfect cascade of curls despite the weather. you barely registered her order, too preoccupied with the way sunoo’s demeanor had shifted as soon as she walked up. he leaned over the counter with a smile that was just a touch more dazzling than usual, his eyes bright with that cheerful, carefree light you hadn’t seen in days.

“oh, you’re so good at making latte art!” she said with a little laugh, eyes wide as she watched him.

sunoo chuckled, a sound that came so easily, so naturally, it made something sour twist in your stomach. “thanks. i’ve had a lot of practice. what’s your favorite design?”

“oh, anything cute! maybe a heart?”

you clenched your jaw. the way he laughed, the way he looked at her, it was like the last few days had never happened. he was back to being the sunoo who had brightened every corner of the café, the same sunoo you’d ignored and pushed away. a storm of irritation and something deeper bubbled inside you.

you couldn’t help yourself. marching over, you interrupted their conversation, “sunoo, the tables need wiping. i’ll finish this order,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

he looked at you, his smile fading as quickly as it had come. for a moment, you thought he might argue, but instead, he stepped back and handed you the steaming cup. “sure,” he said quietly, walking away without another word.

the customer looked at you, slightly startled, but you avoided her gaze, focusing on finishing the latte art. your hand trembled slightly as you poured the milk, frustrated at yourself for the way your emotions had spiraled out of control.

this wasn’t like you. you weren’t the type to get jealous, especially not over someone like sunoo, who you’d spent weeks convincing yourself was nothing more than a coworker.

the silence that followed felt deafening, and the rest of the shift passed in a haze. every time you looked at him, he looked away. every time you spoke to him, he responded with clipped, polite words, his voice void of warmth. he was now a shadow of the sunoo you had known, and it was your fault.

and the worst part? you missed it. you missed him.

every day, the weight of your guilt grew heavier, and with it, the realization that you hadn’t just been cruel—you’d hurt someone who had only ever tried to brighten your world.

you wanted to fix things, but you didn’t know how. every attempt to reach out was met with silence, and every smile he gave someone else felt like another nail in the coffin of what you had ruined.

the festive tunes in the café continued to play, but now, they felt hollow, much like the ache in your chest.

that night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ache of regret clawing at your chest. the guilt was like an icy chain around your ribs, squeezing tighter with every passing minute. you could still picture the smile he had given the girl, so carefree, so genuine, and the way he had walked away from you, a hint of defeat in his posture.

the next day, he was back to avoiding you, treating you like a stranger he’d once known. you watched, helpless, as he poured that same energy into talking to customers, chatting with people as if he hadn’t lost himself in the process. it hurt more than you thought it could.

the coldness extended past the café. sunoo’s laughter seemed to be reserved for everyone but you, and you watched as the cheerful light he carried dimmed even further. it made you wonder if you had lost something you didn’t even know you wanted.

the day had been relentless. the café buzzed from the early hours with orders flying in and customers bustling through, each interaction adding another layer to your growing frustration. by mid-afternoon, you were running on fumes, barely holding it together as the weight of responsibility pressed down on you.

it wasn’t just today. it had been like this for weeks. ever since your mom insisted you stay back during winter break to help with the café, it felt like you’d been drowning in expectations. and somehow, the family seemed perfectly content to let you struggle.

you caught sight of your younger siblings in the corner booth, lounging with their phones in hand, sharing quiet laughs. the image stung. while you juggled orders, cleaned counters, and played the perfect hostess, they enjoyed carefree moments, untouched by the demands that seemed to fall squarely on your shoulders.

by the time you escaped to the back room, your patience was hanging by a thread. you slammed a tray of used mugs onto the counter harder than you meant to, and the sharp clang echoed in the small space.

“do you have to make such a racket?” your mom’s voice came from behind you. she stepped into the room, her hands busy with a clipboard, completely unfazed by your obvious distress.

your control snapped. “maybe if someone else around here actually helped me, i wouldn’t have to,” you retorted, spinning around to face her.

she paused, her eyes narrowing. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i’m exhausted, mom,” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i’m doing everything—running the counter, cleaning up, dealing with customers—and for what? so everyone else can just sit back and relax?”

“don’t be dramatic,” she said, her tone clipped. “i’ve been working just as much as you.”

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “are you serious right now? i haven’t seen you take a single order all day. and don’t even get me started on them,” you gestured toward the café, where your siblings were still parked, oblivious to the world around them. “they get to sit around doing nothing while i’m running myself into the ground.”

“they’re younger,” your mom said flatly. “you’re the oldest. you should know better by now.”

the words cut deep, sharper than you expected. “so what? that means i don’t get to have a life? i don’t get to enjoy a break like everyone else?” your voice wavered, anger and hurt intertwining. “you expect me to just give and give, and no one cares about what i need.”

“stop being so ungrateful and selfish all the time,” she snapped, her eyes hardening. “this is your family. you do what’s necessary.”

her words hit like a physical blow, and you staggered back a step, the air knocked out of you. selfish? after everything you’d done?

she didn’t wait for a response, brushing past you and leaving the room without a backward glance.

the silence that followed was suffocating. you stood frozen, your chest heaving as the tears burned behind your eyes. you tried to fight them, but the weight of her words, of everything, was too much.

your legs gave out, and you sank to the cold floor, pulling your knees to your chest as the first sob broke free. it came in waves, uncontrollable and raw, until you buried your face in your arms, muffling the sound.

you weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. time seemed to blur, your thoughts spiraling in the same vicious cycle of frustration and hurt. the ache in your chest felt unbearable, like a storm raging inside with no signs of clearing.

then, faintly, you heard footsteps. they stopped near you, hesitating, before a familiar voice called softly, “y/n?”

you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. but then you felt it—a warm, steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

when you finally lifted your head, your tear-filled eyes met sunoo’s. his usual brightness was dimmed, replaced with an expression so soft and concerned that it made your chest tighten all over again.

he didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you. then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. the action was gentle, almost hesitant, but as soon as you felt the warmth of his embrace, you broke all over again.

your fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something solid as the tears came harder. “i’m so tired,” you whispered against his chest, your voice cracking.

“i know,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “i know.”

his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow circles that seemed to ease the ache just a little. he smelled his signature scent of vanilla and coconut, a scent so comforting it made you lean into him further, seeking out the solace he offered.

sunoo didn’t let go. not when your tears soaked into his shirt, not when your breath hitched as you tried to form words between sobs. he stayed there, holding you, his warmth anchoring you in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

eventually, the tears slowed, leaving you shuddering against him. he didn’t rush you or ask questions, just kept his hand moving in those soothing circles on your back, his presence steady and unwavering. it was only when your breathing evened out that he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you want to talk about it?”

for a moment, you hesitated. but then, the weight of everything—the years of bottled-up frustration, resentment, and heartache—came spilling out.

“it’s just… it’s so much,” you began, your voice hoarse from crying. “being the oldest, it’s like… it’s like my life stopped being mine the moment dad left.”

sunoo’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed its comforting rhythm, encouraging you to continue.

you sniffled, swiping at your damp cheeks. “he just—he ran off with some rich woman when i was sixteen, like we didn’t matter to him at all. mom was devastated, and suddenly, it felt like i had to grow up overnight. taking care of my siblings, helping with the café, picking up the pieces he left behind…” your voice cracked, and you bit your lip, trying to hold it together.

“and now it’s like nothing’s changed,” you went on, your words tumbling out faster. “mom still leans on me for everything. the café, the house, the family—it’s always me. i can’t even remember the last time i did something just for myself.”

sunoo didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. he just listened, his gaze fixed on you with such unwavering focus that it made your chest ache in a different way.

“and today—today was just the last straw,” you admitted, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “i feel like i’m suffocating, sunoo. like no matter how much i give, it’s never enough. and it’s so… so lonely.”

you looked away, ashamed of your outburst, but his arms tightened around you. “you’re not alone,” he said softly, his voice steady. “not anymore.”

that simple promise unraveled something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “and i’m sorry. for everything. for being so mean to you, for judging you when i didn’t even know you, for acting like a total brat.”

sunoo blinked, his expression softening even further, but you didn’t let him speak yet. “i know i’ve been awful,” you continued, your words spilling over each other in a frantic rush. “and you’ve been nothing but kind, and here i am, all snotty and messy and—”

“y/n,” he interrupted gently, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“and i probably look terrible right now,” you rambled on, ignoring his soft chuckle. “like, who wants to deal with this?” you gestured vaguely to your tear-streaked face and disheveled appearance.

“y/n,” he said again, a little firmer this time, his hand brushing against your cheek.

you froze, finally meeting his eyes. they were impossibly warm, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but that made your breath catch all the same.

“you’re perfect,” he said simply, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear.

and then, before you could process his words, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was soft at first, hesitant, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. but when you didn’t—when you found yourself leaning into him instead—it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a warmth that chased away every lingering shadow of doubt and hurt.

you melted into him, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had felt so unsteady. the kiss was everything you didn’t know you needed—comforting, electrifying, and completely disarming all at once.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the quiet of the room.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

you stared at him, still dazed, your fingers brushing your lips as if trying to hold onto the feeling. “you… you kissed me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“i did,” he said, his smile growing. “and if i had known it would shut you up, i might’ve done it sooner.”

a laugh bubbled up in your chest despite yourself, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness inside you lifted.

“i don’t think i deserve you, sunoo,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

he tilted your chin up gently, his expression earnest. “then it’s a good thing i get to decide that, isn’t it?”

and just like that, with sunoo’s arms still wrapped around you and the lingering warmth of his kiss, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

the next morning, you found yourself standing outside the café, shivering in the early chill. snow blanketed the ground, sparkling under the soft glow of the streetlights. the café wasn’t open yet, and you were earlier than usual, clutching a small box in your hands. the carefully wrapped gift felt heavier than it should, the weight of nerves pressing down on you.

inside the box was a collection of little things that reminded you of sunoo: a cheerful snowman mug, a candle that smelled like warm sugar cookies, and a pair of bright green fuzzy mittens. they weren’t much, but they were chosen with care—a way to apologise properly, to show him you understood now just how much he meant to you.

the quiet street stretched around you, peaceful but lonely. you rocked back and forth on your heels, trying to shake off the morning cold and the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. what if he didn’t accept the gift? what if he was still upset?

before you could spiral further, you heard footsteps crunching in the snow. turning, you saw him walking toward you, his breath visible in the frosty air. he wasn’t wearing his usual bright smile, but the sight of him was enough to make your chest ache.

“y/n?” he called out, stopping a few steps away. “what are you doing here so early?”

“i, uh…” you hesitated, holding the box tighter. “i wanted to see you.”

his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “really?”

wordlessly, you held the gift out to him, your breath hitching as he stared at it. slowly, he reached out and took it, his fingers brushing yours.

“what’s this?” he asked, his tone soft.

“an apology,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “for everything. for being mean to you, for not appreciating you sooner, for—just open it.”

sunoo glanced at you, then down at the box. he tugged the ribbon loose and carefully peeled back the paper, his movements deliberate. when he saw the contents, his expression shifted, his eyes widening as a genuine smile began to spread across his face.

“you got me mittens?” he exclaimed, holding them up like they were a treasure. “and this mug—it’s so cute! and a candle?” he brought it to his nose and sniffed, his grin widening even more. “it smells amazing!”

the brightness in his reaction melted the last of your nerves, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“i thought they’d suit you,” you said quietly, feeling a little silly now but also oddly proud.

“suit me?” he repeated, his tone playful. “y/n, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s given me in a long time.”

before you could react, he closed the distance between you in one swift motion.

“wait—sunoo!”

but he didn’t wait. he scooped you up effortlessly, spinning you around in the snow. the world blurred for a moment, the sound of your surprised laugh ringing out as he twirled you like you weighed nothing at all.

“put me down!” you cried, though your laughter betrayed any real protest.

“not until you promise you’ll stop being so hard on yourself,” he said, his voice full of warmth and mischief.

“okay, okay! i promise!”

he set you down at last, but your balance wavered, and the two of you tumbled into the snow together, a heap of giggles and cold breaths.

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing snow off your coat.

“impossible to stay mad at, right?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow beside you. his grin was as dazzling as ever, and it was contagious.

you rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. “yeah, yeah. don’t let it go to your head, sunoo.”

“too late,” he quipped, tossing a handful of snow at you.

what followed was an impromptu snowball fight that left both of you breathless, your cheeks pink from the cold and the laughter. by the time the café was ready to open, you’d built a lopsided snowman and shared stories over hot cocoa.

as you sat across from him, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, you realized something else had thawed—your carefully guarded heart. sunoo had done more than bring holiday cheer into your life; he’d brought a warmth you hadn’t known you were missing.

over the next few days, things between you and sunoo took on a rhythm you hadn’t expected. there was no big moment when it all changed, no grand confessions. it just sort of happened. in the middle of the busy café, amidst the noise of espresso machines and the chatter of customers, the two of you found your own little world, filled with unspoken understanding and a quiet kind of comfort.

despite your shy nature, sunoo was anything but reserved. he was touchy, cuddly, and so unapologetically confident in his affection that it left you flustered at least twice an hour.

one morning, you were at the counter, meticulously preparing an intricate coffee order for a regular. concentrating on the froth, you didn’t even hear him approach.

suddenly, his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. the warmth of his body against your back startled you, and you nearly dropped the milk frother.

“good morning to you, too,” he murmured softly near your ear, his voice low and teasing.

“sunoo,” you hissed, your cheeks burning as you glanced around the café. thankfully, it was mostly empty, save for the regular who seemed too engrossed in their phone to notice. “what are you doing?”

“giving my girlfriend some love,” he said matter-of-factly, resting his chin on your shoulder. his hold on you was secure but gentle, and you couldn’t ignore how solid he felt.

your brain scrambled as you became hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his hands fit around your waist, the way his sweater couldn’t completely hide the firmness of his chest and arms.

you tried to maintain your composure, focusing on pouring the steamed milk into the cup. “you’re distracting me,” you mumbled, your voice shakier than you’d intended.

“oh?” his tone was pure mischief now, and you could practically hear the grin on his face. “didn’t know i had that kind of effect on you, y/n.”

“stop,” you groaned, half-horrified and half-flustered, trying to wriggle free from his hold.

but he just tightened his arms slightly, chuckling. “not a chance. you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

your heart pounded in your chest as you finished the order, sunoo still clinging to you like a human koala. when you finally handed the coffee to the customer, you turned to him with an exasperated glare.

“happy now?” you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“very,” he replied, his bright smile disarming you completely.

moments like these became a regular occurrence. sunoo had no concept of personal space, especially when it came to you, and he seemed to revel in how easily he could fluster you. whether it was sneaking up behind you to steal a kiss on your cheek while you were stocking shelves, lacing your fingers together under the table during your lunch break, or leaning in close just to whisper something playful and teasing—he was unabashedly, wholeheartedly himself.

at first, you didn’t know how to handle it. the warmth of his attention made you feel vulnerable, exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. but it also made you feel… cherished, like you were the only person in his world.

one afternoon, you were wiping down tables when he plopped down in a chair nearby, resting his chin in his hands as he watched you.

“what are you staring at now?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.

“my beautiful girlfriend,” he said with a grin so sincere it made your chest ache.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you’re still with me.”

despite your best efforts to stay composed, sunoo always managed to draw out the softer, shyer side of you. and though it terrified you to be so open, so seen, it also filled you with a kind of warmth you’d never known before—like stepping into the sunlight after a long winter.

the warm light of sunoo’s home bathed the living room in a soft glow, creating a sense of comfort that seemed almost too perfect. the scent of cinnamon and roasted vegetables filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of christmas carols playing in the background. laughter and the sound of clinking glasses bubbled up around you, and it was hard to believe you were even there, in this place that felt so full of warmth and life.

sunoo had invited you and your mother to an early christmas dinner at his house a few days ago. you had come alone, expecting your mom to stay home after the fight you’d had earlier that week. she’d been sharp with her words, and you’d spent the past few days wrapped in the solitude of your thoughts, wondering if things would ever be the same between you two. but now, as you glanced around at the smiling faces, the feel of this home settled into your chest in a way that was almost foreign, yet achingly familiar.

sunoo’s family, full of kindness and easygoing laughter, was everything that you’d never had. being the youngest child had given sunoo a softness that showed in everything he did—the way he laughed too loudly, the way he clapped his hands when he was excited, the way he instinctively reached for your hand when he wanted to share a joke. it was clear that love had been poured into him without question, without the burden of responsibility or guilt.

the warmth of that realisation grew inside you as dinner was served. sunoo’s father sat at the head of the table, telling stories that made everyone chuckle, while his mother bustled around, her hands full of serving spoons and platters. the room was a symphony of family, love, and shared history. it made you long for that kind of life, for that kind of belonging.

just as you were helping pass a dish of mashed potatoes, the doorbell chimed. sunoo, who had been sitting next to you, turned to look at you with a smile. “can you get that, y/n?”

you nodded, a little confused, and stood up, making your way to the front door. when you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. there, standing in the cool night air with a basket of homemade goodies balanced in her arms, was your mom.

“mom?” you said, voice catching. she looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her, eyes wide and a little uncertain. but then she took a deep breath, stepping into the house with an air of resolve.

“hello, y/n,” she said, offering a soft smile that reached her eyes. she turned to the room beyond, where sunoo’s family was looking at her with curiosity. “merry christmas, everyone,” she said warmly, her voice more steady than you’d expected.

sunoo’s mother, surprised at the unexpected guest, beamed as she ushered her in. “merry christmas! we’re so glad you came.”

you stood there, feeling a flutter of hope. your mom walked past you, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as if to say, can we talk? you nodded, your heart pounding as she led you away from the bustling room.

she took you to a corner by the window, where the soft light from outside fell on both of you, mingling with the glow of the christmas tree. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you heard the sounds of laughter in the other room—the clinking of glasses, sunoo’s voice as he said something that made everyone laugh.

finally, your mom broke the silence. “y/n, i’ve been thinking a lot about us, and how i’ve let you down. when your dad left, i was lost, and i leaned on you for strength when you were just a kid yourself. i didn’t see how it affected you; i only saw my own pain. i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to carry everything alone.”

her voice cracked, and she reached out, pulling you into a hug. you let yourself melt into her embrace, the weight of years of resentment and unspoken words finally falling away. a tear escaped, then another, as you let yourself feel everything you hadn’t allowed yourself to before—the hurt, the longing, and the relief.

“i’m sorry too, mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to say it, but i needed you to know i was scared. i was so scared of turning out like… like everything i didn’t want.”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glistening. “you’re not like that, y/n. you’re everything i could have hoped for, and more. i love you.”

“i love you too,” you said, your voice finally steady, the words feeling right and true. the basket of treats she’d brought had slipped from her grasp, forgotten as you both shared this moment that seemed to heal everything at once.

there was a noise from behind you—a soft cough. sunoo stood at the end of the hallway, a warm smile on his face. his eyes met yours and then shifted to your mom, who was still holding you close.

“everything okay?” he asked, voice soft.

you nodded, a tiny smile breaking through your tears. “yeah, everything’s perfect.”

sunoo stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. it felt like everything was right, and the past had been forgiven, making way for something better.

as the sound of laughter swelled behind you, you knew that this was a new beginning. and in that moment, you felt loved, not just by sunoo but by the family you had always dreamed of, and by the one that was learning to be there for you, piece by piece.

BONUS SCENE!

it’s christmas morning, and for once, the café is closed. you wake up to a rare, quiet morning, the kind that feels like it could stretch on forever. snow blankets the world outside, muffling every sound and adding a serene glow to the sky.

just as you’re about to head downstairs, you hear the faint sound of shuffling outside your front door. curiosity piqued, you open it to find a very familiar figure standing there, bundled up in a bright scarf and holding a giant thermos. sunoo grins up at you, cheeks pink from the cold, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“merry christmas!” he chirps, holding up the thermos.

you stare at him, confused but already smiling. “sunoo, what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be with your family?”

he shrugs, his grin never faltering. “already had breakfast with them. besides, i wanted to see you.”

your heart does a little flip at his words, and before you can respond, he’s nudging past you, making his way into the living room like he’s lived here his whole life.

“wait,” you say, following him. “what’s in the thermos?”

“patience,” he says, wagging a finger at you. he sets the thermos down on the coffee table, pulling out two mugs he somehow managed to balance in his coat pocket. “sit.”

you reluctantly sink into the couch, watching as he pours steaming hot chocolate into both mugs. he even pulls out a tiny bag of marshmallows, which makes you laugh. “you’re ridiculous,” you mutter.

“and you love it,” he retorts, passing you a mug before plopping down next to you, so close that your knees bump.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping the hot chocolate as the snow falls outside. you catch yourself stealing glances at him—at the way his lashes frame his eyes, the way his nose scrunches up when he takes a particularly hot sip.

as you’re lost in thought, sunoo suddenly turns to you, catching you mid-stare. “what?” he asks, his tone playful but soft.

“nothing,” you say quickly, your cheeks warming.

he leans closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “were you admiring me?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

sunoo laughs, setting his mug down before reaching out to tug the edge of the blanket draped over your shoulders. “come here,” he says, pulling you closer until you’re tucked against his side.

“you’re so bossy,” you mumble, but you don’t resist, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“only for you,” he replies, pressing a light kiss to your hair.

you look up at him, something warm and fluttery building in your chest. his gaze drops to your lips for just a second, and your breath catches. before you can overthink it, sunoo leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss so sweet and gentle it feels like a snowflake melting on your skin.

when he pulls back, his eyes search yours, a soft smile spreading across his face. “merry christmas, y/n,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“merry christmas,” you reply, your voice shaky but your heart steady.

he grins and presses his forehead to yours, his fingers playing with the hem of the blanket. “so, do i get a thank you for the hot chocolate and the kiss, or…?”

you laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “don’t push your luck.”

but when he leans back and pulls you closer, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 29 days ago

Text

Threes a Formula

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Y/n celebrates New years with the Wolffs but also faces the challenge of navigating the complexities of her growing relationship with the Wolff family, balancing her role as Jack's nanny with unexpected moments that blur the lines

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff x Nanny!reader

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff in the beginning. Later; 18+, cursing, age gap relationship, smut, Daddy kink, Mommy kink.

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

Also happy Birthday Toto

_________________________________________________

Chapter 6: Between the Lines

Y/n wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck as she stepped out of the car, the crisp Austrian air nipping at her cheeks. Snow blanketed the landscape, turning the world into a picturesque winter wonderland. She had just returned from celebrating Christmas with her family in Germany and was now ready to welcome the New Year with the Wolff family at their chalet in the Alps.

Toto and Susie Wolff stood by the entrance, warmly bundled in their winter coats. Jack was the first to spot her, his face lighting up as he dashed towards her.

Toto and Susie approached with smiles. "Welcome, Y/n," Toto said, his deep voice filled with genuine warmth. He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze that lingered a moment longer than usual. Susie followed suit, wrapping her arm around Y/n’s waist in a friendly yet lingering manner.

"We've missed you. Ready for some skiing?" Susie asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/n smiled, her heart fluttering at their touch, though a pang of nerves crept in. She hadn’t mentioned that she had never skied before. "Absolutely," she replied, masking her anxiety.

“Y/n!” Jack’s excited voice echoed through the air as he rushed toward her.

“Jack!” Y/n dropped her bags, opening her arms wide to catch him in a warm hug. She lifted him slightly off the ground, spinning him around with a laugh. “I missed you so much, little man! Look how much you’ve grown!”

Jack giggled, clinging to her tightly. “I missed you too! Did you have a good Christmas?”

“I did, thank you! But I’ve been dying to hear all about yours. Tell me everything!” Y/n said, placing Jack back on the ground but keeping a hand on his shoulder as they walked inside.

As soon as they were inside and settled in the warm living room, Y/n perched on the edge of the couch, pulling Jack close. “Okay, spill the beans. What did the christkind bring you this year?”

Jack’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Oh, so many cool things! I got a new LEGO set—it’s a racing car! And then the christkind brought me a remote-controlled car that goes super fast. Dad helped me set it up, and it’s amazing!”

“Wow, that sounds awesome!” Y/n replied, her face lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. “You’ll have to show me later. What else did you get?”

Jack continued, his voice filled with joy. “Mom and Dad gave me this really cool racing jacket, just like the ones the drivers wear. And Grandma and Grandpa sent me a huge box of chocolates and a puzzle.”

Y/n smiled, imagining Jack’s excitement as he opened each gift. “It sounds like you had an amazing Christmas. Did you get to spend time with your friends too?”

Jack nodded eagerly. “Yes, we had a big Christmas party with my friends. We played games, and I even showed them my new car. Everyone loved it!”

Y/n beamed at him, her heart swelling with affection. “I’m so happy you had such a wonderful time, Jack. You deserve it. And now we get to have even more fun here in Austria!”

Jack’s smile widened. “Yes! And I have to show you the snowman I made yesterday. He’s huge!”

“I can’t wait to see him,” Y/n said, ruffling Jack’s hair affectionately. “But first, how about some hot chocolate to warm up from the cold?”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please!”

______________________________________________________________

Y/n adjusted her ski goggles and tightened the straps on her boots, standing at the base of the snowy mountain. The morning air was crisp, the sky a brilliant shade of blue, and the excitement around her was palpable. Toto, Susie, and Jack stood nearby, chatting animatedly about the upcoming run. Y/n’s stomach fluttered with nerves, but she forced a confident smile.

"You ready, Y/n?" Toto asked, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. His touch was warm and reassuring, but it only amplified her internal anxiety.

"Of course," Y/n replied, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t told them she had never skied before, not wanting to seem out of place or disrupt the family’s plans. When Susie suggested they skip the beginner slopes and head straight for the regular ones, Y/n had nodded along, her heart pounding.

The group moved to the ski lift, and soon they were ascending the mountain. Y/n tried to soak in the stunning views of the snow-covered peaks and valleys, but her mind was racing with thoughts of the descent.

At the top, Toto and Susie skied gracefully ahead, with Jack not far behind, his small frame expertly maneuvering through the snow. Y/n took a deep breath and pushed off, immediately feeling the lack of control as her skis wobbled beneath her. She struggled to keep her balance, her arms flailing as she tried to mimic the others.

Within seconds, Y/n lost control and tumbled into the snow, her skis crossing awkwardly as she landed in an ungraceful heap. She heard Jack’s infectious laughter echoing through the air, followed by Susie and Toto chuckling as they skied back to her.

"Are you alright?" Susie asked, her eyes filled with amusement as she knelt beside Y/n, helping her untangle her skis.

"Y/n, that was quite the show," Toto teased, his tone light but caring. He reached down, pulling her to her feet with ease. His hands lingered on her arms, steadying her as she found her footing again.

Y/n dusted the snow off her jacket, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I’m fine, just…a little rusty," she said, forcing a laugh.

"You’re doing great," Susie assured her, giving Y/n a gentle squeeze around the waist. "We’ve all been there. Just take it slow and find your rhythm."

Despite their encouragement, Y/n continued to struggle. Each attempt down the slope ended in a clumsy fall, her skis going in opposite directions or getting caught in the snow. Jack’s laughter filled the air each time, and soon, even Toto and Susie couldn’t contain their mirth.

By the time they reached the bottom of the slope, Y/n was exhausted and covered in snow. She leaned on her ski poles, catching her breath as the others gathered around.

"You know," Y/n began, looking at Susie with a wry smile, "I think I’m more of a wellness and après-ski type of girl."

Susie burst into laughter, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. "I think we can arrange that. But you’ve been a trooper, and that’s what counts."

Toto grinned, patting Y/n’s back. "We’ll make a skier out of you yet. For now, let’s head to the lodge for some well-earned hot chocolate."

The next few days were a mix of laughter and determination. Y/n continued to attempt the slopes, each fall less embarrassing as she embraced the fun of it. Susie captured videos of Y/n’s failed attempts, promising to make a humorous compilation, while Y/n documented the family’s moments, snapping candid photos and behind-the-scenes clips for Susie and her Instagram.

When Jack’s ski tournament arrived, Y/n was the loudest cheerleader on the sidelines. She watched with pride as Jack raced down the slope, his technique flawless and his confidence inspiring. When he crossed the finish line first, the family erupted in cheers.

Later, back at the chalet, Y/n snapped a photo of Jack, Toto, and Susie, their arms wrapped around each other, faces glowing with pride and happiness. "For our Instagram," Y/n said, capturing the perfect shot.

Susie leaned into Y/n, showing her the video of one of her earlier falls. "This one is definitely going in the blooper reel."

Y/n laughed, playfully nudging Susie. "As long as it makes people smile."

______________________________________________________________

The moment Benedict and Rosa arrived, the atmosphere in the chalet became even more vibrant. Y/n and Jack were in the kitchen decorating cookies when they heard the car pull up outside. Jack's face lit up, and he dashed toward the door, shouting, "They're here!".

Y/n smiled, wiping her hands on a towel as she followed him to the door. She could hear excited chatter even before the door opened. As soon as Jack flung it open, Benedict and Rosa stepped inside, their faces bright with joy.

"Hey, Buddy!" Benedict laughed, lifting Jack off the ground in a bear hug.

"Hast du uns vermisst?" (Did you miss us?) he asked as he set Jack down.

"Jaaaaa!" (Yeeees!) Jack beamed, his small hands clinging to Benedict’s arm.

Jack turned to Rosa, who leaned down to give him a hug. "Ich muss euch so viel zeigen!" (I have so much to show you!) he exclaimed excitedly.

"Wir haben dich auch vermisst, Jack," (We missed you too, Jack.) Rosa smiled warmly, her arms wrapped around him.

Y/n approached, her grin widening at the sight of the siblings’ reunion. "Schön, euch beide wiederzusehen," (good to see you both again.) she greeted, stepping closer.

Benedict turned to her, his face lighting up. "Y/n! Auch schön, dich zu sehen. Wie war dein Weihnachten?" (Y/n! Great to see you too. How was your Christmas?) he asked, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Es war wunderschön, danke," (It was lovely, thank you.) Y/n replied, turning to give Rosa a quick hug as well. "Aber ich habe mich darauf gefreut, euch zu sehen. Jack hat die ganze Zeit über euch gesprochen." (I’ve been looking forward to seeing you guys. Jack’s been talking about you nonstop.)

Rosa chuckled, patting Jack on the back. "Er ist der Beste. Es ist schön ein bisschen Zeit zusammen zu verbringen, bevor das neue Jahr beginnt." (He’s the best. We’re excited to spend some time together before the New Year.)

At that moment, Toto and Susie walked into the foyer, their faces brightening at the sight of the children. Toto immediately enveloped Benedict and Rosa in a warm hug.

"Willkommen, ihr beiden. Wir haben auf euch gewartet," (Welcome, you two. We’ve been waiting for you.) Toto said, his voice filled with affection.

Susie stepped forward, pulling them both into a tight embrace. "Schön das ihr es geschafft habt," she said softly. (Nice that you made it.)

The house quickly filled with laughter as they settled in, sharing stories and catching up on the past few days. Jack, ever eager for attention, tugged at Benedict and Rosa, urging them toward the backyard.

"Kommt schon, ihr müsst meinen Schneemann sehen und mein neues Auto!" (Come on, you have to see my snowman and my new car!) Jack exclaimed, pulling them along.

Y/n chuckled, following them outside.

______________________________________________________________

The morning of New Year’s Eve dawned clear and crisp in the Austrian Alps, sunlight streaming through the large windows of the Wolff family’s chalet. Y/n stirred in her bed, the soft warmth of the covers cocooning her as she slowly opened her eyes. Jack’s laughter echoed through the hallways, a sign that the day had already begun.

Y/n stretched and got out of bed, her feet sinking into the plush carpet as she made her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she dressed warmly in a cozy sweater and jeans, ready to face the day’s chill. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries wafted through the chalet, leading her to the kitchen.

Susie was bustling about, preparing breakfast with an ease that spoke of years of practice. “Good morning, Y/n!” she greeted with a bright smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Morning, Susie. Yes, I did, thank you,” Y/n replied, returning the smile as she reached for a cup of coffee.

Toto appeared moments later, already dressed for the day in casual yet stylish winter attire. “Good morning, Y/n,” he greeted, his voice warm and steady. “We’re heading out for some skiing today. Would you like to join us?”

Y/n hesitated, the thought of admitting her lack of skiing experience making her stomach flutter with nerves. “I think I’ll stay back and enjoy the wellness facilities today,” she said with a soft laugh, trying to keep her tone light.

Susie chuckled. “That sounds lovely. You’ll have the chalet all to yourself for a bit. It’s the perfect chance to relax.”

Y/n nodded, relieved by their understanding. “Exactly. I’ll be here to capture all the behind-the-scenes moments when you return.”

The family finished breakfast and soon departed for the slopes, leaving Y/n alone in the serene chalet. She spent the morning leisurely, enjoying the peace and quiet. After a long soak in the hot tub, she wrapped herself in a plush robe and curled up in front of the fireplace with a book. The soft crackle of the fire and the panoramic view of the snow-covered landscape created a tranquil ambiance that Y/n cherished.

In the afternoon, she set to work capturing content for their social media, preparing posts that showcased the warmth and joy of the Wolff family’s holiday. She edited photos of Jack’s excitement and Susie and Toto’s shared glances, each image filled with genuine love and happiness.

As the afternoon stretched into evening, the family returned, their cheeks flushed from the cold and their spirits high. Jack burst through the door, chattering excitedly about the slopes and his latest triumphs, his energy infectious.

“You missed some epic runs today,” Toto said, grinning at Y/n as he hung up his jacket. “But it looks like you had a pretty relaxing day yourself.”

“I did,” Y/n replied, her smile warm. “And I’m ready to help get everything set up for tonight.”

The evening unfolded in a relaxed and joyful manner. The chalet was soon filled with the scent of delicious food and the sound of laughter as friends and family arrived. Y/n flitted around, capturing moments on her phone—Jack laughing with his cousins, Toto pouring glasses of champagne, and Susie arranging the dessert table with care.

Dinner was a grand affair, filled with toasts and delicious dishes. Y/n found herself seated between Jack and Susie, the warmth of their family radiating through every shared smile and story.

The sound of the clock chiming in the distance signaled that it was almost time. "Everyone outside!" Susie called, her voice cutting through the chatter. Y/n grabbed her coat and followed the group out onto the snow-covered terrace, her breath visible in the chilly air. The clear night sky stretched above them, the stars glittering like tiny diamonds, creating a magical backdrop.

Y/n positioned herself near the edge, ready to capture the moment. Toto stood beside Susie, their arms wrapped around each other as they looked out over the valley. Jack was nearby, bouncing with excitement as the countdown began.

"Ten... nine... eight..." The crowd's voices grew louder with each second, the anticipation palpable. Y/n raised her phone, framing the scene perfectly—Susie and Toto standing together, the fireworks waiting to burst into life.

"Three... two... one... Happy New Year!" The sky erupted in color, and the first fireworks soared into the night, illuminating the world below in a cascade of vibrant lights. Y/n pressed record, capturing the awe and wonder of the moment.

She kept her focus on Susie and Toto as they turned to each other, sharing a kiss amid the glowing backdrop. It was a tender, genuine moment, filled with the love and connection they shared. Y/n smiled, feeling privileged to capture such an intimate scene.

As the fireworks continued, Susie and Toto turned their attention to Y/n, their eyes sparkling with warmth. "Come here, Y/n!" Susie called out, her voice cutting through the noise.

Y/n hesitated briefly, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t have time to think too deeply before she found herself walking toward them, her boots crunching in the snow. Toto reached out first, pulling her into a tight embrace from one side, and Susie wrapped her arms around her from the other.

"Happy New Year, Y/n!" Susie said, her voice soft but full of emotion. She leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on Y/n’s cheek.

"Frohes neues," Toto echoed, his lips brushing against Y/n’s other cheek. The warmth of their presence made her heart race even faster.

Y/n laughed nervously, caught between them, feeling the champagne’s warmth in her system. "Happy New Year to you too," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The embrace lingered, and before Y/n could fully register what was happening, Susie’s hand slid up to gently cup her face. Her eyes locked with Y/n’s, and without warning, she leaned in, pressing her lips softly against Y/n’s in a quick but unmistakable kiss.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her mind spinning. The kiss was brief, yet it left a lingering warmth that spread through her. Before she could react, Toto mirrored Susie’s action, his lips meeting hers in a gentle, fleeting kiss that sent a ripple of surprise through her.

As quickly as it happened, it was over. Susie and Toto pulled back, their faces calm and smiling as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. They each gave Y/n another affectionate squeeze, their attention shifting back to the ongoing celebration and the fireworks lighting up the sky.

Y/n stood there, stunned, her lips tingling from the unexpected kisses. Her heart raced, the moment replaying in her mind on a loop. The Wolffs, however, continued to act naturally, their warmth and affection blending seamlessly with the evening’s festivities.

______________________________________________________________

The Wolff family’s New Year’s trip to Austria was already filled with warmth and laughter, but the arrival of Kimi Antonelli added an extra layer of excitement. Kimi, the new driver for Mercedes, had joined them to get to know the team a little better and immerse himself in the family-like atmosphere of the Wolffs.

Y/n had met Kimi a few times before, during his appearances in the garage or when he drove the car during practice sessions. She found him endearing—a focused, talented young man with a bright future ahead. His presence around the family felt natural, and Y/n quickly grew fond of him, seeing him as a sweet, almost kid-like presence despite his growing fame in motorsports.

“Kimi!” Jack exclaimed as soon as he saw the young driver step into the chalet. “You’re here! You can teach me all about racing now!”

Kimi chuckled, ruffling Jack’s hair. “I’ll do my best, little buddy.”

Jack immediately took to Kimi, declaring him his new best buddy, and followed him around the chalet, peppering him with endless questions about racing and cars. Y/n smiled at the sight, enjoying how quickly Jack had bonded with Kimi, almost as if he had gained a big brother overnight.

One snowy afternoon, the group decided to take a drive through the picturesque Austrian landscape. Y/n, Toto, Susie, Jack, and Kimi piled into the SUV, enjoying the serene beauty of the snow-covered mountains. Y/n loved these peaceful moments, capturing candid shots of the family for their holiday memories.

The drive was smooth until they hit a patch of deep snow, and the car got stuck. Toto tried reversing and maneuvering, but the wheels spun helplessly in place. They needed help.

“I’ll call for someone to come pull us out,” Toto said, already dialing.

While they waited, the group made the best of the situation. Jack played in the snow outside, throwing snowballs at Kimi, who good-naturedly dodged and occasionally threw one back.

Soon, help arrived, a sturdy tow truck ready to pull the car out of the snow. As they prepared to get the SUV moving, Kimi offered, “I can steer while they pull us out.”

Jack’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Can I sit with you, Kimi? Please? I want to help!”

Kimi smiled down at Jack, ruffling his hair again. “Alright, buddy. You can sit on my lap and help me steer.”

Y/n followed them to the front seats, her heart warmed by the interaction. Jack climbed onto Kimi’s lap, his small hands on the steering wheel, looking determined. Y/n couldn’t resist filming the moment, her phone capturing every detail of Jack’s eager expression and Kimi’s patient guidance.

The tow truck began pulling the SUV out of the snow. At first, everything went smoothly, but as the car was yanked free, it jolted forward slightly faster than expected. Jack and Kimi’s eyes widened in surprise as the car lurched, their faces frozen in identical expressions of stunned amazement.

“Oh my God! Stopp Stopp” Y/n exclaimed, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment before the car steadied.

She couldn’t help but laugh nervously, watching the replay on her phone. “You two looked so scared!” she teased, showing them the video.

Kimi laughed, shaking his head. “That was unexpected. But hey, we made it.”

Jack grinned up at Kimi. “That was awesome! Can we do it again?”

“Maybe not on purpose next time,” Kimi replied, chuckling as he gave Jack a playful squeeze.

(Have alook at this cute video)

______________________________________________________________

It was a quiet evening a few days after New Year’s, and Y/n found herself lying in her cozy bed, staring at the ceiling. The chalet was peacefully silent, with everyone else having retired for the night. She had been so busy with the excitement of the holidays—Jack’s snowman, the skiing (or rather, her disaster on skis), and spending time with Toto, Susie, and the kids—that she hadn’t had a chance to truly reflect on the events of New Year’s Eve.

But now, in the stillness of the room, the memory came flooding back.

It had all happened so fast. The night had been filled with laughter, good food, and drinks flowing freely. The atmosphere was relaxed and fun, everyone in high spirits, celebrating the arrival of a new year. But then, it was the moment after the fireworks, when Susie and Toto had pulled her into their embrace. They had kissed her on both cheeks, just like they always did, but then… then it had happened. Susie, bold and playful, kissed her on the lips. It had been quick, but still enough to catch her off guard.

And then Toto… he kissed her too. His lips on hers, brief, just a few seconds, but it had left a lingering warmth in her chest.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the storm of thoughts that followed. What did it mean? What did it all mean? She had tried to brush it off at the time, not wanting to overthink it, especially with everyone else around. But now, alone in her bed, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. Her thoughts kept circling back to that moment, the feeling of their lips, the chemistry in the air. It wasn’t just a kiss between friends, was it?

She ran a hand over her face, letting out a slow breath. She had been with the Wolff family for over a year now, and she knew the boundaries, or at least, she thought she did. Toto and Susie had always been kind to her, supportive, and loving in a way that felt familial, but that kiss—those kisses—had blurred something. The way Susie had leaned in so confidently, the way Toto had followed suit, both of them so natural and comfortable in their touch.

Y/n sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. The more she thought about it, the more she felt confused. Had she misinterpreted their actions? It wasn’t the first time they had shown affection towards her, but that night had felt… different. It wasn’t like any of the playful touches or casual hugs they had shared before. There was something more intimate about it.

She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about it. After all, it wasn’t like they had said anything directly about it afterward. The night had carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They had even joked and laughed together as if the kiss had been just a part of the festivities. But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that it had meant something more, something deeper.

She tried to picture Toto’s expression, his eyes, the way he’d pulled her close. He was always so protective and caring, but in that moment, there had been something else there, something she wasn’t sure she could identify.

And Susie—Susie, who was always so confident and assured in her own skin, had kissed her so boldly, as if it was just another moment to add to their friendship. But it wasn’t just any kiss, was it?

Y/n ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated with herself. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, especially when things had seemed so normal afterward. But she couldn’t stop wondering if that kiss had been a sign of something more—something that might change everything.

Did it mean they were interested in her? In a way that was more than just friendship? Or was she simply overthinking it? She didn’t want to assume anything, especially not with them being so close-knit and familiar with her. But the kisses—those lingering moments—they felt different, and it left her unsure of where she stood.

She glanced over at the clock. The late hour was a reminder that she needed rest. Yet her mind wouldn’t let go. Her heart beat a little faster as she recalled the laughter from that night, the warmth of the moment, and the way their touches seemed to spark something inside her. She cared about them deeply, of course. But this? She had never expected this kind of closeness.

Y/n sighed deeply, rolling onto her side, curling into her pillow. She had always prided herself on being able to handle any situation with clarity and calm, but now, she felt unsure. She didn’t know what this meant for them, for their dynamic, or for her. Was she supposed to just ignore what happened and move on? Or was this something she needed to face, something that might change the way she viewed her relationship with Toto and Susie?

______________________________________________________________@pand-de-pandora-blog @wonderwolffs @laura-naruto-fan1998 @strangegirl974 @totothewolff @xoscar03 @noooway555 @myescapefromthislife @omgsuperstarg @laur2608 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @cherry-piee @jkdaddy01

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artsninspo · 8 days ago

Text

003 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 002

♠ summary: The forced proximity of a Swiss work trip makes Lorence's attempts at evading Mr. Richmond more challenging. Their already tense dynamic becomes all the more challenging when she finds out when he thinks of her terms and requests.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~2.7K

⌖ - St. Moritz, Switzerland

I check my watch noting my pulse is exactly where I need it to be. I can feel the blood rushing through my limbs as I dismount from my inversion looking at brave skiers taking on the slopes. I remove my mouth tape and take a deep breath. An integral of this position is being remarkable while not standing out too much physically. I need endurance and strength without looking like I train for a few hours a day in the gym. Morning yoga is my personal maintenance. I look out ahead and breathe deeply while admiring the serenity of the Swiss Alps. I could get used to this. I think to myself revelling in the privilege of the experience. Continuing my deep breathing I click off the noise cancellation on my headphones allowing the world back in and hear running. Frowning, I turn and find the Boss on the treadmill running with a large barbell over his shoulders evenly weighted with large black disks on either side. What the hell!? I think looking away before stealing a glance at him barrelling through his run in the mirror. He moves effortlessly with the deathtrap hitched on his shoulders like he’s carrying five pound dumbbells and not over a hundred pounds while running moderately. Of his own free will!

Maniac, I mutter snapping out of my thoughts. I manage to gather my things quickly, tossing them into my bag before disinfecting the mat I used. The cadence of his steps changes as he slows maintaining a slower speed and I wonder how he hast stopped yet. This tortuous exercise would have already murdered me. I feel self conscious in an instant when I remember my hair is in heat less rollers under a satin scarf and curse myself for leaving my room in this presentation. Mr. Richmond provides a notable monthly stipend towards the maintenance and upkeep of his employees. My current appearance is a huge faux pas. Appearance is everything. Not in a homogenous and boring kind of way, but in an eclectic way we've got something for everyone, kind of way. I hardly look my part right now, I have never been in the presence of the boss without a face on. A bare face isn't something I’d usually be self-conscious about but around Mr. Perfect; I am.

The running stops and I’ve missed my window to leave without an interaction. He slows to a stop before putting down the weight. He’s barely sweating and not nearly exasperated enough to be fully human.

“Good morning” he calls over to me, his baritone reverberating through the empty gym.

“Good morning” I respond hoping he hasn’t put his contacts in since he isn’t wearing glasses but it’s a foolhardy wish for a man as prepared as him. My phone rings and I smile when I see my father has saved me from the beast.

“Hey Daddy” I smile, picking up.

“Hi my love, I was just heading to bed I hoped you’d be up on time” Dad says.

“I am, thanks. I just finished yoga” I explain using the opportunity to get my bag on and slip out from under the Bosses nose.

“What’s it like?” Dad asks and I wish he could see it for himself.

“Cold and gorgeous I’ll take lots of pictures when I get a chance.” I smile.

“Remember to take some time to see it, really see it and bring home fondue and chocolate for your mother and I” he adds.

“Chocolate, cheese and wine - got it. Mom won’t let me forget it. I’ll be through with her list” I tell him.

“Atta girl, well I’ll let you get ready. Call me if you need anything” daddy says as I pass the Boss.

“I will, thanks dad - see you soon” I tell him. He sends a kiss through the phone and I do the same making it out of the gym without having to make small talk with Mr. Richmond. Joel’s been on assignment and I haven’t heard a thing about my conditions. I move through the building heading back to my room to find the bed maid. I have a shower and spend more time than I should watching people ski down the mountain while doing my make up for the day. I spray perfume and then get dressed before packing a bag in case of any surprises. When I leave, people have already started breakfast. A chef is at work and names set out on serving cloches. I find mine and see a perfect breakfast respecting my dietary restrictions.

“Thank you chef” I smile, thanking the chef and he nods smiling back. I find a seat at the table in my own world as everyone partakes in conversation. I’m not a morning person and if I want my breakfast to settle I can’t be aggravated or anxious. The room is buzzing with good energy overall, everyone is excited to be in attendance. I’m anxious. Although I have no responsibilities this go round I like being in a conference room surrounded by computers being fed intel and finding a way through as opposed to being on the ground. We leave in groups, staggering our arrival times. Joel appears just as I’m about to get into my black truck. He smiles getting in with me.

“How are you?” You ask, getting on your seatbelt.

“This’ll take some adjusting to the timezone change & climate. I just finished a job in Australia - it’s summer there” he smiles.

“You know flying so much isn’t good for you.” I tell him.

“I know, I’m being rotated out for the next six months unless it’s eminent” Joel responds.

It’s great news. “I bet your kids will be happy”

“Not my wife though,” he mutters.

“I’m sure living with a hyper-vigilant, ex special forces nut isn’t easy” I tease and he chuckles.

“You’re supposed to be on my side” Joel remarks.

I give him a curt look. “I am on your side. You can’t do this forever. All your awards and accolades mean nothing without your family ensuring they’re celebrated and live on” I remind him.

Joel beams bright, “I forgot how much I missed you” he laughs, shaking his head dismissively at my sentimentality. I snap a few pictures of the mountains in genuine awe of their magnitude.

“This is the job, seeing the best the world has to offer” Joel says beside me.

“I know” I nod.

“The Boss didn’t agree,” Joel says, drawing my attention back to him. “Actually, he was pissed,” Joel says, shocking me. I give him a moment to tell me it's all a joke and when he doesnt my heart starts to race.

“Great” I sigh sarcastically.

“Offered you a $850k and an increased therapy stipend. You have until the end of the week to decide if the response is no, HR will terminate your employment.” Joel says looking guilty. Now, I’m really in shark infested waters.

“Joel!” I snap looking him over.

“Joel what, it’s practically a million dollars!” he shouts like he isn’t the one who secured my spot on the Bosses shit list.

“To be ripped into and harassed. You know he’s gonna make every penny worth his while” I snap.

“You run things by me and I’ll do my best to catch any infractions. He really isn’t as bad as you think.” Joel says and I sigh near tears. I’m going to be out of a job. I think to myself with closed eyes. Maybe if I can manage it for a year then I can quit a million dollars richer? Maybe I can train for the verbal berating? My thoughts run wild and I take deep breaths.

“I’m sorry” Joel says finally. I open my eyes before cutting them over to him. “I’ll be home so I’ll have all the time in the world to be on call” he reminds.

“Whatever” I snap folding my arms. “I’m still not convinced,” I confess.

“It’s more money than the average person makes in their lifetime in a year. Think of all the good you can do with it. Think of all the potential investors and philanthropists you can meet?” Joel starts and his training is showing. He’s appealing to the things I value most.

The car stops and he gets the door. I put my game face on exiting behind him. We blend in with the understated upper echelon. In the field, what Richmond inc. is second to none, I spot my colleagues discreetly blending in amongst the crowd. Unlike the serious and burly security guards that are easy targets we blend in. Offering safety in numbers as well as increased observation. For the more curious attendees at these kinds of things our menial titles make us all the more visible. Consultants and special advisors are of little importance in most cases as they are far from where the money resides.

Joel and I separate as he schmoozes. His cover is that he’s an elite protection dog breeder. As a senior agent and not executive I don’t have that kind of story but no one pries when I tell them I’m his assistant. I’m a woman so it’s believable. I look the part and a few of them look at me like I’m a meal. It’s nothing I’m not used to in a sea of powerful men. They flirt and I giggle but that’s all it’ll ever be. I know better and this group works hard and plays harder. Not to kink shame but the shit they’re into turns my stomach. There are few novelties when you have as much money as they do. I tread lightly and make my rounds schmoozing and farming potential clients away from other security firms who are too busy eye fucking me to realize I may be why they’re out a job. When the keynote begins the rotunda leans out. The centre’s workers have their way with the decadent charcuterie boards and excess wine while myself and a few of my colleagues file out into our waiting cars.

They go skiing once we get back but I get out my notebook weighing my options with Mr Richmond’s counter offer heavy on my mind. The blank page stares back at me as I make the pros and cons list. I decide to try my hand at positivity first. The pay, the travel, the potential to meet incredible people. I pause from writing and look up at the ceiling to think. The amenities, the accommodations, the new experiences. I continue with my list until I begin to draw blanks. Are they really even pros when I currently make more than I need not by a longshot and can afford to put myself in the position to enjoy everything listed? I groan, tearing the page and tossing it into the modern black stoned fireplace. I know the cons intimately. Chronic stress from existing under a microscope, anxiety that would snowball into a skewed self-perception about my value and what I deserve. Verbal tirades that would also be intimidating and dramatic because of how big the brute is. Turning my head I watch the paper burn and try to find alternatives. Perhaps exposure therapy? Only being tougher and having thicker skin is not something I aspire to at this time in my life. I’ve faced about fear to tack on another one for the sake of greed and prestige.

Disappointed greenish blue-grey eyes find me in my thoughts where they are unwelcome. It would be easier if he wasn't so damn handsome, then everyone would hate him and we wouldn't have to pretend he’s this pleasant person to be around. Maybe then, he’d be nicer too - or just normal instead of so abrasive.

What if I just ignore what Joel told me and continue in my current position? But that would only work until the Bosses patience runs out. All I’d need to do is stand my ground. I have half a decade of nearly perfect reviews to make being fired an unjust and unlawful termination. Unfortunately, being in a litigious battle with Mr. Richmond is a terrifying idea.

I decide to stop worrying and make the most of the present. I put on my base layer before my thermals and a snowsuit for my solo adventure up and down the slopes. I make sure I have everything before heading out of my room with a slightly awkward waddle. Smiling, I take a photo for my girls back home. My hair is braided and put away under a fleece hat to keep it from freezing. The elevator dings and I walk in before looking up. Big mistake. Just the man I want to avoid is the one standing in there with me.

“Lobby?” he asks and I nod swallowing my smile. I see the lobby button is already illuminated.

“Sir” I force a polite smile.

“Miss Cole” he nods back. It’s the first time I’ve regretted our penthouse accommodations. It's a long way down.

“Is Mr. Jameson back yet?” The Boss asks, referring to Joel.

“I believe he’s still at the convention,” I respond.

“Have you two had a chance to speak yet?” Mr. Richmond pries.

“About?” I ask as the elevator doors reopen.

“Well hello handsome” she says in full winter gear. Her husband shakes his head completely ignoring his wifes antics. Well, I assume he’s her husband. “Ooo wee, Earl don’t you think one of the girls would love him” she says, elbowing her husband who is clearly ready to be outside. But Earl chuffs committed to not looking up at Mr. Richmond and it amuses me - Earl and I are on the same page.

“Cheryl quit” he says instead with a thick southern american accent.

I stifle a giggle and he looks up at me with an annoyed smirk. He makes a talking gesture with his hand before pointing to his wife, who is still admiring Mr. Richmond. He motions that his Wife's talking too much like a kid sneakingly mocking their teacher in class.

“Forty five years and she’s always got new material” he whispers, reminding me of my own parents. THeir irritation with each other is always second to their love.

“I bet that keeps things interesting” I respond and his eyes light.

“You bet,” he laughs, highly amused.

“Now Earl, nothing she says could be that funny” she chides him as the elevator sounds and the doors open. Earl throws his hands up in defeat heading out first and Cheyl gives Mr. Richmond a wave. I use the confusion to my advantage putting on my gloves and heading to the chalet where snowboards can be rented. The Boss will have to schedule a meeting with me where I can be prepared. This ordeal is hardly an ad hoc conversation. I live below my means and take care of my people so the money doesn’t seduce me. I like nice things but I have more of them than I have time for right now. The money I have been squirrelling away was for travel with my family. My priority is to smell the roses with the people I love.

I’m modest with my ascend up the slopes and do a moderate slope instead of going all the way up the mountain. I snowboard down a few times before taking my daddy’s advice. I FaceTime him while enjoying swiss fondue. Momma makes sure I write down everything for her gastronomy blog and I take lots of photos. I return to the hotel with a box of goodies and the doorman rushes to help me with it. The common area has a sprinkle of people. We talk about the convention and the weather before turning in.

My nightly routine is still in place. Before winding down completely I do a final once over of my emails and make sure all is going well with my team while I am away. I’m about to close out of my emails when one comes in from the Boss. I swallow hard looking at the encrypted email and slam my laptop shut. I try decompressing by brushing my team only to check my work phone and see I have a 9:00 a.m meeting with the man himself tomorrow morning.

FUCK!

004 ⇛

authors note: thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this part, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments. Don't forget to like, comment, reblog and vote on the polls 🖤

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#aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre imagine #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre #aaron fics #terry richmond x you #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond imagine #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #rebel ridge fanfiction #rebel ridge #terry richmond x black female reader

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jasmineoolongtea · 8 months ago

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hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕

a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd

"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.

"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.

"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.

This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.

Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.

Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.

"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.

"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.

Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."

You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"

"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.

The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.

Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"

"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.

An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."

"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.

A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.

Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"

"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.

A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."

"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"

"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."

A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."

"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.

There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.

You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.

Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"

Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.

#*ੈ✩‧₊🍵 asks #dividers by cafekitsune #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #‧₊˚ ⋅ 🍵 writes

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ellysdreamworldd · 1 month ago

Text

ℋᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛs 𝒟ʀ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ�� ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: elly [...]

𝐚𝐠𝐞: 14 (starting 4th year)

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞: gryffindor

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫: 1994

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: muggle born

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝: yew wood, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches and medium flexibility

𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒏𝒂♥︎

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲:

i am an italian transfer student in Hogwarts and i moved with my family from Rome to London during july 1994 because of my mom's job, so i'm starting out at Hogwarts on my 4th year. Both of my parents are muggles and so is my older sister, so i am the first witch of the family. (not very creative i know but i didn't want to go through all the trouble of creating myself a new family, also because It would honestly feel weird to me and i wouldnt be able to bond with them, so my family in my dr is very similar to the one in my cr)

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚:

I started my education at an Italian wizarding school called Celestia (yes, I invented it), located in the alps. Celestia is a much smaller school compared to other european institutions such as Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang, and only a few students attend it since most people prefer to enroll in more well-known and popular schools. However, despite its smaller structure and student body, Celestia is an excellent school that provides a full and in-depth education to young wizards and witches. However, there are some drastic differences compared to Hogwarts: for example, Quidditch is not played due to the mountainous land and the lack of players. Instead, students receive consistent physical training in disciplines such as boxing (absolutely didn't script this because i wanted to be able to punch people properly), martial arts, sword fighting, archery, and flying courses. These flying lessons include aerial tricks, races, and obstacle courses to improve reflexes and speed, so that if i ever decide to start playing Quidditch i'm perfectly qualified for it. Moreover, the students are not divided into houses of any sort. There are also some slightly different subjects: in addition to the core subjects (astronomy, herbology, history of magic, potions, charms, defense against the dark arts, and transfiguration), Celestia offers unique electives. These include healing, wandless Magic (I wanted to be cool), enchanted artifact crafting, enchanted cartography, latin and magical linguistics (i stole these ideas from @jadeshifting), along with alchemy, divination, and ancient runes. The school also provides an Apparition course for third-year students and older (which I obviously took so i'm able to apparate). Students at Celestia often go on wilderness survival trips in the mountains, where they put their classroom knowledge into practice. Additionally, Celestia has one of the largest libraries in the wizarding world, located underground. This library contains thousands of books, including ancient Latin texts, many of which remain untranslated (students often attempt to translate these texts themselves, hoping to discover secret spells) and dark books containing forbidden spells. Celestia places a significant focus on Defense Against the Dark Arts. For example, students are taught to resist the Imperius Curse starting from their first year (I wanted to be able to do that) and often engage in both physical and magical (wandless too) dueling. Overall, Celestia is an underrated school that offers a superior education compared to most, thoroughly preparing students for the challenges of the real world. (in conclusion, i'm stronger, smarter and more knowledged than anyone at Hogwarts because i have main character syndrome)

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬:

since when i shift it's going to be the first day of the 4th year, i'm not going to know anyone in Hogwarts (don't even know why i'm doing this to myself since i can't socialise), but my aim is be to be a part of the golden trio (soon golden quartet) & that's why i scripted me and Hermione are in the same dorm along with other 2 random girls (she NEEDS a girl best friend guys and that's what i'm for). I guess i just want to actually get to know the characters before being friends with them cause it would honestly feel weird to shift for the first time and be friends with people i've never seen before like what if i don't even like them.. so yeah. I don't have an s/o either, because like i said i want to get to know people from the start and let them get to know me, so i'll just be with whoever i like (not scripting they like me back cause i need to check my rizzler skills).

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

i hope you enjoyed this and if you're shifting to Hogwarts too i'd love to have some moots⁠♡

#shifting to hogwarts #hogwarts dr #reality shifter #desired reality #shiftblr #shifting community #reality shifting #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shiftingrealities #harry potter dr #shifting script #golden trio era #dr intro

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doctor-dusk · 9 months ago

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𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢'𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

you decide to surprise your boyfriend (late sias!alex) on valentine's day.

warnings: oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (piv), veeery sub!al (but then after comes dom!al cuz i don't know how to write sub lol), a bit of aftercare :3

word count: 5.7k

celebrating the baby recents in nyc i'm going crazy that man's just….... *chef's kiss*

the bed felt cold that morning for alex, not just because the thermometers were reading low temperatures, but because you weren't there beside him to warm his body when he woke up. which was kinda weird.

‘’it’s not possible that she left so early today.’’, he thought while still staring at the empty side of the bed before raising his head. he smelled your perfume in the room, albeit faintly, narrowing his gaze at the half-open bathroom door in the hope that you would get out of there, even though he knew that wouldn't happen.

especially because it was valentine's day. alex wanted to wake up, look at you and your messy hair, your sleepy face, wake you up with a million kisses all over your face, then ask what you would like to eat for breakfast.

he looked at the digital clock on his cell phone, seeing that there were still ten minutes until 8am. you usually never leave for work so early, and alex really hoped you could curl up with him in bed for a few more minutes until you ran the risk of arriving late at the office.

in addition to the time, he saw a message that you sent to him twenty minutes ago informing him that you needed to go to work early that day and that you had left the breakfast table set for him in the kitchen in case he wanted to eat something.

but alex wasn't feeling as hungry as he would have liked, limiting himself to taking some sips of black coffee as he got ready to go to the studio.

as much as he wanted to focus on the demands during the recording process, his mind was stuck on the idea that it was strange that you hadn't sent him anything other than a text all morning. he thought he could ask you to have lunch together at any nearby restaurant, even if it was for fifteen minutes.

his hand reached his phone on his pocket, the wallpaper was a photo of you that he took during your annual skiing vacation in the austrian alps.

‘’hi.’’ you answered his call on the third ring. alex was surprised by the way you answered. in fact, everything seemed too strange for him now.

‘’hey... are you busy?’’ he said after a few seconds, speaking softly more so as not to let his friend hear him than to not disturb him.

‘’yeah, why?’’ you asked quickly, getting irritated by a document that was not scanned well, which made you curse under your breath.

‘’nothing, i… i thought we could have lunch together in a little while.’’ alex replied, nibbling on the cap of the pen he had in his hand, pretending to be focused on the computer screen, but in reality it only made him more anxious.

‘’i can’t, alex.’’ you answered him almost immediately, making him bite the pen cap harder.

‘’c’mon, just fifteen minutes. i didn't even saw you get out of bed this mornin’, y/n.’’ he replied, trying to not show his frustration through his voice.

‘’i already i can’t, turner. i’m really busy, there's no chance of leaving here now.’’ you replied in the same tone to him, making him sigh and remain silent. alex thought about asking you why you were like this, but he thought it could just be the stress consuming you day after day, you have great responsibilities in your department that sometimes keep you up at night. ‘’are you going to say anything else or can i hang up?’’

‘’no, i have nothing more to say.’’ alex replied shortly, not hiding the frustration in his voice.

‘’fine, i'll see you at home.’’ you replied and then hung up, not expecting him to answer you back.

turner threw his cell phone onto the table, letting out a heavy sigh as he tried to relax his tense shoulders as he adjusted his posture in the chair. he didn't know if he had done something wrong to you the day before or even before that, because everything seemed to be fine with him. or not.

did he forget to take out the trash yesterday? did he not compliment the color of the nail polish on your nails? is he spending too much time in the studio?

after all, he was a man and men can be stupid when it comes to women's feelings. but you didn't have any communication problems, at least not that he knew about.

“tough valentine's day, huh?” he heard matthew comment next to him, his eyes never left his cell phone screen, but his ears were certainly very sharp to the conversation next to him.

alex didn't answer him, preferring to immerse himself in any recording demands and not stress about the idea that you were acting weird with him for no reason.

and well, he failed the mission miserably.

what alex hadn't really stopped to think about for a second was that this was all a plan so that you could leave work early and get to your apartment first to surprise him.

and of course, you knew that alex would probably arrive a little after 8pm due to the chaotic traffic, or even later because he would probably be too upset to not want to get home early, so you knew you needed to be quick, tidying and organizing the entire apartment, and of course, preparing his favourite pasta, as well as the quick strawberry cheesecake for dessert. you just hoped you hadn't angered alex enough to make him not even want to look at your face at the end of the day.

it was past 10pm, you were finishing lighting the last candle placed on the dinner table when you heard the sound of the password being entered into the digital lock outside, indicating that alexander had just arrived. you directed your gaze to the door at the exact moment you saw him enter, one of his hands was wrapped around the suitcase handle and the other was trying to close the door behind him.

turner was too distracted to notice that everything was dark until he smelled tangerine and pink mango in the room, as well as some rose petals that trailed a small path through the hallway. he stopped, looking ahead and seeing you standing next to the perfectly set table for dinner.

he wasn't staring at you for too long without saying anything just because he was trying to understand what was happening, but because you were wearing a red dress with shoulder-to-shoulder straps, leaving the collarbone exposed and the skirt with a slit that began just above your left knee. he felt disoriented for a few seconds to the point where he even forgot that he was upset with you.

“what is that?” he asked, letting his shoulders relax as you approached subtly, letting him see how your makeup was light, but at the same time striking due to the red lipstick pigmenting your lips.

“what does that look like?” you chuckled, taking the suitcase from his hand and placing it against the wall close to the door, then wrapping your arms around his neck. turner looked once again at the dining table, the smell of gorgonzola cheese sauce mixed a little with the aroma of the candles, not that it bothered him.

“thought you were mad at me. i spent the whole fuckin’ day reviewing my sins to find out what i did or didn't do.” he squinted at you, seeing you laugh comically, and then he couldn't help but smile too. “it was all a plan, eh? i should ‘ave suspected.”

“you're still the smartest and dumbest man i know, honey.” you quipped, sliding the tip of your index finger along his chin, lowering it a little so you could give him a kiss that probably left his mouth stained with lipstick. not that he cared about that. “c’mon, i made this recipe in record time and i want to know if you will like it.” you said, taking his hand and making him sit in the chair at one end of the four-seater table and you sat in the chair on the other side.

there wasn't a moment when you both weren't laughing, or talking about the food, or planning what you were going to do the next day. alex felt mesmerized by you, as if you were always able to make him fall in love with you every day, or in every act like smiling at him and asking him why he had that silly expression on his face when you get up from your chair, walking around the table to hug him, taking the opportunity to sit on his lap, feeling him hug you with one arm while the other remained over your partially bare leg.

soon, you were laughing loudly with your minds connected, your face was red from laughing so much, and alex was trying not to choke on taking another sip of wine, as he was now laughing more at your laugh than at the conversation itself. he loved those moments where he lost himself in the feeling of laughing until his stomach hurt, or just enjoying your laughing face as you tried to stop laughing.

‘’oh, baby, i love you so much…’’ alexander murmured, kissing your rosy cheek, dragging the kiss a little longer until he reached your parted lips, giving you a long open mouthed kiss as you felt him playing with the slit of your dress, his hand moved a little further to feel the warmth of the skin on your thigh.

‘’not more than me.’’ you replied, kissing him again, feeling him smile between the kiss, biting your bottom lip.

‘’why not? i didn't knew this was a competition.’’ he drawled his voice, feeling you caress the back of his neck, giving him goosebumps slightly. you pretended to think for a while, nibbling your lip gently.

‘’cause i have something to show you.” you whispered as if it were a secret, holding his hand so that you could now leave the small room between the kitchen and the living room, crossing the hallway a little further until you reached the bedroom.

turner wasn't too surprised to see the bed littered with rose petals and more scented candles on the nightstands. the dim lights from the candles along with the city lights that invaded the room through the half-open curtain only added an even more romantic touch to the occasion.

in fact, what really surprised him was a chair in front of the bed, which apparently had no use until he realized he was going to sit there when you pushed his shoulders down, making him sit down. his curiosity and excitement were already at an all-time high as he looked at you and wondered what was going through your devilish mind.

he didn't dare say anything as anticipation pounded his chest, watching your every move as you went to the portable speaker connected via bluetooth to your cell phone, double-clicking on the cell phone's screen only to make the first rings of the selected song start to echo in a considerable volume.

you shook your head gently, closing your eyes to feel the music a little and let you body adapt to a rhythm, your closed mouth hummed the melody, your hands slid across the silky fabric of your dress, as if you were in your own world and for a moment, forgetting that alex watched your every act without blinking, thinking that he was incapable of missing something, especially the mischievous way you smiled at him when you opened your eyes and watched him.

‘’i really tried to be a little more creative this year, ya’ know?’’ you said, forming a hook with your two index fingers to pull the straps of the dress, and then the fingers of one of your hands quickly wrapped around the zipper, just to lower it enough to let the piece of clothing run like water down your body. ‘’you're a little hard to please, turner.’’

‘’oh, honey, i’m happy with literally anything you can give me. especially this.’’ alexander replied, opening his legs a little and leaving his body a little more relaxed in the chair, feeling uneasy with his girlfriend's figure in just lingerie in front of him. you were always able to leave him speechless. ‘’this lingerie is new, isn't it?’’ he asked, paying attention to every detail of those intimate pieces, his fertile imagination just formulating the image of those panties and bra thrown in some corner of the room while he was too busy touching and feeling every inch of your body.

‘’did you like it? i bought it just so you could take it off.’’ you smiled, turning around so that turner could lose himself once again in your curves, in the skin that seemed to glow in the candlelight, and, while he would love to continue having this privileged view, he couldn't wait to do what his mind already formulated.

you allowed yourself to get a little closer to him in rhythm with the music, each touch seemed to send him a certain type of stimulation, and alex was loving every second of it, feeling his chest rise and fall restlessly amidst his heavy breathing, watching you spreading your legs so that you could sit perfectly on his lap.

‘’look at you…’’ you murmured, slowly tilting your head to capture every little feature of his face, feeling that his eager hands were already trailing a small path from your knees to your thighs. ‘’you seem so desperate.’’

‘’i am.’’ alex responded almost immediately, feeling your lips press against his neck as you tilted your head a little more, taking in his scent, feeling it invading your nostrils like a summer breeze. alex let his hand go up a little more to hold your hair, taking it off of your shoulder to leave the area free so he could give you a simple kiss, but it was certainly capable of making you shiver completely. ‘’i need you so much, baby…’’ turner dragged his voice into your ear, letting his hand gripping the back of your head as he felt you smile into his neck.

‘’oh, but i'm not finished yet, love.’’ you tutted, moving your hands up to his shirt, and then your mouth took his in a deep and passionate kiss. alex felt the urgency to help you get rid of the shirt as soon as possible, now enjoying the sensation of your nails scraping the skin of his chest from top to bottom, the skin boiling with the desire that consumed him more and more. he loved the touches, the way you handled everything and made him more aroused to the point where he felt like he would explode just with these small acts.

the kiss didn't last long, as soon alex was enjoying the sight of you slowly flexing your knees to lower yourself in front of him as you got off his lap. normally, you were always quick to get rid of his undergarments, but at that moment, you absolutely loved to take advantage of the slowness, just to increase alex's anxiety a little more to the point of realizing that he felt goosebumps and was holding back a few curse words due to your slowness in just lower the zipper of his pants.

‘’you're very…’’ he murmured, holding his tongue between his teeth and letting his mouth contort into a crooked smile. he didn't want to act like he was practically dying from it, even though you knew that very well. it was clear to you how desperate he was, and that only made it more fun for you.

you laughed, ceasing the torture that would probably make alex climb the walls at any moment or just lose his patience, pulling his pants down with his underwear, watching his cock pratically jump out of the confines of his underwear, painfully hard.

you licked your lips at the sight, wrapping your hand around his throbbing erection, making him let out a sigh both from the relief and the simple pleasure he felt with the slow slide of your right hand, making him shudder.

for him, that was enough to make him see stars, but of course you could improve even more by replacing your hand with your lips that were thirsty for that touch, getting a preview of his taste as the precum entered in contact with your tongue at the exact moment your slid the muscle over the tip.

you wrapped your lips around him in a deliciously pleasurable way that made him raise his hips towards you a little, thrusting into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting your throat roughly, making you gag in response, drooling over his length.

alex closed his eyes tightly, letting his head fall back, a long moan escaped his mouth when he felt you stimulate him with your lips and hands, stroking him where your mouth couldn't reach. he felt the spasms getting stronger and stronger, letting his fist close on your hair when you took him deeper.

but of course, you needed to take breaks, letting your hands work their magic on his cock so you could look at him. his face was flushed and frowning, his mouth was half-open, letting out the moans and whispers of someone who was loving it, and his hair was messy, with some strands sticking to his forehead due to sweat.

he opened his eyes, sighing deeply as he looked down and saw you smile discreetly, pleased to see him totally vulnerable and completely out of breath. and only because of you. he felt like if you kept going for a little more he was going to cum in your mouth, even more so if your kept looking at him like that.

‘’fuck, baby, please…’’ he pleaded, moving your face away from his cock when you slid your tongue once again along the hard and pulsing length, he didn't want to finish in your mouth now. you were already so turned on at this point, so you didn't respond and didn't dare tease him anymore, using your free hand to reach for the elastic of your bra.

alexander thought you were going to get rid of the piece, but he saw the moment you took out a condom strategically hidden inside the cup of your bra. he found that to be surprisingly exciting, and even more so when you wanted to make a point of looking deep into his eyes as you brought the packaging to your mouth, tearing the plastic in a careful yet provocative way so as not to end up damaging the latex.

your touched him again briefly, always having control of everything you were doing there, from the moment you fitted the condom onto his erection, lubricated in advance by both precum and saliva, until the moment you sat on his lap again.

‘’you must be so wet right now…’’ alex murmured, his sneaky hand wandered over the fabric of your panties, noticing how soaked it felt at that point, which made him smile devilishly as he brought his mouth closer to your ear. ‘’of course you are.’’ he said, nibbling your earlobe gently, his hot breath gave you goosebumps all over, feeling him grope your back to get rid of the bra, and soon the piece was on the bedroom floor and your firm breasts were in full and total contact with his chest as the two of you began kissing again urgently.

and alex chose not to waste time, just pulling your panties to the side and making you sink down on him while your mouths were still attached, losing himself inside you and making you feel every pulsating inch invading you in one single thrust.

‘’fuck, alex…’’ you caught your lip between your teeth, arching your back a little, feeling his hand on your lower back while the other massaged one of your breasts, trapping the nipple between his index finger and thumb, giving your extra stimulation.

it didn't take long for you to place your feet on the floor, feeling alex squeeze your waist as you moved up and down, as if with each thrust you felt him even deeper, you were trying to concentrate on each stimulus and trying not to forget how to breathe. alex was also in the same state, even more so when every time he opened his eyes he was faced with the sight of you bouncing on his lap constantly, your breasts seemed to bounce like two large tennis balls as the chair was making an annoying squeaking sound.

he wasn't expecting you to use your best trick so soon when you were on top of him, so he completely lost his train of thought when he felt you rolling in his lap while he was fully inside of you and the tip of his cock was brushing on your cervix. it was slow and provocative, which made him place both hands on your waist and suck the air tightly between his teeth.

‘’that's right, love... you love doing this, don't ya’? you know how fuckin’ crazy i go when you do that.’’ alex murmured as he pulsed hard inside of you, twitching as his nails digged on your skin, which stimulated you even more, pressing your fingers on his shoulders as you’re getting more wet. ‘’such a little devil.’’ he said through his teeth, leaving a hickey on your neck that made you roll your eyes before giving a cheeky smile.

‘’i'd be lying if i said i didn't know.’’ you answered, feigning such an innocence that didn't go unnoticed by him, which made him decide that now he wanted to have control. he wanted to tease you the same way you did to him. he wanted to make you beg for more.

‘’i want to fuck you on all fours. now.’’ he said in a serious tone when your lips brushed against his. you felt the authoritarian tone from afar, and oh, how much you loved this side of alex, especially now when he’s so turned on, determined to have his way with you.

turner grabbed your thighs from below with both hands, not daring to pull out for a second, getting up from the chair and turning around only to throw you on the bed, his free hands now pulling his pants and underwear down so that he wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible, kicking it out when it reached his ankles. you loved seeing his desperation, the desire sparkling in his barely blinking eyes.

‘’turn around, ass up.’’

you turned around, your body was partially lying on the bed, your breasts were slightly compressed by the mattress, while your belly and ass were a little higher, your spine was arched to the maximum. alex loved the view he had as he crawled across the bed, parting your legs a little so the angle was perfect for him.

‘’look at you…’’ alex said in a purr, imitating your speech when he saw that the roles were reversed, and obviously he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to tease you a little since you were in that position, so vulnerable and so thirsty for him. ‘’you seem so desperate.’’ he let out an ironic laugh through his nose, letting his hands slide down thighs, a naughty smile appeared on his lips when you grunted something that he didn't understand because you were so numb.

his fingers caught the elastic of your panties, sliding the underwear down to your knees and you finished taking them off in one quick act, throwing it away. he drew random patterns on the hot skin of your right buttock with his index finger, leaving a few kisses there, and then that same finger invaded your wet hole in an easy glide, making you bury your face in the sheet, breathing deeply and smelling the faint aroma of one of the countless rose petals scattered across the bed that was dangerously close to your nose.

alex took his sweet time, loving the scene of you holding his wrist while he continued moving his index finger until it reached the knuckle of his hand, and soon his middle finger slided in, doing rapid movements that made you writhe like a true acrobat in bed.

‘’oh, fuck, yes, yes!’’ you moaned, feeling a hard slap on the other buttock that he made a point of hitting with his open palm to leave the mark, the burning feeling sending tingles all over your body. you gripped his wrist, feeling his breath hitting the middle of your back, trailing a few kisses to her shoulder. ‘’you love torturing me like this, don't you?’’ you said amid another groan, turning your face a little closer to get a glimpse of him, his left hand strummed on the side of you waist as if he were playing a piano.

‘’mhmm, it's my favorite pastime, darlin’. i love hearing you moan like that for me.’’ he bit your bottom lip, sinking his two calloused fingers once again inside you only to see you roll your eyes. ‘’and i really want to fuck you now.’’ he continued, increasing the pressure a little so that he could hear you panting with each thrust, his digits massaging your spongey spot.

‘’and what are you waiting for?’’ you asked, your eyes glued to his, especially when he took his two wet fingers out of you and put them in your mouth to make you taste yourself, savoring it as if it were your favorite lollipop, licking his fingers without breaking the visual contact. you definitely knew how to wake up his demons.

still without breaking eye contact, you felt his cock slide up and down your folds in a slow provocation, you knew he still wanted to prolong the torture a little longer, he was so thirsty to hear you beg for him that he just slide the tip on your hole, pushing just a little and pulling out, sliding it back over your clit, tapping it to cause minimal friction that made you close your legs a little and clench your empty hole around nothing.

‘’fuck, don’t do that to me, love.’’ you let out a whine, moving your hips towards him a little just so you could feel him enter a little more, and then he moved back, listening to her cries.

‘’what do you want, baby? tell me.’’

‘’i want y-you.’’ you said in a whimper, trying to get a hold of his hip.

‘’you already ‘have me, sweetheart.’’ he tutted. he knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to say it.

‘’y-your cock. i want it. please, just…’’ you swallowed hard, feeling frustrated with how much you wanted him to fuck you until pass out.

‘’just what?’’

‘’fuck me, alex, just fuck me, i need-’’

he didn't let you finish your sentence, sliding inside of you in one deep thrust, making you moan loudly as you felt every inch of him filling you at once.

alex took a deep breath, both hands holding the flesh of her buttocks, keeping it spreaded as he went back and forth slowly but with the right pressure until he bottoms out. you felt the strands of his gelled hair tickling your cheek and his warm chest pressed against your back for a few seconds when he made those slow movements.

‘’al, please…’’ you whispered, so cockdrunked that you can’t even think straight. ‘’the condom. take it off.’’

‘’you sure?’’ alex asked. the condom was something rare when you had sex, but still alex always wanted to make sure you wanted to go with or without it, always respecting your wishes.

‘’y-yes, please, i want you to come inside me, please…’’ you said in a plea, you’re so desperate to feel him filling you up that you didn't care about the consequences.

alex kissed your cheek, pulling out quickly just to remove the condom of his cock, penetrating you again with such ease, hissing at the feeling of your wet and warm walls wrapping around him, making it difficult to hold on for longer.

‘’faster…’’ you said eagerly, opening your eyes again to look at him, rolling your hips around a little more when you felt him buried deep inside of you, lost in a deep devotion that he even forgot how to breathe with those thirsty eyes staring at him and his slender body, begging for greater friction as you dictated the movements that made him lose consciousness.

turner smirked, gathering a handful of your hair in his right hand, pulling with enough force to make you bend your head back, forcing you to now support the rest of your body with your arms stretched out and your hands resting on the mattress, your head fell back enough so that your sweaty forehead touched the tip of his chin.

you couldn’t stop panting and moaning like crazy when you began to feel his movements gain more speed and more pressure, making you feel his cock so hard and with such perfection that you could even say that you were feeling the veins of his cock pulsing inside of you. the sound of your sweaty bodies colliding could not be overshadowed by the music that was still playing on the speaker, nor by your loud moans, as you were no longer ashamed to show him how much you were loving every second of it.

‘’that’s it, love. scream for everyone to hear how good i'm fucking you right now.’’ alex hissed as he moved his head to the side so he could place his cheek against yours, his fist closed tighter against your hair and his other hand snuggled firmly into the skin on your waist, his movements were increasingly intense and you felt like you’re literally going to explode.

‘’holy fuck, ‘m so close, please…’’ you bit your lip as your eyeballs turned white, trying to hold on as much as you could, but it was impossible when turner was massacring you with his movements, making your legs literally wobbly to the point that you couldn't support your body on the bed, but you would never ask him to stop what he was doing.

‘’mhmm, cum for me, baby. cum on my cock while i fuck you just the way you like.’’ he ordered, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, feeling you clenching hard around him. he knew this was a low blow from you, but he loved the way you squeezed his cock and made him dizzy.

you joined the clenching movements with a few more rolls, now it was he who felt like he was going to explode, continuing with the movements to his limit, closing his eyes and letting a broken moan escape every now and then that was not heard due to the sound of his hips clashing against your ass that echoed throughout the room.

‘’i’m fucking close, p-please…’’ you cried, feeling a knot on your stomach.

‘’me too, darling. cum with me, c’mon.’’ he muttered, already feeling the spasms through his body.

the climax arrived for both of you at the same time, followed by racing hearts, muscles tensing more and involuntary tremors. you felt your nerve endings like little electrical circuits, dissipating shocks throughout your body as you felt him pulsing inside you, coating your walls with his hot seed.

alex had to try very hard to keep you both in the same position, wanting to prolong as much as possible the feeling of bodies vibrating in ecstasy, your insides seemed to be much more cozy with the small contractions you were still doing. he let out one last long moan followed by a deep breath before opening his eyes and coming back to reality.

‘’wow. that was fucking awesome.’’ you were the first to speak up, hearing him laugh into your neck, pulling his soft cock out of you, taking a look at his cum running down your thighs, dripping onto the bed sheets before you could lie on your side so you could regulate your breathing.

‘’i swear, you're going to kill me one day, y/n.’’ he replied, seeing you laugh amidst your flushed face and smudged lipstick. and you were still as beautiful as at the beginning of the night in that red dress and under impeccable makeup.

‘’come here.’’ you called him with you finger, seeing him drag his body a little to lie down next to you, letting his hand go around you waist as he pulled you closer, looking at you with a silly and passionate smile, fitting his face into the crook of your sweaty neck, loving the texture of your shivered skin against his face. ‘’do you like the gift? maybe i won't be able to walk properly tomorrow, but... it was from the bottom of my heart.’’

‘’i loved it, babe. it could not ‘ave been better.’’ he responded with a laugh, removing his face from your neck to look at you again, not holding back from wanting to kiss every inch of your tired and satisfied face, which had a lazy smile after such an intense sex. he held your face, squeezing your cheeks a little so that you could make a pout with your lips and he could kiss you there countless times. ‘’still owe you a gift though.’’

‘’no need to, honey. i’m totally satisfied.’’

‘’bullshit. you can't expect that the only thing i have to offer you is my cock.’’ you giggled, your face was still flushed and his thumb ghosted over your parted lips. you didn't demand anything from alex, but still, he insisted on giving you the whole world if he could.

‘’do you know what would be very good now?’’ you asked, your voice a little choked up as you were still feeling the pressure on your cheeks and his kisses on your lips. he chuckled, letting go of your face for a few seconds so you could speak normally.

“a round two?” he asked mischievously, seeing you laugh a little lazily.

“i was going to suggest a slice of cheesecake.” you replied, laughing even more when he pouted, dramatizing an expression of sadness. “but a second round is not out of my plans for tonight. and neither did a third.”

“oh, you're a thunderstorm.” he laughed, kissing you again amidst a caress and the thought that he loved you more than he could measure. “a slice of cheesecake now and as many rounds as you want later, what do you think?”

you smiled widely at him, knowing that was an offer you would never refuse as you kissed him again at the sound of yet another slow song echoing through the bedroom.

#alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #alex turner #alex turner fluff #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #doctor says

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padfootagain · 5 months ago

Text

Love in Verses (X)

Chapter 10 : [I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea

Hi! Here is another chapter! Today: lots of misogyny, the academic world being what it is, and some time spent at the beach with our best boy Elwood!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4344

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Oysters

Our shells clacked on the plates. My tongue was a filling estuary, My palate hung with starlight: As I tasted the salty Pleiades Orion dipped his foot into the water.

Alive and violated, They lay on their bed of ice: Bivalves: the split bulb And philandering sigh of ocean Millions of them ripped and shucked and scattered.

We had driven to that coast Through flowers and limestone And there we were, toasting friendship, Laying down a perfect memory In the cool of thatch and crockery.

Over the Alps, packed deep in hay and snow, The Romans hauled their oysters south of Rome: I saw damp panniers disgorge The frond-lipped, brine-stung Glut of privilege

And was angry that my trust could not repose In the clear light, like poetry or freedom Leaning in from sea. I ate the day Deliberately, that its tang Might quicken me all into verb, pure verb.

Seamus Heaney, Field Work, 1979

Lunchtime with Andrew and Colm had turned into lunchtime with half the department somehow…

You were tired, you wanted to go home. A few weeks into teaching, you were already starting to feel the familiar tug of exhaustion. You had a thousand things to prepare for your research, books to read, articles to go through… And Andrew and you were still trying to fight against Sam and Frank’s marriage the best you could.

After the flower fiasco, out of which Andrew had managed to gain a moment of glory and a longing gaze from Sam, the two of you were working on a way to make you shine in Frank’s eyes. The perfect gift to offer the couple as they were moving in together seemed a good occasion. You had spent most of your evening the previous day browsing the internet with Andrew. He had come over to your place, had left well after midnight, didn’t want to disturb you by sleeping in the second bedroom. And you had fun, that was the strangest part of your evening. You had fun looking for gifts with Andrew, it had turned into finding the most ridiculous items available for purchase, and you had laughed until your eyes watered at his silly jokes. It was a sad thing to realise this had been the more you had laughed since Frank had left you…

You had stopped listening to the on-going conversation about a writer you didn’t know, your mind wandering away from your lunch to settle back on the previous evening. You were beginning to pick on some of his habits, noticing details about him. He hummed a lot, he tilted his head when thinking, ran his fingers through his hair when he was focused, he rubbed at his neck, his chin, his cheek when he was nervous or uncomfortable, pushed up his sleeves often too. Last night, when the conversation drifted away from your exes and onto the last museum you had visited, his head was tilted, his gaze stern and unwavering while he listened intently to you. It felt strange, to be near someone who listened to you so fully. Frank didn’t…

Your heart and chest grew warm at the memory of Andrew getting ready to leave. After midnight, he made a joke about the Gremlins when you offered him one last drink or bite to eat before he would leave, feeling guilty for your conversation and planning to have robbed the two of you of a decent dinner, your stomachs filled only with biscuits and coffee. He was putting on his coat when he joked about making a mess of your apartment if you fed him now, you both laughed at the silliness of it. You waited for him to wrap a warm scarf around his throat, to cover his ears with a beanie.

“Good night, Andrew.”

Simple words, and yet they made him look at you. You noticed the way his head bent a little, as if leaning towards you. His eyes were so green at such an ungodly hour, tiredness making the brown of his eyes recede. He offered you a shy smile, fidgeting with the sleeves of his warm grey coat.

“Andy.”

You stared at him in silence, surprised by his answer. His smile widened when he went on.

“Andy’s just fine, Y/N.”

You could only smile up at him then, you noticed the way his cheeks were flushed when you repeated his name.

He was so cute…

“That’s a little too much though, this whole thing about a feminist rewriting of history. To give classes about that… what a joke…”

Patterson’s words tore you away from your happy memory, pushed you right back in the present, in the reality you faced daily. University was not as progressive as it longed to be seen as, you were a painful witness of that…

You remembered the list of names Andrew had spontaneously given you during your first week. You reckoned his selection was spot on. Patterson was no exception. Mahoney was nodding enthusiastically, and you chose to ignore them. You were too tired, too emotionally exhausted to go through that kind of misogynistic conversation. You forced yourself not to listen to Andrew’s and Colm’s answers as they entered the debate, defending your side.

But then Andrew looked at you, spoke your name, and you were forced into reality again.

“Asking for help because you’ve run out of arguments?” Mahoney asked Andrew, and it was supposed to sound like mockery but it was too bitter for that.

“Y/N is literally an expert in what we’re discussing and a woman, don’t you think you should listen to her rather than your stupid biased views on such a matter?”

“I know plenty about the matter.”

“What a misogynistic answer… thank you for proving my point about your absolute ignorance.”

“And you’re an expert?”

“I’m not. That’s why I ask someone who’s dedicating her life to the voices of women and who is a woman when discussing something about women.”

Andrew’s breathing was heavy, his eyes stone cold and sharp. You had only seen him angry once before, that night you had learnt about your exes’ engagement. It made his voice deeper than usual, a low rumble that was scarier than the loud booming voice Frank used during arguments. His impressive stature wasn’t helping. And yet, when Andrew turned to you, his eyes were soft again, his voice back to its usual warmth, and he didn’t seem intimidating anymore.

“Do you want to add something?”

You didn’t, but the conversation was happening, and fleeing would only result in more violent views being expressed next time. So, you sharply looked over at your two mocking colleagues, and got to work.

You countered every argument, you offered numbers and examples even though you knew it would make no difference. After a while, you were getting angry more than annoyed. Colm and Andrew were backing you up every now and then, but the rest of your colleagues seemed uninterested by the debate at best, at worst they were enjoying the argument.

You let out a wry chuckle at Patterson, who was now not even trying to find arguments, but straight up rejecting your facts.

“How scientific of you to dismiss proven facts simply because they don’t fit your narrative…” you fought back with sarcasm, and he glowered at you. “And you call yourself an academic?”

“Hey! I’m not attacking your professionalism…”

“Are you not? As Andrew said, I’m the expert in this field. I am studying this issue and the impact of misogyny and patriarchy. And yet, you dismiss all my arguments without any proof whatsoever, without offering another explanation. You are only rejecting facts that do not fit your view of the world, or to be more precise, the world that brings you in a position of power over others. You enjoy the system that favours you instead of favouring everyone.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous, claiming to have arguments when all you have are thoughts and no facts or proof whatsoever. I do have those. You’re a misogynistic man who clings to his tiny bit of power and feels emasculated if anyone dares to contradict him. You’re pathetic.”

You shot up, standing in a hurry and grabbing your stuff before heading back to your office. You didn’t pay attention to the discontented grumble that followed you, nor the scratch of another chair being pushed away from the table. You didn’t notice Andrew was following you until you were outside the room, heading for the stairs to go back to your office. You turned to him with a surprised expression painted all over your features.

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment.

“You’re okay?” he asked with warmth in his voice and gaze.

“Yeah… I’m okay. I’m used to it.”

You didn’t like lying, but it was only half a lie. You were used to it, it happened more often than you had expected when you had chosen this career. You thought that the world of knowledge was a progressive one, a world filled with open minds. What a fool you had been… how naïve…

Now, you were growing numb to it, to some extent. The animosity was never far away. The attempts at slowing down, blocking, or even ending your career were a threat too. And you wished you could say you didn’t care at all by now, but you did. You did, and it drove you mad how frustrated you felt in front of such injustice, over the weight that was put onto your shoulders, over the exhaustion that came with constantly having to prove yourself, over the doubts that slithered there through your system even if you tried not to listen. It was the hardest part of your job, by far.

And then there were a few good ones like Andrew who gave you faith in humanity all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, rubbing at his neck.

“It’s not your fault. On the contrary… thank you, for taking my side.”

“Of course.”

“And thank you for asking me. For including me in the conversation. For recognising the need to put me at the centre of the argument, instead of a male voice.”

You let out a chuckle as you opened the door of your shared office.

“I bet your mam taught you well.”

He grinned, fondness evident in his eyes as he talked about his parents. You had noticed how love was always in his gaze when he spoke of his family.

“Yeah… trying to put in practice what she taught me.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll never have to thank me for something like this.”

You tried to ignore how much that fight had shaken you, but you could barely focus all afternoon, and Andrew seemed to notice. It was still early when he turned off his computer and grabbed his coat, then planted his tall frame in front of your desk.

“Come on, let’s go to the beach.”

You stared at him with a blank stare, blinking.

“The beach?”

“Lunch got me worked up… I can’t focus on anything. I need to clear my head, and to me, there’s no better place for that than the sea. So… come on! Let’s go to the beach!”

“I have work to do.”

“You’ll work tomorrow.”

“Andrew…”

“Andy,” he corrected you with a warm smile, and you couldn’t refrain your own grin.

“Andy,” you repeated. “I’ve got things to do!”

“Yes! And they include breathing the fresh air of the sea, listening to the waves and having fun!”

“And freezing to death? It’s November… in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten… I go swimming almost every morning.”

You stared at him with unfaltering eyes.

“You’re insane.”

“I need to go home first, but we can meet up by the coast? I know a nice spot.”

“Okay.”

“Do you like dogs?”

You raised a surprised eyebrow at his question, it was coming out of nowhere.

“Erm… yes… of course…”

“Good. I mean… I have to get my dog. He will never forgive me if I go to the beach without him.”

“You have a dog?! How cute! What kind of dog is he?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I don’t know… some kind of mix between a border collie and… something else. I have no clue.”

Your expression softened as you smiled. He looked away, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink under the darkness of his beard.

“Alright, I’ll text you the address of the nearest village, and I’ll guide you the rest of the way.”

“You’re not about to murder me and get rid of my body in some deserted creek, are you?”

He laughed at your joke, bright and loud, and you were quite proud of that, of being responsible for such a sound.

“No guarantees…”

“I should decline then…”

“Hey! You need to live a more adventurous kind of life! Take risks!”

“You could be planning on feeding me to your dog.”

“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t had his ration of human flesh this week.”

“See? That’s what I’m saying!”

You both laughed, Andrew shook his head fondly at you.

“Elwood is a good boy, don’t worry. I won’t be long.”

You were shutting off your computer as well when Andrew exited the room.

You had hurried to the tiny village, spotted a shop and were now motionless in the middle of the aisle, staring at rubber bones and colourful balls.

Andrew should have reached the village fifteen minutes ago, but you were starting to get used to his chronical lateness. He seemed to never be on time for anything. “Time blindness”, he called it. Whatever it was, there was no need to worry. He would show up eventually, apologise profusely, with a mix of guilt and embarrassment on his face, and then you would tell him it was alright because you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed at him, and he would look at you again and smile…

You smiled as you reached for a squishy ball, with little flowers painted on it. Yellow and white. Daisies.

You bought the toy, went back to your car to wait for Andrew. He arrived almost thirty minutes late, hurried out of his car and secured his dog on a leash before walking over to you. The guilt and embarrassment you were expecting were painted all over his features, indeed.

“I’m sorry… it took me longer than I thought to pick this one up,” he explained with a nod towards his dog.

“That’s okay. And God, you’re adorable,” you said to the dog, crouching down to let the dog approach you. “What’s his name?”

“Elwood.”

The dog seemed to immediately like you, he let you pet his head, wiggling his tail in delight.

“Oh, yes… you’re a good boy!” you cooed. “Here, I’ve bought you something!”

You stood straighter again, offered the ball to Andrew.

He stared at you with bewilderment.

“You… you bought him a toy?”

“Yes! I love dogs! I hope I can have one, someday…”

“You… you shouldn’t have…”

“It makes me happy.”

Andrew couldn’t find any argument against that.

“Thank you.”

You headed towards the beach together. Elwood was obedient yet excited, clearly recognising where you were heading. It was sunny despite the cold weather, you readjusted your scarf a couple of times, put on your gloves after a while. And it was easy to find a topic of conversation with Andrew. First work, your classes, your research as you reached the beach. Then politics as you walked across the sand, sending the ball away for Elwood to catch and bring back. Then movies and art as you watched the waves roll towards you. And then your broken hearts when you were sitting in the sand, side by side, watching over Elwood who was running around by the edge of the water.

The sand was soft under your fingers, your gaze set on the horizon, an infinity of blues and greens, of white waves and the moving shapes of seagulls.

“Are you coming to the dinner next week?” Andrew asked, his deep voice breaking the quiet of the cold sea.

You heaved a sigh, closed your eyes for a second. Frank and Sam had invited both you and Andrew to have dinner in some expansive restaurant in Dublin. A way to ‘get a brand-new start’, Frank had called it. You thought it was rather a new way to get your heart broken, but you didn’t have a choice. If you wanted Frank back, you couldn’t miss any opportunity to see him.

“Of course, I’m coming.”

You opened your eyes to look at Andrew as he slowly nodded.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” he confessed. “I was worried to go on my own.”

“Don’t worry. We’re a team for this! We said we would help each other out, and we will. We’ll get the people we love back.”

Andrew smiled, a gesture grateful, but tainted with sorrow. He set his green eyes on the horizon, you watched as the loose curls that had escaped his man-bun were floating in the wind. But then you followed his gaze, stared at the wildness of the sea, its everchanging shape, and you wondered if anything was meant to last in this world, if anything at all could be called permanent…

“What’s going to happen, then? If we fail, if we can’t get them back, if they really don’t love us anymore… what will happen then?”

Andrew was silent for a moment, staring at you now. You could feel his gaze set upon your face, but you couldn’t look at him. It was easier to search for where the sky met the sea.

“Then… we’ll go through hell.”

You let out a long exhale. His voice was quiet, barely there over the wind. Deep, calm, aching.

“We’ll suffer. A lot. And eventually, we’ll get over it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I don’t think that I could love anyone else the way I love Frank.”

“We don’t have to love them the same way we love Frank and Sam. On the contrary, I think every love we feel is unique. It’s shaped by the person we feel so intensely for. I’ll never love anyone the way I love Sam. But maybe I’ll be able to have a love that’s just as important. It will simply be… different.”

“Missing him feels like grieving.”

“Hmm… Missing her feels like grieving too. It’s the same kind of… void. The emptiness that’s left behind. The silence, the habit of opening your mouth to speak to them, but remembering they’re gone, that there’s no one left to listen to you now, and closing your mouth again… a mouth that’s rendered useless now, as there is nobody left to listen to you anyway.”

Slowly, you nodded, feeling your throat tightening at the pain in Andrew’s voice, at the way his thoughts echoed your own.

“I forget that he’s gone all the time,” you nodded, sniffling, although you weren’t crying. “I just… forget… and then I remember, and it hurts all over again.”

“Yeah… me too.”

The wind was so cold, it felt like knives entering the skin of your cheekbones. You readjusted your beanie so it would perfectly cover your ears. Every time either of you spoke, a tiny cloud was born from your lips, and died in the wind.

Andrew’s dog was unaware of your sadness, unaware of the hole that was gnawing a little bit more every day at your heart. He was happy running around the beach, chasing after birds, playing with the waves.

You smiled, soft and sad and filled with the want to forget again.

“I really like your dog a lot,” you chuckled.

Andrew looked at his pet as well, a tender smile on his lips.

“I’m glad,” was his only answer.

“He’s a good boy.”

He hummed softly, rubbing at his cold hands.

“I don’t think Sam likes him very much.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think she likes dogs in general all that much. She was always nice to him, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think she loved him. When I do. I love him. He’s family.”

“Of course, he is,” you answered with an unmistakable fondness in your voice, one that made Andrew look at you again.

You could feel him shifting next to you, guessed that he hesitated to ask a question. You encouraged him to ask whatever he wanted. You were in a confessing mood, after all.

“What’s your dream?”

You looked up at him with a questioning look, surprised at his question coming out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a dream? Or… did you have one? When you were younger?”

You blinked up at him, feeling silly as you thought of an answer.

Of course you had dreams. You had tons of them.

“I’ve learnt a long time ago that dreams don’t come true.”

He frowned at your answer, his gaze saddened at your words.

“If you could make one true, what dream would it be?”

You blinked tears away, set your gaze on the sea again.

Blue. Blue and splashes of white. A thousand hues of those colours, as far as the eye could see. Such a beauty… And the sound of the waves reaching the shore, curling into white foam, regular like a pattern, soft like a melody.

“I really wanted to be loved for who I am. I just… I would really like for someone to love me. To care about what I think, to care about what I have to say, to hold me when I feel sad. I just… I would really like to feel safe, just once. To have someone… who would treat me as their equal, someone for whom I wouldn’t have to overthink each answer, someone with whom I wouldn’t have to fight to have a chance to be listened to. Sometimes I… It’s so hard to be a woman sometimes. It feels like I’m always fighting. Fighting for my rights, fighting for a chance to be who I want, fighting to be listened to, fighting to be taken seriously, fighting to get my life together, fighting to meet people’s expectation, fighting… for everything. I just… I want to have someone who would make me feel safe enough so I could stop fighting around them. It’s a lot to ask.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

You were surprised by his words, but when you looked at him, his stare was stern and unwavering.

“Did you feel like that with Frank? Did you feel safe enough to be yourself?”

You bit on your lip, hesitated on whether to lie or tell the truth. You didn’t feel like lying though…

“Not all the time.”

You let out a sad chuckle.

“But it’s just a dream, Andy. Dreams don’t come true. I can’t offer to stop fighting. If I do, I’ll just end up giving up… And I’ve done so much already to get my career, to be who I am today… I can’t rest, not when there’s no one to offer me a place to do so. And there will never be anyone to offer it to me. People are too flawed for that.”

You were surprised when Andrew reached for your hand, but you let him touch your skin, wrap his fingers around yours. His hand was so much larger than yours…

“I really wish you could have someone who would make you feel this way. I wish… I wish you didn’t have to fight in the first place.”

You looked up at him, blinking tears away.

“You’re so strong,” he whispered, and there was something close to awe in his expression, although you couldn’t believe that someone could have such feeling aimed at you. “I hope you know that, at least. That you’re unbelievably strong.”

You smiled, and so did Andrew. A genuine smile, that wasn’t so sad anymore.

“What about you? What was your dream?”

Andrew let go of your hand, rested his forearms on his knees as he looked at Elwood, checking that his dog was alright, but he was still busy running after seagulls.

“I wanted to be a musician, once.”

“A musician?”

“Yeah… I used to sing a lot. Played guitar too. I still do, with old friends.”

“What made you decide to be an academic then?”

A pause, filled with Elwood’s happy barks, the distant cries of seabirds, the regular whisper of the sea.

“There were sacrifices to be made. I didn’t want to make them. I thought I could, for a while. I had a few opportunities. But they were all… They were not me. There were talks for an album at one point, an opportunity for me to sing and be paid for it. But they wouldn’t have been my songs. They were pop hits in the making. They were aimed to please others. And I… I didn’t want to do that. I had things to say, and I wanted to tell them my way. It didn’t work out. And then my father…”

He blinked tears away, and you said nothing. He cleared his throat.

“My father had surgery when he was younger. He had some trouble again a few years ago. He’s fine now, and it wasn’t anything serious, but… I don’t know, I think… I thought about the cost that having a life on the road would have. If I wanted to make music the way I wanted to, it would cost me even more than a pop hit would. And I was in love with Sam, and my family needed me, and I thought… I thought it wasn’t worth it. At one point, I had to choose between studying or music. I changed majors from music to literature, finally had the opportunity to study things I was interested in. I didn’t drop out. Instead, I stayed in Dublin, I gave up on the hope of having a career as a musician.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “More so since Sam has left.”

You playfully nudged him.

“Hey! We wouldn’t have met had you become a rockstar! So, it’s not all that bad! I’m glad you chose a life where we could become friends.”

He looked at you, hazel turning fully green in the pale light of winter, cheeks pinkish in the cold. His nose was a little red, his gaze tender as it rested upon yours.

“I’m glad we could become friends too, Y/N. I’m really glad about that.”

You exchanged a smile, rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped your arm around his. You both remained silent for a long time, staring at the sea, the beach, the birds, Elwood still having the time of his life. And you were content to say nothing, to simply be there next to Andrew.

Your cheek felt warm while it rested against him.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier fem!reader #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series #hozier au #professor au #hozier professor au

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whitexwolfxx310 · 8 months ago

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|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 1 year ago

Text

to leave the blood stay in the veins

monster!könig x f!rcursed!reader (no use of 'y/n') 6.6k words NSFW!

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT‼️CW: extremely NSFW, descriptions of gore, implied consumption of human flesh by a non-human monster, mention of necrotic curse, monsterfucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, knotting (no omegaverse), outdoor sex, ambiguous ending, pre-established relationship, 0% proofread, könig and reader are both fucking unhinged.

Day 01 of the Haunted Hoedown Challenge by @/inklore

taboo au (monsterfucking) + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into." + oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

There is a beast in the woods, and it leaves so little meat on the bone that not even carrion birds find value in the corpses it leaves behind.

It’s a strange town in the foothills of the Austrian Alps, full of little sicknesses hiding in the corners, and you learned them well when you moved here. No one goes past the treeline at night. Hardly anyone is outside of home if they can help it. Tourists are the beast’s fodder.

Your boyfriend thinks it’s funny.

König, under his ever-present hood–a not altogether uncommon sight in your town, people come here when they have something to hide, something they are uncomfortable with or find hideous in themselves, and he has given an unimaginable amount for you out of love–laughs, sharp in the tooth.

“Anyone dumb enough to head into the trees is dumb enough to die,” he teases, but there is an arrogance and a contempt swimming deep in his bloodshot blue eyes.

“That’s coldblooded, but not wrong,” you tell him, from behind your own mask. Plain thing, blank in expression, modeled from the one from Eyes Without A Face. It covers the ravages of a curse, numb necrosis slowly spreading up your face through the years. “I still want you to get me a gun.”

“What’s a gun going to do against a thing like that?” he asks, tilting his head, the hood bagging off the curled horns that start at his temples and sweep back over his ears. “Something like that, you need silver. I’ll get you a knife. Big one. Nice and fucking sharp, Schatzi.”

The knife isn’t a comfort when the beast begins to hunt in town. It stalks from house to house, preying on people in their beds, their living rooms, their bathtubs–there is no rhyme or reason, not a whit of discernable pattern.

Only teeth-gouged bones and viscera ground into wall, tile, and carpet alike. Your neighbor falls victim, and you watch the police from your window, flinching when a veteran officer stumbles out into the fall-frosted grass to vomit, sobbing and pulling his hair.

“It got Emil,” you say, still watching through your sheer curtains.

König nearly cackles from your bed, lounging as he visits. “Good. Emil was a piece of shit. Depperte Fut.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, over your shoulder, before returning back to the circus in the yard next door. “‘Stupid cunt’ is a pretty strong insult. He was an asshole, but I don’t think he deserved to die like that,” you mumble.

“You don’t know all that much about your neighbors, Schatzi.”

You begin to rock side-to-side on your hips, the enormous silver blade König gifted you turning over and over in your hands, the point digging lightly into your palm.

It’s insane, the way you begin to tell yourself that you’ve seen König’s face nearly everyday for the last two years—you can see it right now. He lies on your bed, pointed teeth gleaming under his split philtrum in the soft yellow light of the bedside lamp and the red-blue flash of the cruisers. You know there is a man under the hood, however odd and satyr-seeming.

And yet. And yet.

The blade digs a little too deep, drawing a curse-blackened bead of blood. König’s eyes burn into the back of your neck, and you can only guess his horizontal pupils dilate into black holes.

Just quit your job. I’ll take care of you.

It’s a simple enough promise, and one you know König will keep, but not one you’re willing to make. You have few shreds of independence, hard-bought through years of fighting back against misfortunes and setbacks, and, no matter the depths with which you love him, you’re not willing to trade your shit wage on faith for love of a man. It doesn’t matter how helplessly besotted he is.

It’s this molar-cracking grit that delivers you right to the beast. Because you were forced to pick up an extra half shift at the hotel to fold towels behind the front desk, because you needed the money, because you wanted to pay back your beautiful, bloodthirsty boyfriend for the ridiculous blade he begat you.

The god forsaken thing lumbers down a deserted street, blocks from your little rental, and something fucking horrendous seizes you. It’s enormous, walking on cloven hooves and back-bent legs. Its arms are too fucking long, clawed, jagged. And worst is the skull, bleached white and glowing like a beacon in the dark, an enormous rack of brutally sharp horns dripping trinkets of bone and gold that glints in the street lamp it approaches.

A horrible fact hits you. It’s not lumbering, it’s wandering. Putting a massive, craggy hand on fences and peering into houses, taking its time, evaluating. You swear you can almost hear it humming.

You don’t know when your hand found the handle of the silver blade strapped to your belt under your coat, but the leather on the grip bites your palm with the force of your grip, a nauseous, cold sweat terror tearing apart your ability to think.

It’s a primal fear, one that makes you want to protect your soft, vulnerable neck, even if the blood that warms it runs venomous.

It’s a bad choice, but there are no good ones. When the beast lifts its head and scents the air, skull snapping your direction and shaking its grisly trophies, you run. You snap the huge blade off your hip and drop into a dead sprint, cutting between yards, trying to escape the horrendous bellow that reverberates through the bony chambers of the monster’s skull.

Choosing to run instead of freezing maybe bought you a few extra minutes before death decided it was time to seize your pulse in reclamation, and it hurts. The physical exertion it takes to bomb through the last stretches of suburbia before the forest closes in feels like you are breaking every bit of your body by forced choice, listening to that awful fucking thing chase after you.

Your blade makes a slicing sound cutting through the air at your side, the monster’s hooves pound the dirt as it digs in and chases after you, but, good god, it doesn’t sound like it’s even trying.

You don’t dare look back, pushing your body past agony, your lungs shredding in your chest. You’ve never moved this fast, you’ve never run this hard for this long. Your body is TV static—hissing, popping, distant—and, insanely, the urge to cry drills into your eye sockets.

You’re going to die. You’re going to die. You’re going to fucking die, stupidly and dumbly and pointlessly, because you wanted to pay your boyfriend a stupid sum of fucking money, for a stupid fucking knife that he bought you on a stupid fucking joke.

Two meters from the second worst decision of your life, the monster snaps out, rough hand between your shoulder blades, crashing you into the goddamned dirt. Your eyebrow splits on a tree root, your eyes roll in the back of your head, your hand stays manically tight on the blade, slicing your other arm.

“Schaaaatzi,” the miserable fucking thing hisses, pressing that same hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you into the freezing dirt.

Oh, god, no, it has König’s voice. It’s—it’s not him, but it has his voice, thin and washed out as low-hung fog, but you would know that voice. In hell, in high water, in the dirt with a massive, bark-rough hand grinding your skin raw through your coat—you - know - his - voice.

Furiously, you slash the blade over your head, behind your back, screaming and digging your feet in the dirt. For a brief second, as you hack at the wood of the monster’s hand and wrist, you’re even able to push yourself off the ground by mere inches. The beast growls and shoves you back down twice as hard, knocking the wind out of you, spasming your hand open. The knife drops, and you begin to blindly try digging and dragging yourself away.

“Stop…hurting…me,” the beast lows, still in your boyfriend’s voice, and you imagine a bathtub full of gnawed bones, a living room with scattered body parts, your kitchen smeared with blood like cave wall art, and you start to scream as loud as your lungs will allow, your mask filling with dirt in your horrendous and futile bid to escape. Bloody murder bellows, filled with rage, wanting to kill and consume and conflagrate.

If König is dead, you will take your pound of flesh. You will either die fighting, or win, and you will hack apart this freak-fuck’s corpse to burn in your woodstove to warm your home. You’ll mount its fucking skull on your front door, so anything else in these woods will know you won’t hesitate to make trophies of them either.

Bone, warm to the touch, presses against the back of your head. When it breathes, the air is as hot as exhaust, almost scalding your back. “Schatzi,” it bids you slowly once again.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” it rips your throat raw to shriek it, reaching back and almost dislocating your arms to rip at anything you can. Your hands fall on the dressings attached to its horns, you tear off a vertebra, and a gold wedding band, and a bracelet of rave kandi in plastic beads. “IF YOU HURT HIM, I’LL YOU FUCKING KILL YOU!”

The head presses harder, driving your face into the dirt. There is something desperate in the pressure. It spits all at once, grating and wide in a voice you know better than your own, “You pissed off a fucking witch, because you ran out of riddles to tell her, when she was ransoming you to your arshloch grandmother. She never paid. That’s why you were cursed—no one gave a fuck. But I gave her my face for you, to stop it halfway, better than fucking nothing.”

Your rage freezes immediately, your chest heaving under the weight it presses down on you.

No one knows that. Only König. He’s the only person who would know about his lonely and quiet climb up to the Scottish highlands. Besides you, and the witch, König is the only one who would know why his human face was distorted, malformed, made animalistic.

“Lee?” you pant, unleashing part of his first name, the only one he ever tolerates. And, fuck, instantly the pressure pulls away, the skull rubbing against your back to soothe it.

“It’s me, Schatzi,” the slow voice promises, nuzzling you. There’s rustling above you that you don’t dare turn to see. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

A tinkling piece of jewelry lowers in front of your eyes, and you can see that it dangles from an enormous, ligneous finger. You’re being shown a sterling silver charm bracelet. You’re being shown your bracelet, the one you thought you had lost months ago.

Your hand shoots out, wrapping around the finger, the peeling bark shearing off under your grip. You find instantly that you can pull yourself up on your hip, sitting, caged and protected under the beast’s massive body—under König’s massive body.

He shifts back onto his digitagrade haunches, holding himself over you, still offering your bracelet. He shudders at your touch on his hand, and you imagine that he may’ve never been handled with kindness in this shape. Which makes a certain amount of sense. Because he fucking kills and eats people.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap, staring dead into the hollow sockets of his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, turning his head. “Why—you have me so fucked up—what have you been thinking—?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, do you have to—”

“Yes, I have to, fucker.” It’s impossible to wrap your head around the magnitude of what a simple secret and a silver bracelet has done to your understanding of the world. A complete unraveling—upheaval, utterly.

You take the bracelet from his finger, on which it fits like a ring, and push it into your wrist, sitting up on your knees and grabbing him by the underside of his jaw. Though it puts you in his blind spot, staring dead center at the sinus dimples between his eyes, it feels like you have a mote of power over him.

(If he were asked, he would say the power you hold over him could corrupt, absolutely. He would badly like you to ask someday.)

“Why are you—what are you? Have you always been like this? Or was this new, with the fucking witch? Are—Jesus Christ—why are—the monster isn’t supposed to come into town, why are you in TOWN?” you run off at the mouth, words stalling and crashing and fusing together as your thoughts overwhelm just how quickly you can speak.

And up from that impossibly deep throat–simultaneously from the center of your brain, and from all around you all at once–crawls König’s pitchy hyena-laugh, edged, always, with cruelty. He butts the jagged end of his nasal cavities into your stomach, catching on the threads of your sweater.

“Leshy, Schatzi, say it for me.”

Your hands pull his jaw closer, digging the bone into your stomach, wondering if he can feel the pressure of your deep breathing. Oh, fuck, you could crack. This is your König. You start to wonder how many of his perverse buttons you can hit, the part of you that felt shame for your attraction to what the world discarded as ‘ugly’ long ago removed from your emotional bank.

“Leshy,” you say, really leaning into the word, saying it deep in your chest. One of your hands travels the long length to the hinge of his jaw, gripping tight, directing his head to turn so you can meet one of his empty eyes. “Answer my fucking questions.”

The laugh doesn’t come this time. In its place is a near-violent whole-body shudder that wracks through you.

“Old! Alwaaays been this way,” and even in the strange disconnect of his voice from his physical form, you can tell his arousal is eating away at him in big bites–clipping his speech, broiling his brain with body heat, “can’t remember ever being young, haa-haa. And why do you think I’m hunting in town?”

Another trap, a stupid pop quiz, wanting to test your knowledge of him, or a gotcha! to check your observations and what you had missed.

Your hands get tighter, and you pull his jaw open, marveling at the sharp grooves ground into his teeth, like nightmarish, ivory rook pieces, tall and straight in the dry sockets. His chest begins to heave, his breath fogging into steaming clouds over your hands, and, remarkably, it smells like nothing at all apart from pin needles and snow.

You’d thought you’d smell decaying flesh or rotten blood. The only blood you can smell comes from your own busted brow and sliced arm, crusting black on your skin and in the fabric of your sweater as it coagulates.

“If I was working on a hunter’s instincts, I would say that Schladming has become too good at keeping people out of the forests. Even during daylight hours. It cuts down on prey,” you say, ice cold and clean as a slit throat. Your eyes flick back up to the socket, surrounded by the feeling that those glass-blue eyes of his humanoid form are drilling into you. He’s waiting for you to hit the hook. “But I’m working on your logic.”

“Oh, yeeaah,” he drawls, his hips shifting, and you feel as if he would bite his lips in anticipation now, if he could.

“Oh, yeeaah,” you echo him, “the logic of a fucking crazy asshole.” He feels like a huge grin, hands on his muscular, bunched, and flexing thighs. That detail is not lost on you. “You’re hunting in town because you’re pissed off. You reached a limit, and you got tired of sitting on your fucking reaction.”

You swear to god he moans a little. Just softly. It could be a breath, but you know him too well to dismiss it out of hand.

“That’s good, Schatzi. I like that. I like that you figured that out,” he says, definitely panting in rhythm now, his fogging breath giving away the rhythm secondary. “People are looking at you too much. I don’t fucking like it when they look at you too much.”

That’s a sudden thought that had not occurred to you, and you lash yourself silently because it hadn’t. König has always been possessive of you. Jealous. Protective. And he held grudges in ways that could spark blood feuds and successive generations of death.

Like a curse.

It’s a testament to how fucking cracked and perfectly matched the two of you are that you start laughing, stroking his orbital bones in big, pleased pats, kissing the bridge of his nose.

“Schatzi, please,” he groans, pressing into you insistently. “Promise you won’t tell. Promise me.”

“Why the fuck would I tell?” you laugh, losing track of your faculties, your very sense. What does it matter? What does it all even mean? You’ve found a man that loves you so deeply and truly and twistedly that he slaughters those who desire or deign you. You’ve found, and fallen in love with a man that would sell his face to save as much of yours as he could. “Who the fuck would I tell?”

The slope of his shoulders relaxes, and he moves closer to you, once again shielding you with the massive bulk of his body, warming you in the cold air. Tucked under his chin, you can study the soft suede-like material of his body, how the bark covering his arms gives way to a ruff of dense, double-layered fur around his shoulders and his long, muscular neck.

The rest of the muscle on him is horrendously hard, flexed like steel cabling under a layer of fat. There is something about this body that reminds you of the shape of the human one so well–long legs, a nipped waist, and flat hips built to strut and rock, all of it buttressing a broad set of shoulders.

You press your face into the ruff, pushing your fingers into it. Dear god, your hand goes deeper and deeper, and it just never seems to stop. His scent is–it’s almost familiar. He’s in there, somewhere–his musk, the metallic tang of blood seemingly sunken into his skin–but there’s so much more to it. Green, and earthy, almost like soil and moss.

A sound comes from his body, like a house settling. A deep, broad creak. The trophies on his horns rattle together, clinking like dull wind chimes. “More,” he says simply, leaving you to figure it out. Simple enough.

Your hand drops from the ruff, tracing over his convex chest, down to his stomach. Another shudder, and he pulls those big arms around your entire body, a fuller, more protective hug than you’ve ever felt.

“Schatzi–would you let me…” he breathes, a heaving sigh.

Another laugh cracks out of you, hysterical, constricted by your mask. Why not? Why shouldn’t you? You’ve always been a woman that loves monsters. You, yourself, are one. You can’t find a reason to halt your hands, nor your body, nor his desire.

In an odd show of tip-to-tail, you push the mask off your face, and kick off your boots, going for your zipper. “Yeah. Yeah, honey, come on. Show me,” you urge him, pawing at his massive waist as you struggle out of your jeans.

He groans and this obscene trill escapes his body–a low, rattling moan that travels miles through every cell of your body, his legs spreading wider. You laugh in delight and mania, watching rapt as his cock slides out of a sheath you hadn’t even caught sight of, his monstrous body a foreign land you hadn’t traveled yet, but, fuck, do you want to learn the lands well enough to call them home.

It’s heavy in your hands, a little slick, and, childishly, you almost giggle (holy shit, that is a sound that has never left your mouth in your living memory, and yet, here you are). It’s hot, hotter than you expected, and a vulnerable shade of pale, like a plant slip. Oh, and it’s elegant, almost spiraling. He huffs as you stroke the length of it, pushing your fingertips into his sheath at the base.

“I don’t think this is gonna fit,” you warn him, and it somehow feels as if you’re challenging yourself with the statement.

He takes it as a challenge for himself, though, and an aspiration to hold for you, “You are going to take all of it. I’m going to make sure.”

His massive hand comes to the back of your waist, finding your fulcrum without needing to search, pulling you off your knees to hold to beneath him. “You naked yet, or still fucking around?” he asks, breathing heavily, and you shove your jeans off the rest of the way.

“You’re being a little bitch,” you snipe, a dumb swipe at reclaiming dignity after you realize you’re so wet that it slicks your thighs, having darkened the crotch of your freshly abandoned jeans pathetically.

He throws another coarse laugh, haa-haa, shifting his massive body long, pulling you into place.

It’s on you, then, to figure out the logistics. Somehow, it just works, even through layers of physical translation. Under your hands, he reads König, loud and clear.

There’s a brief, flighty moment of terror as you rub the head of his cock between the lips of your cunt, rolling your hips to stimulate your clit against it. It is just fucking enormous, almost half again the size of his human cock. But then you grit your teeth, tipping your weight back so your shoulders rest against the dirt, bleak and unyielding ruthlessness seizing your mind.

You do not back down, you have never done it once in your life, and tonight is no different.

His head lifts, bottom jaw dropping, and he bays as you push yourself down on his length. The sound crashes into you, rocking your entire body, and the stretch burns, but you buckle down. What are the people in the houses just at the edge of suburbia thinking? Has the fucking abberation that has been slowly killing its way through their number taken to a different form of punishment? Has someone unlucky fallen to its new tastes?

It cuts your mouth into a horrid grin. If they only knew that you were no victim at all, if only they had an inkling of the fact that you are a victor. That you are the hand holding this nightmare’s collar, and he attacks for the sake of you.

Inch by inch, a slow journey, he fills you, pressing completely against your walls, body shaking with the effort it takes not to thrust fully into you. Oh, what destruction that would result in, what a wreckage that would make of your body, what lengths he would go to not ruin you in such a fashion.

“Fuck–fuck–Liebes,” he mutters, just for you, the moment he is as deep in you as he can go, most of his length still outside of what your body can handle, pleading, “I can’t–I. I have to move. Please, meine Liebes.”

“Go. Go-go-go,” you answer back, almost frantic, too full and occupied, needing motion or you might split apart into atoms. The way he answers is instant, undeniable, desperate, rocking into you as if testing waters, going faster as if he finds them warm and welcoming.

You lose yourselves to it, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your head, gripping onto the elbow of the arm suspending you, blood rushing to your head in an ache from the way you hang off him, forcing you lightheaded. Sap-like blood from where you’d hacked at him in rage drips down your arm, your waist, clinging to your skin in a way that feels permanent.

He tenses all around you, panting, clouds of steam fogging the air over your head from his pants. Words escape him, leaving nothing but animalistic grunts, the grinding of his dry, exposed teeth as your desperate pussy sucks him deeper and tighter.

You’d taught him as a human to find your g-spot, to destroy your brain with a steady climb, and he doesn’t even need to search now, every movement pressing every inch of his cock into it, and unrelenting onslaught that makes you shake and nearly drool, being fucked like a sacrifice.

König raps his other fist above your head and pulls out without warning, shaking his head and breathing roughly.

You imagine brutally grabbing him by the scruff and biting his ear–what kind of punishment would that even be, no worse than a bug bite to him, more likely than anything else–for the loss of his cock. Mostly just an impulsive fantasy, too barbaric and stupid to actually act upon, but you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, and it feels like hell to be split open against him with nothing inside you.

Breathless–and naked, sweating, and trembling in the woods–you start to sit up on your elbows, cunt throbbing. "What is it? Are you okay?" you ask, your love for him–your fear for him–overwhelming even your damnation-worthy starvation.

König, massive and so dark he's almost indistinguishable from the night apart from his skull, shakes his head again and puts up a clawed hand. Fine, the gesture says, and you’re realizing he’s beyond words now, but trying his best to communicate. Then he curls it into a loose fist and pantomimes masturbating and finishing.

"Christ!" But you’re laughing, tugging at a tuft of fur on his chest, spun out in your giddiness. It’s still him, you’ve already known, but to see it. To find him through this–this utterly new reality. "They teach you that signal in the forces?"

In his hollow sockets, twisting his body to watch you closely, he looks pleased with himself, ducking forward, bracing on his free hand to one side of your head as he nuzzles into your neck and breathes deeply.

He huffs, rough fingers running over your back, claws trailing the parts of your spine he can reach as he holds you, before he taps the side of your thigh with his other hand. At your eye level, he turns his finger in a slow loop. Roll over, maybe? It's worth a shot.

"Okay. Alright," you sigh, relieved. When you try to roll in his palm, he shakes his head and sets you down, pressing down against your body, pushing his arm under your ribs. With his other hand, he gestures a flat line on the ground. You ask, "On my stomach?"

Two knocks against the ground next to your head. Yes.

You stretch out flat over the frost-crisp grass, too hot to even register the chill against your bare skin, and König lowers with you, sliding the arm under you down to your diaphragm. With his knuckles, he taps your outer-thighs until they're drawn back together, and your breathing hitches when you understand what he intends.

With his legs on the outside of yours, he uses his free hand to run his cock up the length of your seam to tease your pussy, but he takes his sweet time with it. Impatient, you slide onto your knees with near-perfect timing, driving your entrance against his head, snarling with indignation when he bows away. "Fucker!"

He rumbles something almost humanoid, between a laugh and a gruff, trilling ‘rrrr’ you recognize as cousin to a sharp, challenging hum he makes when faced with an idiot comment in his human shape.

"Stop teasing me. I can't stand it," you try instead, turning to give him big eyes over your shoulder because you know that it works well on him.

He bends down and barely-barely nips the top of your ear, a startling move that leaves you perfectly inflamed all over again again. Greedy brat, it says to you, so pleased in the fact he is so desperately wanted.

The feeling of him inside you is extraordinary. He lubricates in this state, but you hardly need it with the nearly absurd way you’re wet, slick down your thighs. You wonder if your cunt is glimmering under the dim moon and streetlamps, because he'd said that to you once. Heilige sheiße, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, could just stare at how wet you get for me forever, he'd laughed during one delirious, marathon session of staying sunken between your legs.

He begins to rock his hips, growling quietly and pleased at the wet sounds of your of cunt squelching around him–another sound he enjoys, a marker of pride, how wet can I make my girl get–settling onto his forearm and pressing a little weight against your back.

He rests his head across your shoulders, burying his snout in your hair, breathing in hard-bought bursts of restraint.

"Yes, honey," you almost seethe, loosening your body, giving up a little of your own iron will to become just a little lost in the feeling of him. You relax your walls in a bid to take more of him, breathing tight, voice pitching up into a plea, "Yes, baby, that's perfect. That's so perfect, keep going. Just like that."

He rocks a little faster, thrusts a little deeper, breathes a little harder. The hand around your waist shifts up to your breast, but isn't dexterous enough to do more than give it an encompassing squeeze.

With your thighs pressed together, you feel as if your body can't stretch properly to take as much of him as you want (and you want all of him, every burning hot inch, fucking him so well that he cannot disappear into one of his miseries where he will not let you follow, because they all live in his head).

He ratchets back his speed, tries a new motion with his hips. He rolls instead of thrusting, a more fluid movement, brushing your insides in new ways that leave your swollen clit screaming for attention and your eyes watering. You breathe in ragged pants, fingers digging into the turf over your head, trying not to rip it with the force of your grip by the fistful.

You might cum. You might cum. You want to cum, and you might, and he's so much deeper now, panting hot as fire against your shoulders. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen clench and dance, his horns cutting the air in swipes of agitation above you, and he is so much this way. König: bigger, sometimes bloodier, but always so, so amplified.

"Honey, honey, honey," you whine in a chant under your breath, trying to ground yourself, trying to encourage him. You squeeze your thighs together for the extra stimulation, but you know you’re going to orgasm from him alone, no extra assistance needed. You’re just greedy, you just want it all, but you want him the worst.

When he pulls out this time, you snarl loud and gnash your teeth, digging your dirt-packed nails into his unyielding skin. You were full to the brim and on the wire-edge of climax, and he is so suddenly fucking gone it's almost as abrupt as violence.

"KÖNIG!" you shout, his callsign cutting from between your teeth like the desire to slit a throat, shattering the quiet around you both, reeling to find him with your burning eyes.

He collapses onto his side, cock jumping and leaking, and he whines deep in his throat, pulling at you with the flat of his hand. Your thigh, then his hip, your chest, then his–more hand signals, a story-told like a man with a sucking chest wound needing saving. He snakes his arm under you again, whining growing deeper, and you understand.

You roll, throwing your thigh over his hip, tucking tight against his chest. You give yourself one second of feeling cool air against your overheated pussy before you take him in hand and direct him home, and his deep, slick slide into you knocks the air out of your lungs like a punch to the solar plexus.

You’re only seconds away, and he can't be much farther, driving his head under yours to give you something to rest on that isn't the ground.

You don't utilize his offering, craning your neck as if you'll somehow get a glimpse of your connection from this angle–flat against him from belly to breast, resting your cheek and forehead against his heaving chest. His whine turns into a series of small, strangled howls and gasps as your voice crawls from whimpering to keening.

You’ve known you were going to cum, but you’re still somehow surprised with yourself at how quickly it's raced up, and how overwhelming it feels like it's going to be. You feel like you’re going insane.

His other arm wraps your ribs, too, squeezing you to him like you’re the only thing in the world worth keeping close, and damn him for it. You don't know why, but damn him.

"Cum, baby, cum," you instruct, gasping when you aren't clenching your teeth. You curl close to him, as close as your body will allow, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You drive back down into his thrusts, giving as much of yourself as you can, taking as much of him as you’re able.

You want it all–everything–every little bit of blood and bone that's built him into a home he offers only to you. "Cum in me. I'm ready, I want you to cum," you demand, finding it truer than true, finding yourself right on the razor-edge.

The command is all it takes. Three hard thrusts, and he's buried in you to the base, punching the wind out of your lungs, and filling you to the point of what feels like impossibility with his spend. It forces you to finish as well, lighting you up like a lightning storm, swallowing him deeper as you cum and cum like you'll never be able to stop, soaking the both of you.

You gasp a raw-throated howl, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and you praise him as his cock kicks and kicks, emptying everything he's got to give into you.

A pressure builds inside you, beginning nearly unpleasant, until something just gives and his knot anchoring him to you feels right.

It feels special and dazzlingly intimate, and you’re boggled, again, with the knowledge you’re the only person in the world that he's ever shown himself to this way. It’s just a thing you know in your marrow, an immutable truth, like the sun setting in the west, or the cruelty of witches without their wants.

You wind down, sweating and panting and filthy in each other's arms, and you rock against him, holding him inside, clenching around him what little you can. You feel so wonderfully safe, so immaculately powerful, so stupidly, crazily, fantastically in love.

When your combined breathing evens, and the knot between you retreats, you groan when König shifts back into his human form, but only for the resituating you both have to endure.

The body against yours is familiar again, and you’re dreadfully sleepy, though you want to clean yourself and eat. You crave something raw, something bloody. You hunger the way an animal hungers after a hard fuck. His spend drips out of you now that his cock's returned to normal, and it forms a trail of cooling wet down the crease where your thigh meets your ass.

You feel lovely.

König laughs, rough and spent, tucking hair out of your face and kissing your closed eyelids. "Holy fucking shit, Schatzi," he marvels, looking at you like you are the only god that has ever mattered.

Your smile cuts sharp, and your fingers find his pulse point, tracing it thoughtfully. “You hungry? I bet you're fucking starved,” is all you say in return, eyes trailing the way his hand finds the charm bracelet newly returned to your wrist, touching it like a token.

It’s late and dark when you both manage to stumble your way back to your rental. He stays close, needy and soft, his hand on your hip, tugging you into his body when he can, careful of not knocking into the big, silver knife you’d placed back in the scabbard on your belt.

The hood is back on his head, rolled up to his nose, and his split mouth kisses against your neck and behind your ear, his eyes closed like he endures a waking dream. You, in your own filthied mask again, allow it, craning your neck to give him more room, anchoring him with an arm around his waist in return.

It is late now, and the neighborhood is silent. Again, you wonder what the quiet lives inside must be thinking–whether they think the crimes have increased into a new field of brutality, if they are fearing and wondering what body parts they will find at the treeline come dawn.

You know they will not leave the safety of their homes to investigate. They would be stupid to do something like that.

“That shower is going to feel so goddamned good,” you mutter, unlocking your door, and he nods against your skin.

“Oh, yeeaah,” he says, and the familiarity of the phrase makes you hum a laugh, shutting your eyes as you push through the threshold. "Get that blood off your skin before it stains. Your poor face, your poor arm. Poor Schatzi."

He splits off from you with a facsimile of a kiss–your masks pressing together at the mouth–and he pinches your ass before he takes off to the kitchen, his stomach growling, not even bothering to take off his boots.

You, however, kick off your shoes, and pull together clean clothes, heading toward the bathroom in the hall, the one with the big shower, in case he decides to join you.

Sleepy and content, you listen to his boots move heavily over the kitchen tile, the sound of the fridge door hissing snickt as he pulls it open, and shoves things around in his search for food. You nearly sway up to the closed door–why is it closed, you barely manage to wonder–your eyelids lead-weighted.

It takes only one thing to make them snap open wide, your back going ramrod straight. A dark smear, curling around the knob, around the edge of the door where it seams to the jamb.

Cold grips your lungs, sending your heart galloping painfully in the cage of your ribs, wondering if it really is copper you smell, or if it is a trick of your mind. The hall is too dark to tell if the swipe on the white door is red or black–if it is blood, if it is König’s or yours.

There is a presence at your back, and enormous hands on the door on either side of your head, so fast you cannot tell if you were even able to blink before you saw his wide, scarred, and knuckle-broken limbs spreading wide across the wood.

Your hand finds the grip of the knife, looking at the brutal gouges you had hacked into his forearm earlier in the night, and you are thinking faster and harder than you ever have in your life, realizing in a terrible microsecond that you will have to make a decision–that you will have to choose what reality you are willing to live with, or that you are simply mistaken.

Either way, you are moments from learning.

“Something wrong, Schatzi?” your boyfriend’s familiar voice asks, low and raspy, hot against the nape of your neck.

The laugh in his tone is cruel, and you can’t tell whether it belongs to König, or something pretending to be him.

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